As soon as I began serving the Lord at my last church, I started a weekly prayer group. In the beginning, only a few came, but in time it grew to about twenty folk, some from other churches who wanted to be with fellow believers who prayed. One or two would record all our prayer requests and periodically report back on their outcomes. Very exciting and encouraging. God was answering the cries of our hearts. He really was!

However, one day I asked the group to focus only on praising the Lord. Well, things got a tad dicey. I told them not to ask for anything for themselves or anyone else. Seemed like I had stolen their most precious possession! A notable sigh was heard. What were we to pray about? Just sit in silence, contemplating who knows what? No. Focus on thanking God. Praising our Lord. All our prayers are about Him today. And for Him. All of them? Yes, that’s right. Have I lost my mind? No comments, please!

But my instructions remained. Get off yourself, even off others in need, and look up. Only gaze upward. So, how did we do? Follow their pastor’s lead? Are you kidding? After about two feeble praises, we got the show on the road, asking for this and begging for that! Oh well, you can tell what sway I had on that dear church family! Hate to admit it, but I got right behind them asking, seeking, and knocking, putting the bite on the Lord for this, that, and the other almost from the get-go.

Looking at Psalm 147, you can’t miss something that sticks out like a sore thumb. Especially to those of us primarily focused on ourselves. Doesn’t matter what translation you’re using, this psalm begins and ends with ‘Praise the Lord! (which in the Hebrew language is ‘Hallelujah’). In addition, three words are repeated throughout this psalm– ‘He’, ‘His’, and ‘Him’.

Check it out. Add them up. Those three words are painted all over this psalm. Which reminds me of our triune God– Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. One God, three persons. Now don’t ask me to explain the unexplainable. I can’t. No one can, this side of heaven. But then and there, we’ll know. No ifs, ands, or buts about ‘He’, ‘His’, and ‘Him’–‘For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully…’ (1 Cor. 13: 12).

This week, spend some time in Psalm 147. Note those three prevalent pronouns–‘He’, ‘His’, and ‘Him’. Try as best you can to focus on thanking and praising your God. And don’t worry if you stumble along a bit, not doing such a great job. Even well-meaning pastors flub up! After all, the Lord loves to hear from us with all that’s on our hearts. Shy away from legalism and formality and repeating certain religious-sounding patterns over and over again. Or fearing you won’t use the right words.

Be yourself for a change. And let Jesus know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, how much you love Him…and appreciate Him. That’s not too much to ask, is it?

Lord Jesus, I love you and trust you. Thousands of praises and thanks to you from my heart to your ears. Amen.

In many ways, I had a happy childhood. My parents weren’t high on drugs or booze; they loved each other and provided well for my brother, sister, and me. Our neighborhood had lots of kids to play with. And I did. No major arguments or disputes with parents hating or suing each other. None that I knew of.

Most neighbors were Jewish, as was true of my elementary school. I was the token Christian, even though I knew little about what it meant to be such, except that I wasn’t Jewish. Seventy+ years later, I’m still in contact with some of those ‘kids’ from the South Mountain Elementary School neighborhood of Millburn, New Jersey. And I’m still Johnny to those dear friends!

We played all sorts of outdoor games. Whiffle ball. ‘Not It’. Leap frog. Hide and seek. Stickball on the street pavement outside our homes, where we’d yell ‘car, car, c…a…r’ for oncoming traffic. And then that game, which I thoroughly despised. Dreaded playing every time. Tried to get out of it if I could. And rarely did. What was it? Pin down!

You know the game? Have to pin someone down on the ground, on all fours, making them say ‘Uncle’, with whoever stayed immobilized and trapped losing the game. I lost every time. And so-called neighbor kids must have sensed that I was in panic mode, pinned down and restrained, for they wouldn’t let me up, no matter how many times I yelled ‘Uncle’! Bunch of meanies! I take it all back about that idyllic childhood stuff!

In Psalm 143, King David pleads with the Lord to get him out of a tight spot, where he finds himself confined, weak, and just plain powerless. Like how I felt playing ‘pin down’ except on a much grander scale–‘For your name’s sake, O Lord, preserve my life! In your righteousness bring my soul out of trouble!’ (Ps. 143: 11). It’s that Hebrew word ‘trouble’ that reminds me of ‘pin down’. It means hedged in. Unable to get up and walk. Stuck. Helpless. Possibly how I felt as a two-year-old with paralytic polio? You think so? I do.

When we feel up against the wall with some insurmountable troubles, do what King David does–‘Hear my prayer, O Lord; give ear to my pleas for mercy! In your faithfulness answer me, in your righteousness’ (Ps.143: 1). Plead with your God. Lay it all out before Him. At His feet, knowing how good and loving He is.

Like He doesn’t know all about it, anyway? Catches Him offguard? Shocked and speechless? Not quite. Not at all. So, why bother? That’s easy. Because He loves the relationship He has with us. Our Lord cherishes our closeness. That we hang on His every word. Believe Him as if our life depends upon it. And it does. So, like any other relationship, talk it out. Even better, hold nothing back. Know how much God cares.

Then see what your Lord does. Wait on Him, and for once (talking to myself), mean it. Relax, already. When the Lord says to cast our burdens on Him, then, by all means, do it. And stop trying to fish them back. That’s hard for me too. You’re probably much more patient. Or are you?

Isn’t it time to trust Jesus? Why wait a second longer? Any old time will do. How about right now?

Lord Jesus, hold my hand as I lean in closer to you. Thank you. Amen.

When we rented a 15th-century manor house in England for two months, we attended different churches and cathedrals most Sundays. We loved the small and very friendly Baptist Church near our home in Droitwich Spa. But it was at the Cathedral in Worcester where the air was filled with what we hadn’t expected. Incense permeated everything. Like a fragrant London fog settling in. I’m not sure how many censers were being waved around the cathedral nave, issuing smoke with a lovely aroma, for this was high Anglican worship. And we’re lowly Protestants. But not so low that we couldn’t love this awe-inspiring and stirring worship service.

Hardly unbiblical. I mean that business about incense. Those of us who are more comfortable with simple, unadorned worship must be careful not to judge other believers for how they worship the Lord. All the ornate frufru comes with deep meaning. Read about the Old Testament Tabernacle and Temple, where worship is filled with symbolism from the outside in, with sounds and smells that strike some of us as rather unfamiliar.

Reading Psalm 141, I come across this–‘O Lord, I call upon you; hasten to me! Give ear to my voice when I call to you! Let my prayer be counted as incense before you, and the lifting up of my hands as the evening sacrifice!’ (Ps. 141:1-2). Incense and of raising hands, too. We low church folk are much too refined for that! But there it is in the Bible. So, be comfortable worshipping your God. Don’t hold back and let the likes of me inhibit you one bit.

For our prayers are like incense to God–rising up to Him, sweet-smelling and all. Their smoke goes everywhere in the heavens above, occupying God’s full attention. And there’s more about incense and our prayers. From that marvelously mysterious last book in the Bible, Revelation–‘And when he had taken the scroll, the four living creatures and the twenty-four elders fell down before the Lord, each holding a harp, and golden bowls full of incense, which are the prayers of the saints’ (Rev. 5: 8).

Nothing stops the rising smoke of incense. Its pungent aromas permeate the heavens, like our prayers, which come to our God, offered by the hands of His heavenly servants. Our pleas are held dear and doted upon, treasured in golden bowls, symbolizing how precious our heart’s desires are to our Lord.

If so, here’s a thought. Why don’t we pray more? Give back to God what He treasures from His own? To simply please our Lord? Costs us nothing. Only a few moments of our ‘precious time’. Again, why not pray more?

This week, let’s do just that and fill our hearts with the joy of knowing how much Jesus loves to hear from us. And, by all means, spend time with Him, telling Him everything that’s on your heart and mind. He knows, and so loves to hear it all from our lips to His ears. That’s some of what that frufru is all about.

Thank you, Lord Jesus, for loving me. Amen.

We live in a society that expects results. Get ahead, prosper, and thrive. Success at all costs. But when is the price too high, demanding more and more until we reach some breaking point?

We hope beyond hope that money solves all problems. Lurking in the shadows, likewise, we also know that it’s the root of all kinds of evil. How lottery winners, after all the shirttail relatives and self-appointed friends show up looking for a hefty handout, those top dog sweepstake champs wind up thinking more about what they’ve lost than gained, with winning being more of a curse. But I’d be different if I won. Wouldn’t I? You think? Probably not!

How about reasons for following Jesus? Because He’s got lots of goodies for me? A cornucopia of material blessings? Plus, better safe than sorry? Some fire insurance for the final days ahead? A fairweather follower? On good days, but a tad shaky on the others? When I expect life to go my way, and if it doesn’t, then God can hitch a ride on someone else’s highway. You know what I mean? Am I a true-blue, sold-out, regardless of the consequences, disciple of Jesus? How about it? All right, already. I’ll stop asking these endless questions!

Just when you thought things should lighten up, I suggest that we tackle Jeremiah 44. It’s not an easy Bible chapter to fathom. Makes some of us uncomfortable. But such is life. For God’s people have been found unfaithful. Lousy followers. Turncoats. Phonies through and through.

Here’s one example–‘As for the word that you (Jeremiah) have spoken to us in the name of the Lord, we will not listen to you. But we will do everything that we have vowed, make offerings to the queen of heaven (a pagan goddess) and pour out drink offerings to her, as we did, both we and our fathers, our kings and our officials, in the cities of Judah and in the streets of Jerusalem. For then we had plenty of food, and prospered, and saw no disaster. But since we left off making offerings to the queen of heaven and pour out drink offerings to her, we have lacked everything…’ (Jer. 44: 16-18). Read on, there’s more about God’s fickle, two-faced, snake-in-the-grass folk.

What these people own up to is quite a devastating admission–to be His alone, only if the going keeps getting better, and solely on good days. It’s easy to follow the Lord when life is fun and games, everything coming up roses, but what about the other times, which invariably come and knock us over? What then? Should I blame God? Turn my back on Him? Curse the day I was born as if to snub my nose at my Maker?

By the way, how am I doing with all this? My heart wants to stay close to Jesus no matter what, but will I always be loyal and dependable? Here I go again with more questions. But that’s where I’m at. Wondering? Hoping?

But wait a minute. Something seems misplaced, doesn’t it? Maybe I should focus on how faithful the Lord is to His own whose hearts yearn for Jesus alone. About how He’ll never desert us. That He keeps His word, the ultimate promise-keeper. It’s about Jesus more than about me or you. That’s where we should hang our hats.

So, I’m sticking close by the One who never moves away from me. Join me? There’s oodles of room at His feet. Cuddle up a little closer. No matter what hits the fan, we’ll be just fine. Okay? That’s my last question!

Thank you, Jesus, for being my Lord and Savior, regardless of what nasty things come my way. Especially then. Amen.

I love reading 19th-century novels like those by Dickens, Melville, Hugo, Dostoyevsky, and many others. A favorite novella is ‘Silas Marner’ by the English female author George Eliot. I’ve read it numerous times. With more to come, hopefully. It’s a moving story about a man, Master Marner, who becomes transformed from a greedy miser into a loving father of a small child who stumbles into his candle-lit cabin as her mother tragically dies, lying in a nearby snow bank. How does he earn his fortune? By weaving and then burying his earned gold coins under the rustic cabin’s floorboards.

Silas Marner is a weaver. The book’s subtitle is ‘The Weaver of Raveloe’. In those times, weavers often travelled, working from home to home in addition to laboring in their own cottages. My wife weaves. She has a loom. The shuttlecock flies by as she intertwines yarns of varied colors and blends. Some threads contain silk, cashmere, bamboo, and wool. It’s fascinating watching my wife at work. And from this ancient process, the most amazing creations emerge and bless our home.

When I read Psalm 139, I think of Master Marner and my wife, busy at work creating what’s beautiful and needed. Here’s what the psalmist writes–‘For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well’ (Ps. 139: 13-14).

King David, our psalmist today, praises the Master Weaver and Knitter, his God. The One who creates everything out of nothing, merely by uttering a word. He says it, it happens. Plain and simple, though its complexity confounds the sharpest human minds, though sadly it is rarely admitted. I think of our being made of DNA and RNA, their double- and single-helices wound and woven together, which make up the human body. Who can comprehend all of that? Certainly not me. You too?

The Hebrew language in verse 14 reads literally–‘…for I am fearfully wonderful…’ Now don’t get a swelled head. Yes, you may be ‘Mr. Wonderful’, but who created you? A self-made man? All by pulling up your own bootstraps? Think again.

‘Fearfully wonderful’ with awe and respect, love and admiration go deservedly to our Creator God and to Him alone. Or is it a matter of chance and chaos? Natural selection with genetic variation? Evolved that way? Hardly. Au contraire. We’ve been created, each of us, by a Master Craftsman. The One and Only. This is our God.

So remember. And don’t forget! To praise the One who knows what He’s doing. What He’s done and what’s to come. All history is His story. Pause and give the Lord praise for all His fearfully wonderful creation. As in you and me, too!

We praise you, our Lord, for being our Master Creator and Craftsman, who also loves us very much. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

Awhile back, I read about how to have a super marriage. It wasn’t some sex manual, but was written about getting closer to each other. By relating better, a husband and wife grow more in love throughout their married life. That’s for me.

I must admit that I’m not much for how-to or self-help books. What I’ve read seems simplistic. Or too much of a formula, allowing no exceptions. As if we’re all cookie-cutter, made from the very same mold. I rebel against such, probably making me a tad moldy!

The writer’s main point is that those with successful marital relationships have leaned in toward each other. They’ve purposely moved closer to each other, not just physically, but by their attention and care. They champion each other. Side with each other. Partial to each other. They listen to each other. Drop what they’re doing when needed. Look up when called, clearing the mind to focus on their spouse. Bottom line, they’re for each other.

How am I doing? Please don’t ask my wife! Also, not to avoid another unpleasant topic, I wonder how all this leaning-in business applies to my spiritual life? My relationship with the Lord Jesus? Here you’re free to ask Him about me, for I know that He keeps confidences better than anyone. Nevertheless, how goes it?

Any relationship with your Lord must involve several elements. Agreed? You can name some. What comes to my mind is sharing with God whatever weighs on my mind and emotions. That’s prayer. Transparent, frank and honest, even though His name’s not Frank!

So, how are we doing? Here’s a warning– is your prayer life all about you and yours? Or even worse, just you? I remember being in prayer groups where, once in a blue moon, the instruction was given to pray only for others. Not yourself. That lasted about two seconds, if that, sad to say. So, get over yourself, why don’t you?

Something else about a good relationship is listening…to Jesus. As recommended, actually commanded, by God the Father–“He (Peter) was still speaking when, behold, a bright cloud overshadowed them, and a voice from the cloud said, ‘This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased; listen to him'” (Matthew 17: 5). Listen to whom? Right! Go to the head of the class! Again, listen to Jesus. But I wonder where we can hear from Him? Any ideas? Stumped you? No. You know!

Then, how about speaking nicely to God? Some pleasant praise. From the bottom of your heart. Not for brownie points or to butter Him up to wangle something out of the Almighty. Instead, share some genuine thanks and praise. Like how the Father speaks to His Son Jesus–‘…this is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased…'( Matt. 17: 12). Some nice talk. How about sharing some real McCoy appreciation with your Lord?

Leaning in toward God. Favoring Jesus. Placing our future in His hands without reservation (one of my challenges). Looking beyond what our eyes can see to a firmer faith, though at times we’ll experience a teeter and a wobble. Yes, we may sway in the wind, but Jesus keeps us upright as we lean in upon Him.

Let’s do just that this week. Lean in!

Lord Jesus, I want to be yours no matter what. Amen.

Beware the wash. No, I’m not referring to laundry, as in letting it pile up with accompanying foul aromas wafting in the air. Rather, I’m referring to what can happen in the desert. For many years, Sue and I loved vacationing for a couple of winter months in Arizona, in the desert Southwest of our country. Even in colder months, the temperatures can be quite moderate and even toasty at times. Just right. A nice break from the harsh, chilly rain of the often bleak, dark winter months of Washington State.

When we travelled around Arizona’s arid climate, we would see road signs which seemed strange. They warn us to beware of the wash. Do they know what’s in our hamper back home? Thought we were clean people. Who’d a thunk!

Fret not, for they want us to fear unexpected flooding that washes over the roadway, which annually results in tragic fatalities. People get washed away in a sudden deluge. How? Why? Didn’t they know? Hadn’t they heeded the posted warnings? Seemingly not. Sudden rainstorms, far off in the mountains, way out of sight, come cascading down to a low spot, where unsuspecting folk are happily driving along, unaware and unprepared for the sudden and deadly surge of H2O.

Out of the blue comes disaster. So, watch out. Be prepared. Listen to the weather forecasts. By all means, don’t try to challenge the elements. If possible, head to higher ground. Keep out of the drink. Know better, or possibly you’ll not be known at all ever again.

Reading Psalm 124 is like catching sight of a road sign warning us of a dangerous wash ahead. King David of ancient Israel wrote this magnificent poem. The psalmist warns that if we push God out of our lives, there’s danger ahead. Turn our backs on Him, ignore His warnings, tell Him to take a hike, mind His own beeswax, then we’ll be rushing headlong into double trouble.

David forewarns the following–‘…if it had not been the Lord who was on our side when people rose up against us, then they would have swallowed us up alive, when their anger was kindled against us; then the flood would have swept us away, the torrent would have gone over us; then over us would have gone the raging waters’ (Psalm 124: 2-5).

Such sobering words. Give us pause. For without the Lord, we’re facing a torrent far worse than death. So, pay attention to what He says. Make your Bible much more than some Dickens novel that you barely took a gander at in Middle School. Dig deep into God’s Word. Spend quality and quantity time nestled in its truths. Wear it out. Don’t worry if it becomes a bit tattered along the edges and starts to fall apart. Buy a new one, grab a pen, and mark it up with interactions and insights from on high.

And keep looking farther up where safety can be found. Take Jesus’ hand and follow His lead, and you’ll find yourself safe as safe can ever be. He’ll never let you go until you reach the Highest Ground of Heaven

Thank you, Lord Jesus, for always taking care of me. Amen.

The Babe. No, not the movie featuring a pig. Not even the Babe of Bethlehem, whose birth we celebrated last month. As a lifelong New York Yankees baseball fan, I’m referring to the Babe, George Herman ‘Babe’ Ruth. Now don’t moan and groan, for I do have a spiritual point to make, and it’s not on the top of my head as you might think!

The greatness of this less-than-morally sterling sports figure has been analyzed in various ways. It seems that his hand-eye coordination was exceptional, almost unparalleled. His eyes and hands could track that round projectile, aimed his way, so that his bat hits the ball at just the right trajectory, and off it flies out of ballparks from St. Louis to Detroit to Philadelphia…at all of them in those bygone days.

So what could this hand-eye business have to do with the Bible, let alone my faith? Good questions. Could it be that you have not read Psalm 123 today? Maybe you should? Then you’d notice the repetition of words that this psalmist uses– ‘Eyes…hand…eyes…hand…eyes…mercy’. There’s a big, fancy word for this poetic technique. I’ll save you the bother of mentioning it.

This echoing method (okay, you wormed it out of me! — anadiplosis) emphasizes something that should not be overlooked or forgotten. Here it’s the ‘eyes’ and ‘hands’ of servants to masters, maidservants to their mistresses, and therefore us to God. We look up to Him. Eyes focused on our Lord. Our gaze fixed on Jesus.

Looking for His helping hands. Not the back of His hand in anger, but His loving and compassionate ones. Our relationship with God supports us as we come to life’s home plate, facing deadly fastballs, curveballs, screwballs, and spitballs to knock us down or strike us out.

When our love for the Lord registers deep within, filling us with gratitude for all God has done and still does, something happens. It’s better than a homerun. Mercy from our Great God and Lord Jesus Christ, clears the outfield walls–‘…so our eyes look to the Lord our God, till he has mercy upon us. Have mercy upon us, O Lord, have mercy upon us…’ (Ps. 123: 2-3).

God’s tender care, compassion, and understanding get pitched our way as we run around life’s bases. His mercy carries us along, every step of the way, until we cross home plate, nestled safe and secure in heaven’s dugout with our Lord and those countless other teammates managed by our Lord Jesus.

So, as it turns out, this week’s devotional is about the Babe of Bethlehem. It should be, don’t you think? Seems like I’m getting ready for the start of a certain sports season!

Lord Jesus, I love you with all my heart. Thank you for making me your own. Amen.

It bothers me every time I hear it. Rankles me to no end. Puts me in a fighting mood. Put up your dukes or else! So, what’s gotten stuck in my craw? Like a burr under my saddle?

Still have no idea? You probably do since you’ve read today’s title–‘Mother Nature?’ You know, you’ve heard it a lot or even said it: ‘Mother Nature’. Who? Well, someone’s mother, I guess. And we know what’s meant. Most likely, no harm intended. A way to keep peace with those who brook no time for God, the you-know-what. Yes, the Creator.

Sorry to break the news, but Mother Nature is a figment of a collective imagination. No such being. She doesn’t exist except in an attempt to pour oil on troubled waters, meeting halfway with those uncomfortable with that certain Mastermind. I’ve decided to never utter that phrase ‘Mother Nature’, keeping God the Creator uppermost in my mind and heart.

Imagine a vulnerable turtle needing outer protection, so, all on its own, it manufactures that hard shell. Clever being, huh? Or a Venus flytrap developing spines that will ambush and ensnare a tasty fly for food. Again, producing this all on its own. Can it do that? Well, can it? You know the answer. Takes a lot of ‘faith’ to believe that they can…all on their own.

But there’s the rub. All creation is just that. Creation. The work of an expert Creator and maestro Craftsman, a true Master Gardener and Ace Planner. All skillfully generated. All on His own.

The Bible makes this crystal clear–‘In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth…And the Spirit of God was hovering over the face of the waters’ (Genesis 1: 1-2). Also–‘Thus says the Lord who made the earth, the Lord who formed it to establish it–the Lord is his name’ (Jeremiah 33: 2). And–‘In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made…He was in the world, and the world was made through him…’ (John 1: 1-3, 10). This is a smattering of what the Bible says about our Creator God.

Let’s break the habit of giving credit where none is due. Or to any philosophy that eliminates the true source of everything, attributing genius more to the creation than its Creator. So, move aside, Mother Nature. Take an early retirement.

Let’s gaze at God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit. And bless His superlative creative power, giving praise right where it belongs. To the One who made and sustains everything. All on His own.

Thank you, Lord, for being the Creator of all. My praise to you alone. Amen.

Our previous home was built in 1945. Old when we bought it and lots older when we sold it. We put sweat and tears into that place (especially by my wife), and too much money, which barely came back to us when it was sold, as it had appreciated very little over the twenty years we had lived there. At times, it felt like it owned us! You know the feeling? I hope not.

One persistent and unsightly issue was drainage. We lived on a hillside, which provided panoramic views of the rivers below us, the Pacific Ocean to our west, and even the summit of Mt. Rainier, on a crystal-clear winter day, looking out our kitchen windows. Above ground, we relished incomparable scenery. But it was below ground that messed with us. As in broken pipes.

These were vintage clay ones that ushered our abundant Pacific Northwest rainwater from our gutters and downspouts, flowing over our sloped driveway, to the streets below, and then to who-knows-where. Sounds good, doesn’t it? However, over the years, long before we became owners, the pipes began to deteriorate. The drains collapse, clogging waterways, causing liquid messes to creep into myriad crevices, especially our basement and garage. Try clearing out the clay debris to unclog the passage, and you’ll discover why broken underground pipes are a homeowner’s nightmare.

Spiritually, that’s also true. When sin breaks us down and neutralizes our conscience. Or our will to follow God falters, and we try to hide from Him, maybe fooling those around us, but never pulling the wool over His eyes. No can do!

‘Broken pipes’ occur when we stop praying. Lose confidence that the Lord hears us. Becomes hot air and a colossal waste of time. Or when dust gathers on our Bibles. And we hear less of Jesus’ voice. Or proceed with what we know is dead wrong, roughing it out, telling God to take a hike, so to speak, hoping to get away with it, suspecting that we won’t. And we don’t. Stubborn fools.

Like God’s family in Jeremiah 2: 13–‘…for my people have committed two evils: they have forsaken me, the fountain of living waters, and hewed out cisterns for themselves, broken cisterns that can hold no water.’

Turning their backs on God cuts them off from life-giving water. The wells that they build for themselves break down, empty out, and wind up dry as dust.

Might this be you today? Feeling far from Jesus? Not where you want to be? Any ideas on how to return to Him? You must have some. Think hard. And ask for the Lord’s help. Turn around, and you’ll find Him with open arms, waiting patiently and lovingly for your return…to Him.

On the other hand, if you’re blessed with experiencing closeness to Jesus, then keep on doing what you’re doing. Don’t slack off. It’s too easy to become distracted. Stay focused on Jesus. Keep your spiritual hands digging up the old, busted, junky clay pipes and replacing them with new PVC ones that won’t break or corrode. Pray. Dive into your Bible. Remove what’s causing any breakdown that keeps you even a tiny bit from your Lord.

It’s a new year. Make the most of it. Get that spiritual drainage problem fixed. Don’t say you’ll do it. Do it!

Lord God, help me to live more for you. For Jesus’ sake. Amen.