Inspirational Articlesby Bonnie Wheat

Bonnie Wheat is an inspirational writer, bivocational pastor's wife, and a Title 1 Reading Teacher.
She and her husband, Dwayne, serve at Berea Baptist Church, in Big Spring, Texas.
You may contact her at:
101 Washington Blvd., Big Spring, TX 79720
Tel. 915-714-4306 • E-mail her at pdwheat@crcom.net

Taking the Plunge
By Bonnie Wheat

Having been a pastor’s wife now for many years, I have observed that whenever a group of Baptist preachers get together, someone always has a baptismal story tell. Many of the stories have a common theme such as the day someone underestimated the amount of water Bubba would displace when he went under, and the choir got drenched with a tidal wave.

An old favorite story is the day that the deacons had to chop the ice off the pond before old Brother Dipper could baptize Sister Sinner or Brother Bickerer. Other common themes in baptizing tales are the day the waders leaked, and the preacher had to preach in wet underwear or the day someone pulled the plug on the baptistry, and the drain swallowed the last of the water with one giant-sized slurp during the invitation.

With enhancement in the retelling of these stories, such accounts almost have become church-house fables rather than testimonies of salvation portrayed through the ordinance of baptism. However, I recently heard a rather unique baptismal story with a refreshing application.

Leading a new believer into the baptistry, a pastor friend positioned the candidate for baptism in the water while placing one hand on the man’s back and lifting the other hand toward heaven. Then speaking loud enough for the candidate and the congregation to hear, the pastor said, “I baptize you, my brother, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”

But before the pastor had time to lay the eager believer back into the baptismal pool, the man thrust himself forward and fell face first into the water. Not knowing what else to do, the confused pastor grabbed his candidate by the scruff of the neck and pulled him out of the water while the congregation echoed, “amen.”

It turned out that the baptismal candidate came from a church background that practiced forward immersion instead of backward immersion, but it was his eagerness to serve the Lord that plunged him into the water. The Scripture tell us to serve the Lord with gladness. (Psalm 100:2 NASB) Whether we practice face-first baptism or nose-under-last baptism doesn’t really matter. What does matter is our obedience to God and our willingness to serve Him.

Wrinkled Hearts
By Bonnie Wheat

All mothers have wrinkled hearts --- surely they do --- hearts once crisp and pristine now limp and worn. The wrinkles started at birth --- the birth of a child that is. Those little bodies red and swollen, ugly as they may be, puff up our hearts and make us proud.

She’s beautiful! He’s precious! Oh, how sweet! These are the words we eagerly believe and our gullible hearts inflate some more.

Then the trouble begins. When that precious little bundle cries all night, or spits out every bite of green peas --- when the diapers stink, and we can’t get any sleep, our puffed up hearts begin to shrink. They shrink and sink and shrink some more until our whole bodies begin to sag.

But just let that little one get sick, and our hearts take on a new shape. A cough --- a fever --- a runny nose --- and our hearts melt with compassion --- soft and pliable --- ready to meet the need.

As that child grows, our hearts grow too. They harden and they soften. They stiffen and they flex all because of some little brown-eyed boy or blue-eyed girl who has learned to manipulate and control us.

When that child gets recognition, again, we’re proud as we can be. Perfect attendance --- honor roll --- soccer team --- spelling bee. The occasion doesn’t matter. Our hearts swell up, and our faces glow. “I’m his mother,” we say. “He belongs to me.”

Oh but wait, that puffed up heart is leaking. Like air going out of a balloon, the pride and joy seeps out, and the sides of our hearts cave in. Johnny got in a fight at school. Susie found the scissors and cut her own hair. Tommy took the car without permission, and now the fender is hanging and one headlight is ajar. Mary missed her curfew and came home two hours late. Now she’s in a snit because she’s grounded, and her parents are the meanest in the whole wide world.

Our caved in hearts have turned wrong side out. They lay crumpled in a heap. ” Where did we go wrong?” we ask. And God answers not a peep.

But life goes on, and our crumpled hearts start to unfold. Slowly they emerge and regain their shape only to be crushed again by the next family upheaval. Upside down, inside out, the crinkling doesn’t stop, until one day that child grows up, and we sigh with relief. “My heart can’t take anymore. I’m glad my job is done.”

And then the telephone rings, or there’s a knock on the door. It’s the familiar voice of that grown-up child. And our momentarily peaceful hearts begin to flit. Twisted, turned, and knotted up, our hearts are still alert. The job isn’t done. That mother’s heart still works.

Of course our hearts are wrinkled. That’s how God intended they be. Every fold is a blessing. Every crease is a wrinkle of love. And if we feel we’ve been unduly wrinkled, remember God’s heart was wrinkled by you and me.

It was almost closing time at Barnes & Noble when I found the little book. I was wandering aimlessly around the children’s book section looking at picture books because they were easier for me to read at the end of the day than the adult books my husband and the other nighttime shoppers seemed to be enjoying. I looked down, and there on the floor was a paperback book that seemed to have been dropped on the floor by another customer.

Intending to put it on a table somewhere so that it wouldn’t be damaged, I picked up the little paperback book and glanced at the title. It was a book about forgiveness. I had just started a personal study on forgiveness. Quickly, I flipped to the index and read the chapter headings. The author, a professor of psychology, seemed to be addressing all the issues about which I had been concerned. I knew, without doubt, that God had placed that little book on the floor for me to find. With renewed energy and unexpected alertness, I took the book to the front of the store and paid for it.

Isn’t it amazing how God drops things into our paths when He has something to teach us? The Scripture says: …for your Father knows what you need, before you ask of Him. (Matthew 6:8 NASB) Could it be that God knows what lessons we need to learn as well as what material things we need? Perhaps the next time we stumble across a book on the floor or something that seems like a coincidence happens to us we should take a closer look. It might be a God thing.

Anticipation
By Bonnie Wheat

Peacock, Texas is a has-been kind of town. Visitors to the small community are greeted by a row of open-faced, roofless storefronts reminiscent of better days. A concrete sidewalk sitting high above the street in front of the empty buildings anchors the town to its past. The post office, once housed inside the deserted grocery store, is only a memory to the few remaining residents who used to go there daily to pick up their mail and swap news with their neighbors.

Near the main road that curves through the little town, a bank of modern-looking mail boxes appears to have been planted just off the blacktop as a more efficient way to deliver the mail. Beside the row of shiny steel mailboxes, a vinyl-seated kitchen chair, placed there by some local resident who still has time to wait for the mail, seems to defy progress.

I do not know who placed the old chair beside the road, but in my minds eye, I see an elderly man or some frail little lady anticipating the arrival of the mail carrier who brings the mail each day. Perhaps it’s the anticipation of chatting with neighbors as they come to pick up their mail, rather than the hope of getting a card or letter, that keeps the chair’s occupant walking over to wait for the mail to arrive each morning.

Even when life is changing and uncertain, the prophet Jeremiah tells us that we have something to anticipate: 'For I know the plans that I have for you,' declares the LORD, 'plans for welfare and not for calamity to give you a future and a hope. 'Then you will call upon Me and come and pray to Me, and I will listen to you. ’You will seek Me and find Me when you search for Me with all your heart. (Jeremiah 29:11-13 NASB) When we find ourselves struggling with change, we can rest assured that God has a plan for us and that we can still look forward to the future.

Getting to Town
By Bonnie Wheat

I love good advice. I don’t mean the unsolicited advice that we all get from time to time from our family and friends or the ought to admonitions that are so easy to give out and so difficult to receive. The advice that really gets my attention often shows up on marquees and church bulletins. These subtle little tidbits that speak volumes of truth make me smile. Sometimes I laugh aloud at these punchy words of wisdom so cleverly disguised as humorous quips.

A few days ago, Dwayne and I got an e-mail letter from a friend we hadn’t heard from in a while. As a newly retired school teacher, Ron described the joys of having six Saturdays in every week. He went on to tell about the adventures of his new career as a knife salesman in a rural community. It seems that the main drawback to Ron’s job is dogs that bark at his pickup as he chugs along from house to house. He concluded his letter with this bit of advice: If you stop to throw rocks at every dog that barks, you will never get to town.

I have taken Ron’s advice to heart, and I have already shared it with several people. If I am truthful with myself, some days all I do is throw rocks. I never get any closer to town than I was at the beginning of the day because I lose my focus and spend all my time on distractions.

Although I don’t recall any advice about barking dogs in the Bible, Jesus had this to say about keeping focused: But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you. (Matthew 6:33 KJV) If you and I are going to make any progress along our spiritual road to town, we will have to stay focused on the things of God and stop throwing rocks at other things along the way.

The countdown has started! The holiday season is here! The oranges, yellows, and browns of fall are already being replaced by the reds and greens of Christmas. Each year it seems that Thanksgiving and Christmas become more entwined. Thanksgiving turkeys are served on Christmas platters. Fruitcakes hit the market before all the pumpkin pies have been eaten, and photo opportunities with Santa Claus pop up in the malls before the Pilgrims and Indians are out of the picture. In the swirl of activity that accompanies the blended holidays, it is sometimes difficult to focus on the meaning of either holiday.

This year, however; one thought---thankfulness for God's plan---seems to tie the seasons together in my mind: For I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord. They are plans for good and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope. In those days when you pray, I will listen. You will find me when you seek me, if you look for me in earnest (Jeremiah 29:11-13 The Living Bible)

As I make my list of things to be thankful for this year, the first thing on my list is the peace and joy that come from knowing that God has a purpose and a plan for my life. As my thoughts move toward Christmas and I search the familiar Christmas story for new meaning this year, I am thankful for God's plan to send the baby Jesus into the world to give us all a future and a hope.

Thanksgiving? Christmas? Perhaps it doesn't really matter which platter the turkey is served on or what color the tablecloth is as long as we remember to thank God for the future and the hope He has given us.

Graduation---the beginning or the end? It has always seemed a bit strange to me that the culmination of academic pursuits is marked by a commencement ceremony rather than a completion ceremony. While diplomas and degrees honor the accomplishments of the graduate, announcements, class rings, tassels, and the other trappings of graduation herald the passage of a stage of life. Gifts and celebrations further signify the summation of an era. Only the tradition of wearing caps and gowns seems to point toward the future.

One legend holds that a wise teacher in ancient Greece was asked to present his class of graduating noblemen at a banquet in their honor. Having agreed to have the students dressed for the occasion, the teacher robed his scholars in sackcloth and gave each of them a mortar board to hold. As the old instructor presented his class to the outraged audience of royalty and nobility, he explained that the students were dressed in the clothing of masons for their destiny was to build on the solid foundation of knowledge.

The apostle Paul tells us that we all are builders and that we too have a solid foundation upon which to build: God, in his kindness, has taught me how to be an expert builder. I have laid the foundation and Apollos has built on it. But he who builds on the foundation must be very careful. And no one can ever lay any other real foundation than that one we already have--Jesus Christ. But there are various kinds of materials that can be used to build on that foundation. Some use gold and silver and jewels; and some build with sticks and hay or even straw! There is going to come a time of testing at Christ's Judgment Day to see what kind of material each builder has used. Everyone's work will be put through the fire so that all can see whether or not it keeps its value, and what was really accomplished. Then every workman who has built on the foundation with the right materials, and whose work still stands, will get his pay. (1 Corinthians 3:10-14 TLB)

Regardless of our stage in life, we are responsible for what we build on the foundation we have been given. We all need to don our sackcloth robes and start spreading mortar. The time of commencement is now.

Except for a few age spots, Sally still looks the same as she did the year I stitched her up and placed her under the Christmas tree beside her sister. Her red yarn hair is still bright and stringy. Her stenciled face still smiles. Her red-and-white-striped socks and black cotton shoes still dangle beneath her long bloomers and white pinafore.

Although Sally has been with us for many years now, I just recently learned the story behind her name. Even though Sally and her famous sister were both cut from the same fabric and stuffed with the same stuffing, Sally was destined to become the rag doll of a younger sibling. In spite of being loved just as much and dragged around more than her twin, Sally never received the recognition that she deserved. Even the authentic red heart tattooed on her chest wasn’t enough to stop an older sister’s decree that there just couldn’t be two dolls named Raggedy Ann. With only a three year old to defend her against the dictates of a six-year-old authoritarian, Sally never got the name she deserved. She was given a second-best name, Sally.

I’m glad that God doesn’t care what names his children are given at birth. The apostle Peter tells us that God loves and accepts all of us in spite of our names. Of a truth I perceive that God is no respecter of persons:35 But in every nation he that feareth him, and worketh righteousness, is accepted with him. (Acts 10:35 KJV)

To God, a Sally is just as important as a Raggedy Ann. He places His mark of identity upon the hearts of all those who are willing to receive Him.

Why? Why did I ever want to be a teacher? Why did I ever think teaching little children to read would be rewarding? I had failed. There was no hope---no hope at all. This group of first graders would never learn to read.

My little bunch of wiggly six year olds had just struggled through a controlled vocabulary version of The Princess and the Pea. When the last squirming reader sounded out the final word of the story, we all sighed. The reading was finished. Now it was time to check for comprehension.

"Why couldn’t the princess sleep on the pile of mattresses?" I asked, hoping to hear that a real princess would be able to feel the pea under all those mattresses.

There was no answer. My round-table audience didn’t seem to understand the question.

"What was under the pile of mattresses?" I probed, pointing to the little green object under the bottom mattress in the picture. "What was under the mattress and kept the princess from sleeping?"

Four little pairs of eyes stared at the picture as if they had never seen it before.

I wonder if God ever wants to give up on us. Are there times when he says, "These children are never going to learn?" The Scripture tells us where to look when we can’t find the answer to life’s questions: If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask of God, who gives to all liberally and without reproach, and it will be given to him. (James 1:5 NKJ) Lord, in those times when we lack understanding and we can’t sleep, let us see the pea under the mattress that you are trying to show us.

Why did she keep that? What is it anyway? I would have thrown that thing away a long time ago. I can just imagine the conversation when I die and someone discovers the little piece of wood that I call my inheritance tucked away with my other keepsakes.

In the house where I grew up, a gin stick was as common as a hammer and more useful than most tools. In the fall of the year when ginning season started, my dad always had a little slat of wood sticking out of the hind pocket on his coveralls. It was his tool---the mark of his trade---and his protection.

I’m not quite sure why I kept the gin stick and dubbed it my inheritance after my dad died. Perhaps it was a mixture of sentiment and a sense of humor. Daddy would have been both pleased and amused to know that someone wanted his gin stick.

Now when I look at my inheritance, I am reminded of the long hours of work that it represents, and I thank God for giving me a work ethic. When I see the ends of the stick which have been chewed up by the blades of a cotton gin, I feel cautious and grateful that in forty-two years as a ginner, my dad never lost a finger to the vicious teeth he kept at bay with the little stick. The gin stick also prods me to be prepared for trouble which inevitably comes to all of us. Daddy never left the house without his gin stick. He knew that sooner or later the cotton would get balled up in one of the gin stands, and he would need his stick. He was always prepared.

Compared to the wealth of some, my inheritance may not seem like much, but I’m grateful for it, and I’m even more thankful for the inheritance that I have from my Heavenly Father: .... Has God not chosen the poor of this world to be rich in faith and heirs of the kingdom which He promised to those who love Him? ( James 2:5 NKJ)

Although our earthly inheritances may not amount to much, as Christians we have inherited a wealth that money can not buy.

We see them listed in the classifieds and hear them advertised on the radio all the time. On most busy streets, we can’t miss the banners heralding parking lots full of reliable used cars. And we often see them stalled beside the road. I readily admit that my mechanical knowledge will not begin to fill the proverbial thimble, but I have figured out a couple of things about cars. They are all reliable until something breaks, wears out, or just quits working, and the difference between a new car and a used car is one trip around the block.

Years ago as a returning college student and mother of a small child, I found myself relying on a faded red Rambler for transportation. My daily one-hundred-mile commute taught me a little about the temperament of old Ramblers and a lot about prayer.

My school supplies in those days included pencils, pens, and a Phillips screwdriver which I always kept in my purse. Since I could always depend on the reverse button falling off my push-button gear shift if I happen to be running a little late, I became quite adept at taking off the metal plate that held the buttons in place, sticking the reverse button on again, and replacing the metal plate with my screwdriver. In just a couple of minutes, I could be off to a backward start for the day.

In spite of my dexterity with a screwdriver, the car developed a problem that required another kind of skill---patience. When it rained, as it often did in western Washington, the electrical system on the old Rambler would get wet and short out. When this happened, my screwdriver didn’t help. The only solution was to sit beside the road until the car got in the mood to run again.

With the exception of a clock that is one hour slow and six minutes fast, the car that I drive these days is more reliable than the faded red Rambler. However, even the cell phone that I keep in my car and the AAA membership that I depend on in emergencies aren’t completely reliable. Sometimes I still get stranded.

Although he knew nothing about automobiles, Moses knew a great deal about reliability: ‘...the Lord your God is the one who goes with you. He will not fail you or forsake you.’ (Deuteronomy 31:6 NASB) Cars, old or new, may leave us stranded beside the road, but God is always reliable.

McDonalds? Sonic? Burger King? Where shall we go for lunch? Whataburger? Wendy’s? Dairy Queen? What are we hungry for today? Subway? Kentucky Fried Chicken? Taco Bell? How much time do we have to eat?

For many of us, eating on the run is a way of life. But where did the race begin? It all started over 200 years ago with an Englishman named John Montagu, the 4th Earl of Sandwich. Though stabbed by hunger pains, Montagu, an avid card player, refused to leave his game table long enough to eat a meal. In desperation, he ordered a servant to bring him a piece of meat between two slices of bread. With cards in one hand and a sandwich in the other, the Earl introduced a concept in food preparation that left cooks and dish washers singing his praises and set the pace for the fast food industry.

Unlike the Earl of Sandwich, whose addiction to card playing kept him from eating, the apostle Paul seems to have been addicted to food---solid food. He even reprimands believers who do not hunger for this spiritual food: And I, brethren, could not speak unto you as unto spiritual, but as unto carnal, even as unto babes in Christ. I have fed you with milk, and not with meat: for hitherto ye were not able to bear it, neither yet now are ye able. ( 1 Corinthians 3:1-2 KJV) How often do we settle for a glass of milk instead of the meat of God’s Word? In our hurry to swallow a few bites of fast spiritual food each day, do we miss the full-meal-deal that God has prepared for us?

A few days ago, I read a missionary’s frustrating account of trying to find a certain person’s house in a little town that didn’t have street signs. Having grown up in the next to the last house on the east side of the dirt road that ran north from the schoolhouse, I didn’t really understand why not having street signs was such a big deal. After all, I was nearly old enough to vote before I realized that streets were supposed to have names. The folks in our little town got along just fine without them. Anyone who had a reason to care already knew that the Boydstuns lived across the street from the Walkers and next door to the Harrisons and the Halls lived just north of the Walkers on the other side of the little green rental house.

It was only after the 911 emergency system was established a few years ago that I realized I had been deprived of a physical address my entire childhood. Now when I visit my mother’s little stucco house at 1239 Madison, Jefferson, or some presidential avenue, I sometimes have to run down to the corner and read the sign to remember where I am. Progress seems to have complicated a simple way of life.

Although we may need numbers on our houses and names on our streets in order to receive 911 help when we want it, we have a Heavenly Father who can find us in any emergency. The Scripture assures us that he already knows all about us: Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? Yet not one of them is forgotten by God. Indeed, the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Don't be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows. (Luke 12: 6-7 NIV) Perhaps God doesn’t need an address. He already knows how to find us.

A prominent business executive in a small town was recently called on the carpet for some undisclosed act of misconduct. To the frustration of many and the relief of a few, details about the firing have been squelched. Rumors, hushed and shushed by the informed and bred and spread by the uninformed, have created the most untalked-about talk of the town in several years and reminded folks that no one is beyond reproach.

Although this scandal is new, the term called on the carpet is not. The expression dates back to a time when only the boss’ office had carpet on the floor. When one was called into the carpeted office, it was often for a reprimand. Thus, being called on the carpet became synomous with being required to give an account for something said or done.

The Scripture reminds us that someday we all will be held accountable regardless of our position in life: For it is written: "As I live, says the Lord, every knee shall bow to Me, and every tongue shall confess to God." So then each of us shall give account of himself to God. (Romans 14:11-12 NKJ) Will we be ready when God calls us on the carpet?

Morning after morning and evening after evening, we go from room to room in our houses flipping lights on and off. It usually takes a power outage to make most of us start scrounging for candles and searching for flashlights. While most of us recognize the name of Thomas Edison as the inventor of the light bulb, few of us can appreciate fully the contribution this scientific genius has made to our daily routines.

After hundreds of trials and more than a year of continuous work, Edison perfected the carbon-thread filament that makes an incandescent light bulb burn. Later Edison said of his accomplishment, "I failed my way to success."

The Scripture also speaks of the value of trials: but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope.. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us. (Romans 5: 3 NIV) When we face trials, could God be perfecting a thread of character that allows us to shine in all circumstances? Perhaps God is teaching us how to fail our way to success.

Although the Grinch didn’t know much about Christmas, the prophet Jeremiah knew exactly where Christmas could be found: "But this is the covenant that I will make with the house of Israel after those days, says the LORD: I will put My law in their minds, and write it on their hearts; and I will be their God, and they shall be My people." (Jer. 31:33 NKJ) The promise of a baby, whose birth we celebrate at Christmas, was the fulfillment of a covenant that God wrote on the hearts of His people. No, the Grinch, hasn’t stolen Christmas, and it doesn’t come from stores. It is something more!

I married a bibliophile. I knew from the start that Dwayne had a reading problem, but I didn’t realize the extent of his addiction until it was too late. The first alarming clue came shortly after our marriage when I discovered that in packing the trailer for our move from Abilene, Texas to Longview, Washington, he had abandoned half my shoe collection and left behind part of our new dishes in order to fit all of his books into the trailer.

A few years ago, I realized just how serious the problem had become when I ordered a book from one of the many book distributor that infiltrate our mail box with advertisements. The two week delivery date passed, and my book still had not arrived. More weeks passed. I started grumbling about my order taking so long, but Dwayne seemed not to notice my complaints. I was about ready to contact the book distributor and demand to know why they had taken my money and not sent my book when our daughter Brenda came home for Christmas.

One evening Brenda and I were visiting in the living room when Dwayne came out of his office with a new book for Brenda to see. He proudly displayed the little volume of word and phrase origins and admitted that he didn’t remember ordering it. He had just found it in the mailbox one day and stamped his name in it.

After making a mild fuss and showing my canceled check as proof of ownership, I claimed the little book and found a place for it on my bookshelf. Dwayne relinquished the book with the excuse that since it was a book and it was in his mailbox, he thought it belonged to him. I forgave him, but he did get a copy of The Ten Commandments in his stocking that Christmas.

Living with an compulsive reader is bad enough, but his contagion has spread to me, and the last time we talked to Brenda, she had just purchased a new bookshelf that would reach all the way to the ceiling in her little apartment. Perhaps we all need a little advice from King Solomon: The words of wise men are like goads, and masters of these collections are like well-driven nails; they are given by one Shepherd. But beyond this, my son, be warned: the writing of many books is endless, and excessive devotion to books is wearying to the body. The conclusion, when all has been heard, is: fear God and keep His commandments ... (Ecclesiastes 12: 11-13a NASV) Many books may make us knowledgeable, but only the Shepherd’s book can make us wise.

One Sunday morning not long ago, many of us grinned as one of our preschoolers rushed down the aisle to give his offering to the Lord. As adults stifled giggles, the little boy waved his dollar bill in the air until an usher noticed him and extended an offering plate to receive his gift.

Our young friend’s enthusiasm for giving reminded me of an encounter that I had a few years ago with another young man and an offering plate. After leading the music for Vacation Bible School, I had sat down on the front pew of our church while the offering was being taken. I had not planned to give an offering until the end of the week. The young usher, however, apparently took his job of collecting an offering seriously. When he came to me, he stopped and waited. He stood quietly beside me until I decided I had better start looking for something to drop into the offering plate. Only after I had dug to the bottom of my purse and found a contribution, did he move to the next row.

My two young friends seem to have already learned some important lessons about giving. In 2 Corinthians 9:7, we are told that God loves a cheerful giver, and Jesus, himself, told us that "It is more blessed to give than to receive." (Acts 20: 35) Perhaps all of us need to bring our material offerings and our gifts of service eagerly to the altar instead of waiting for someone to come and collect them from us.

There is a fine line between junk and antiques. I came to this conclusion a few years ago when younger relative enthusiastically showed me her antique bottle collection. The prize piece of her accumulation was an old glass ketchup bottle just like the ones we threw away when I was a kid. Although I wasn’t impressed with my young friend’s antiques, the old bottle did bring back some memories. Whacking the bottom of the bottle a few times with the heel of one’s hand, scrapping the inside of the bottle with a knife, and swishing a few drops of water around inside the bottle were all prerequisites for declaring the ketchup bottle EMPTY.

However, we always threw the empty ketchup bottle away unless Mother needed a new sprinkle bottle. In the days before perma-press clothes and steam irons, every household needed a sprinkle bottle to make the ironing easier, and a ketchup bottle with some holes poked in the lid served the purpose well. The sprinkle bottle in our house taught me about another fine line---the fine line between optimism and over commitment. It was a lot more fun to sprinkle down the ironing than to actually iron it. However, the rule was whatever ye sprinkle, that ye shall also iron.

The Bible also warns us about another fine line: So, if you think you are standing firm, be careful that you don't fall! (1 Cor 10:12, NIV) Maybe the difference in an antique and a piece of junk is its value to the owner, and the difference in standing and falling is in what we value. It’s a fine line.

Gabriel was our waiter. For many months, Dwayne and I met for dinner at Gabriel’s place of business every Wednesday at 5:00 p.m.. With precision timing, Gabriel always made a fresh pot of decaffeinated coffee in anticipation of Dwayne’s arrival, and knowing that I didn’t drink coffee, he was prepared to refill my soft drink without asking what kind it was. If we were running a little late, Gabriel looked at his watch and commented on our lateness. If we happened to miss our dinner appointment one week, Gabriel would question us about our absence the following week.

One Wednesday, I arrived at the place where Gabriel worked a little before 5 o’clock and parked on the south side of the building. Dwayne arrived about the same time and parked on the east side of the building. Since neither of us saw the other’s vehicle, we waited and waited. Looking out the window, Gabriel could tell that I was getting impatient because Dwayne was late and Dwayne was frustrated because I hadn’t arrived on time. After about ten minutes, Gabriel must have decided that neither of us had the sense to get out of the car and look around the corner. Dutifully, Gabriel abandoned his other customers and came outside to get us.

Just as Gabriel always knew what Dwayne and I needed, the Bible says that God knows our needs as well: For your Father knows the things you have need of before you ask Him. (Matthew 6:8 NKJ) Isn’t it wonderful to have a Father who watches from his window in heaven and provides for our needs before we even ask?

Self-improvement? Where should I start? The exercise enthusiasts promote brisk walking, jogging or aerobic activity at least three times a week to keep the body in shape, but the intellectual gurus advocate reading and serious study to prevent dementia. What a choice! If I’m to come out even at the end of life, as I have always hoped I would, I guess I’d better start exercising both my body and my brain.

While body and brain are vying for time in my busy schedule, I’d rather be doing something I enjoy. My daughter, the music teacher, tells me that the reason my piano playing doesn’t get any better is because I never practice. I really do plan to practice as soon as I get caught up on a few other things. However, the experts at the writer’s conference I attended say that writing for an hour a day is absolutely necessary to increase skill and creativity. And I would like to learn a new song before the next Fifth Sunday Night Singing, but I just can’t find the time.

But wait! Shouldn’t my priority be improving the way I look. I did read some essential beauty tips in a magazine once. Maybe I should spend more time curling my hair, polishing my nails and plucking my eyebrows. I could even schedule more time for pressing my clothes and shining my shoes.

I wonder though, what self-improvement project God would place at the top of my list? The Scripture says, "For the LORD does not see as man sees; for man looks at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart."( 1 Samuel 16:7b NKJ)

Self-improvement? Maybe I should start by finding time to hide God’s Word in my heart.

It’s that magic time of year again---the time when first-graders stop sounding out words one letter at a time and miraculously start reading whole sentences fluently. Teachers stop repeating instructions and start challenging students to read the directions for themselves.

Several years ago, I gave a group of emerging readers a worksheet to complete independently. The instructions included drawing nine spots on a picture of a leopard, coloring the leopard tan, and making a red bow near the end of the leopard’s tail. All of my budding scholars managed to draw nine spots and color the leopard, but there was a bit of disagreement about making a red bow near the end of the leopard’s tail. The more traditional students drew the bow connected to the leopard near the tip of its tail. A few more creative children made the red bow near the tip of the tail but not touching it, and one imaginative youngster drew the bow near the other end of the leopards tail---the end that was attached to the leopard.

The early Christians seem to have had some disagreement concerning whether or not it was all right to eat meat that had been offered to idols. The apostle Paul gave this advice: Therefore let us stop passing judgment on one another. Instead, make up your mind not to put any stumbling block or obstacle in your brother's way. As one who is in the Lord Jesus, I am fully convinced that no food is unclean in itself. But if anyone regards something as unclean, then for him it is unclean. (Romans 14:13-14 NIV)

When I graded the leopard papers, I gave full credit to each child who had made a red bow near the end of the leopard’s tail. I wonder if God sees us as emerging followers and gives us credit according to our understanding of His instructions.

As God’s children, we have been given a gift that is more precious than anything our hearts might desire: For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. (Luke 2:11 KJV) At this busy time of the year when we are wrapping presents and laying them under the tree, let us take time to remember God’s gift---the one wrapped in swaddling clothes and laid in a manger.

When we come before the Lord so distressed that we don’t know if we’re going in or coming out, the Holy Spirit makes intercession for us. When we fall to our knees with stacks of need and piles of concern, the Spirit presents our prayers to the Father on our behalf. Shouldn’t our hearts be ringing with joy because we have such a great Intercessor?

As we leave a century marked by change and approach Y2K, we do have a Manual that will be a reliable guide for the future. May God give us the vision to face the challenges of the unknown. May we be God’s models of the future instead of spiritual Model T’s.

Are there any white elephants in your house? Most of us have a few of those little useless gifts sitting around collecting dust. Maybe there is a big, green, ceramic frog behind your door, or rain glasses with windshield wipers on your dresser, or a mini hacksaw blade on a shelf somewhere. Could there be a cap with a propeller on top hanging in your utility room or a pair of plastic glasses with a big nose and hairy eyebrows attached stuffed in a drawer? How about the pet rock that someone gave you a few years back or the cup with the handle on the inside? Is there a plastic sandwich in your refrigerator or a rubber chicken in the trunk of your car?

As much as we love to give and receive these little gag gifts, the original white elephant gifts were not funny at all. The story is told of an Eastern ruler who gave white elephants to his enemies. Since the white elephant was sacred, it couldn’t be sold, destroyed, given away or put to work. The recipient, who was required to feed the white elephant, was often reduced to poverty.

As Christians, we serve a ruler who gives us good gifts instead of harmful ones---a Lord who knows what we need even before we ask:

"Which of you fathers, if your son asks for a fish, will give him a snake instead?

Shouldn’t we be thankful that God gives us useful things instead of white elephants?

What is a perfect lamb? By today's agricultural standards, a prize-winning lamb exhibits a long body with smooth shoulders and a faultless neck and head. Its back must be long, thick, and level. The fleece must excel in density, brightness and uniformity of length. Its feet and legs must be in exact alignment. In addition, the animal must display gentleness, look healthy, and show signs of being well cared for.

By Old Testament standards great care was given to the preparation of the Passover lamb. The unblemished male lamb was to be eaten within the house where it had been cooked and none of the bones of its body were to be broken in the preparation or serving of the meal. (Exodus 12:10)

Careful consideration was also given to the selection of a lamb for sacrifice. In the Jewish sacrificial system, a lamb without blemish could be sacrificed as a burnt offering, peace offering, sin offering, or guilt offering. The sacrifice of a lamb without defect restored purification, expressed thanksgiving, exhibited repentance, and attained forgiveness.

God also chose a perfect lamb to attain our forgiveness. John the Baptist called Jesus the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world. (John 1:29 NASV) The prophet Isaiah compared Jesus to a lamb that is led to slaughter. (Isaiah 53:7 NASV) John, the disciple whom Jesus loved, noted that like those of the Passover lamb, the bones of Jesus were not broken in the crucifixion, (John 19: 31-36) and the apostle Paul referred to Jesus as our Passover who has been sacrificed. (1 Corinthians 5:7) The apostle Peter reminds us that we were redeemed with precious blood as of a lamb unblemished and spotless, the blood of Christ. (1 Peter 1:19 NASV)

What is a perfect lamb? The New Testament points to only one---Jesus, the Lamb of God.

Disappointment
by Bonnie Wheat

The excitement started early one morning just a few weeks ago when one piece of equipment, a caterpillar with a blade attached, crawled slowly from the flat bed of a truck and started scraping away the topsoil of a cotton field just south of our house. With the dumping of the first scoop of dirt, the announcement was proclaimed to anyone who might have been passing by. A new oil well was to be drilled in the community.

In a matter of hours, trucks loaded with heavy equipment bombarded the site. The clang of metal hitting metal and the roar of engines interrupted the quietness that had settled over the winter-bare field. The shout of men’s voices added to the cacophony of noise. By nighttime, a lighted derrick towered above the assortment of equipment and temporary buildings---a beacon of light attracting attention to the carnival of activity.
Then as quickly as it had started, the activity stopped. The shouting ceased and the clamor of machinery faded. With hard-hats in hand, men climbed into their pickups and drove away. Only a skeleton crew remained to disassemble the rig and stack it on the ground. No announcement was made. No explanation was given. Even the passersby knew what had happened---a dry hole.

In the Scripture, Jesus warns us not to build our hopes on things that can bring disappointment. Do not lay up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven where neither moth nor rust destroys, and where thieves do not break in or steal; for where your treasure is, there will your heart be also. (Matthew 6:19-21 NASV)
As we begin a new year, shouldn’t we resolve to increase our heavenly treasures and focus less on the things that only bring disappointment. When the towers of materialism fold and we reach the dry holes of life, we have a faith that will not leave us disappointed.

Bingo doesn't come out much anymore. For several decades now he has lived in a cardboard box inside some dark closet. His fur, once plush and shiny, is almost gone. His eyes have been replaced by two mismatched buttons, and his nose is threadbare. His stuffing smells musty.

Although age has taken its toll on Bingo, the old Teddy Bear has survived a lot of loving abuse. In addition to all of the wagging and dragging that most Teddy Bears have to endure, Bingo had an almost fatal encounter with a razor. He was still a young bear when his owner, a little boy named Dwayne, decided that Bingo needed a shave.

Feeling confident that he knew exactly what to do, Dwayne found a shaving mug with a brush and an old razor. Then he lathered Bingo up just like his daddy always did the customers who came into his barber shop for a shave. Bingo must have run out of whiskers before Dwayne was through shaving because he came out of his ordeal with a bare chest, as well as, a clean shaven face.

Sometimes imitating parents isn't a good idea, but we have a Father who wants to be imitated. I tell you the truth, the Son can do nothing by himself; he can only do what he sees his Father doing, because whatever the Father does the Son also does. John 5: 19 NIV

Our heavenly Father is in the saving business rather that the shaving business, but He wants us to join Him. If Jesus depended on watching the Father to know what to do, shouldn't we also be imitating the Father?

Making Christmas Personal
by Bonnie Wheat

Our first Christmas as a newly married couple vividly fills a page in my mental book of treasured events. The tree that had looked so small on the Christmas tree lot was much too large for our living room. The addition of twelve dozen half-priced ornaments and several strings of multi-colored lights made the giant-sized tree the focal point of our small house. The new, red stockings hung on our own mantel added a sense of anticipation to our festive spirits.

In our eagerness to celebrate, I made more cookies and candy than two people could possible eat, and Dwayne replaced our white light bulbs with red and green ones. We proudly displayed all of the Christmas cards we received by taping them to door facings and stringing them across walls. Lacking experience and common sense, we purchased large, heavy gifts to be mailed to our families who lived in another state and waited until the deadline to mail the items.

When after weeks of preparation Christmas day finally came, our first turkey roasted in our own kitchen for our first Christmas guests put a seal of identity on our celebration. It was our Christmas because we had claimed it and worked to make it personal.

This Christmas, when we hear those familiar words For unto us a child is born. (Isaiah 9:6 KJV) let us claim the gift of a personal Wonderful Counselor and a personal Mighty God. Let us show gratitude to our Everlasting Father and our Prince of Peace.

I have always been interested in the way towns got their names. Sometimes the stories are quite funny. I once read about a little place somewhere that was deemed No Name by a postal employee because the community didn't have an official name. Another place was called Hot Coffee because the only business in the town sold hot coffee.

There are two places on the Texas map, Needmore and Necessity, that are still mysteries to me. Did one group of settlers, feeling that they didn't have enough of something, call their town Needmore? Did the other group, feeling thankful for having been given all they really needed, name their community Necessity?

If my speculation about how the two towns got their names should be correct, which town reflects the admonition of the Psalmist? Trust in the Lord, and do good; Dwell in the land and cultivate faithfulness. Delight yourself in the Lord; And He will give you the desires of your heart. Psalm 37:3-4 NASV

God doesn't promise to give us unlimited possessions, but when we find joy in doing the things of the Lord, we find that the things we really desire in life are the things that God has already given us. Although the towns are miles apart on the map, I wonder if in God's atlas Needmore and Necessity might be the same place.

I'm having a lot of trouble with my new dishwashing detergent. The instructions on the bottle say to use 1/3 less soap because the gold-colored liquid is concentrated. I guess that means the soap is new and improved. It may just be an admission that the old stuff was watered down.

My problem is not knowing how hard to squeeze the bottle to get 1/3 less than a regular squirt of soap. The advertising on the wrapper says that the bottle cap is also new and improved to control the amount of soap that comes out, but I think the soap just comes out a smaller hole. I haven't detected any retardation in the flow of soap. What I really need is a squirtometer that will measure exactly 33.33.........% less soap that I usually use.

Although I don't know whether or not I'm using 1/3 less soap, I'm pretty sure that I'm using 2/3 more water. The other day, I decided to hand wash a piece of clothing with my new liquid detergent. I must have miscalculated 1/3 less because after a few dips and swishes my hard, West-Texas water lathered up like a Hollywood bubblebath. It seemed like a shame to waste all those suds, but lacking the motivation to do a whole load of laundry in the kitchen sink, I pulled the plug and let the drain slurp down all that warm, soapy water. Then I doused the bubbles away and rinsed my laundry six or seven times in clear water to get the rest of the soap out.

God's expectations are a little more exact that the instructions on my soap bottle. And thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thine heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy might. Deuteronomy 6:5 KJV Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths. Proverbs 3:5-6 KJV

I may never know whether the 28ozs of my new detergent had as much cleaning power as 42ozs of the kind I used to buy. However, when it comes to our relationship with the Lord, he wants us to squeeze out all of the love and trust that we can give. He wants 100%.

Just before the local high-school homecoming a couple of years ago, I overhead a conversation in a restaurant about a school spirit T-shirt that had been misprinted. A mother was telling her friends how she had phoned in an order for her son's shirt that was supposed to say Go Steers. Although there had been some kind of mistake, the boy had decided to wear the shirt anyway.

When our food came, I forgot about the conversation, but as Dwayne and I were finishing our meal, I noticed that the mother and her son were leaving the restaurant. There on the back of his gold T-shirt in bold black letters were the words Ghost Ears. I chucked about the mistake and delighted in the boy's sense of humor.

In the introduction to his Gospel, Luke explains his reason for writing about the life of Jesus. Inasmuch as many have undertaken to compile an account of the things accomplished among us, just as those who from the beginning were eyewitnesses and servants of the word have handed them down to us, it seemed fitting for me as well, having investigated everything carefully from the beginning to write it out for you in consecutive order, most excellent Theophilus; so that you might know the exact truth about the things you have been taught. (Luke 1:1-3 NASV)

I'm glad that the mother who called in the order for her son's school spirit T-shirt didn't fill out a written form. The mistake caused a lot of laughter that was probably needed. However, I'm thankful the recorders of the Scripture took the time to write it right so that we could have an accurate account of God's Word.