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.

I’ve never been much of a fan of New Year’s Resolutions. Of course, silly ones like giving up prunes. Or vowing not to help anyone in any way all year long. Or vowing not to write any weekly devotionals in 2026. Basically, could you tell that I’m not into those turn-of-the-year pledges? But here’s an exception. You can find it in 1 Thessalonians chapter 4 in your New Testament.

For me, two verses stand out, offering good resolutions for 2026. Which ones? 1 Thessalonians 4: 1–‘…how you ought to walk and to please God, just as you are doing, that you do so more and more.’ And then in 1 Thessalonians 4: 10-11–‘But we urge you, brothers, to do this more and more, and to aspire to live quietly, and to mind your own affairs, and to work with your hands, as we instructed you, so that you may walk properly before outsiders and be dependent on no one.’ Did you notice a common phrase? Right. ‘More and more.’

By this, St. Paul is not urging the Thessalonian believers to gather more and more material things. To be collectors of overflowing stuff. To gather possessions galore, requiring more and more self-storage facilities, crammed full of priceless (!) odds and ends.

No. What’s mentioned pertains to our character, our life as Christians. To be ‘more and more’ who we claim to be. ‘More and more’ as true-blue followers of Jesus, with an intent to grow spiritually, and not just for this year alone.

God calls us to be ‘more and more’ obedient to His will. Less and less drawn to society’s latest whims of immorality, letting our lesser impulses rule the roost. We know what that involves, don’t we?

Then, later in 1 Thessalonians 4, we note what positive character traits we need ‘more and more’ of. To live quietly, minding our own business (yes, Paul writes that–check out 1 Thess. 4: 11!). ‘More and more’ working hard, not being a dependent sort or a goof off, being a monkey on someone else’s back or wallet. Not always looking for a handout, but applying our hands to productive work so we can help the truly needy and become givers more than takers.

In this new year, I’m hoping to be ‘more and more’ who I say I am as one of Jesus’ own, knowing that I’ll fall flat on my face more than I’d like to admit. But I pray that my intention will prevail– to be ‘more and more’ as Jesus wants me to be. That my follow-through will not lag too far behind His hopes and wishes, while never being ‘holier than thou’ or some spiritual goody two-shoes. All of which I’m not. Who said ‘Amen’?!

I want to be ‘more and more’ a genuine person of faith, even with warts and all, and not some phony-baloney stuck-up religious snob. ‘More and more’ opening my billfold for Gospel causes. ‘More and more’ with my head in God’s Word and less screen time that may drag my heart farther away from God. ‘More and more’ caring with less selfishness. ‘More and more’ forgiving others and even myself as the Lord does. ‘More and more’…

How’s that for New Year’s resolutions from someone who doesn’t make them?

Lord Jesus, I’d love to follow in your footsteps more and more. I need your help. For your sake. Amen.

When my wife and I retired, we imagined buying a home on the East Coast of the US, while keeping our current one out West, to be nearer family, while enjoying each coast’s seasonal good weather. As we checked out various options, our confusion levels reached astronomic heights, accompanied by no peace of mind. What to do? How and where and when? While visiting my mother in her retirement home and blabbing all about our dilemma, my brother gave some savvy advice. He’s the smarter one of the boys in my family!

His sage words? Rent! Don’t buy. Hang onto your retirement nest egg and let someone else shoulder the worries of home ownership. Go where you want. Stay here. Stay there. Just don’t get tied down. Hmm. There’s an idea.

And that’s what we did. Over and over again. At a 15th-century manor house in England for two months. In Brooklyn, New York, a couple of times. Some condos on Seabrook Island, South Carolina. Then, in the city of my birth, Jersey City, New Jersey, with a lower Manhattan view at sunset from the New Jersey side. Then, to find sun and warmth in winter, we rent in Palm Springs, California. Not forgetting all those rentals at my favorite place, down the shore, on the beach at Ocean City, New Jersey! Rent…rent…rent.

To be frank, some rentals have been satisfactory, even quite fine. Others, hardly worth remembering, which turn out to be quite hard to forget, where I hunt out a terrific bargain, which, as it turns out, proves that the old adage is still true–‘you get what you pay for’.

The last straw came with a vengeance. I won’t say where, but this apartment turned out to be an ant-infested dump, featuring cheap, thin, sheer window curtains as blankets and bedspreads (that’s right), no heat until two weeks after our stay was up, topped off by a television possessed by something evil. This hangout, when pictured on the rental online site, seemed like some other place, the opposite of what we’d fallen into, all for a rock-bottom weekly price, offered by what turned out to be a slumlord.

Oh well, can’t win ’em all. But you can see why my wife handed me my walking papers concerning future vacation rentals! ‘But it was such a deal!’ ‘Good for you. You’re fired!’

I was thinking about this as I read John 14, where Jesus reminds us of our home with Him, over the hilltop, on the other side of this life, where death is defeated, and joy reigns forever. Our home away from home. With no more stodgy rentals. No more dodgy hotels. Or packing up and moving on. Missed connections, lost luggage, security checks, or delayed flights.

For Jesus promises something better, truly the very best. For those who believe in Him, who trust His Word more than anyone else’s, hear our Lord’s promise–‘In my Father’s house are many rooms (I like the King James Version translation of ‘mansion’ better! Don’t you?)…I go to prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also’ (John 14: 2-3).

His assurances should put a smile on my face that nothing and no one can ever wipe off. But do they? Too often, sad to say, I allow little troubles to push Jesus’ good words to the back burner of my mind. So far away that they don’t do me much good.

So I mope around, being overly sensitive to the slights of others, intended or not. Worried about what shoe will drop next. Or what’s in the mail. Or that medical test result. Or whatever troubles will cast ominous shadows into this coming new year.

This week, I’m going to remind myself of what Jesus says in John 14, about that place He’s preparing for you and me. That we’ll be with Him always. And all for good. For the worst day we’ll ever have in this life is the worst day we’ll ever have. Heaven will be just that. And not a smidgeon less.

And I’ll bet, while not being a betting man, that as I focus on my Lord and what He says for a change, my heart and mind will run on better tracks. Less wobbling and waffling, wondering if I should trust God or just tough it out on my own.

No close calls, let alone a derailment or two, falling into prior sins. But more with a steady confidence that Jesus is in front of me and behind me, above and below, and by my side. As close as close can be, knowing that He’s totally trustworthy. And that on His train, He’ll lead me exactly where He wants me to go. Always with Him. Finally, in my home away from home!

Lord Jesus, thank you for your words to live by. Help me to rely on them more and more. Amen.

Christmas Day is right around the corner. A day to celebrate, thanking God for the gift of His only Son, Jesus. The Babe of Bethlehem. The promised Messiah, who saves us and makes us His own. That should be the best Christmas gift of all. Is it enough for you?

As you explore this gift, you discover that you can have a relationship with God unlike any other. Where you can cozy up closer to Jesus and pour out your heart to Him. Is that like your bond with God? Or mine? Or are we a tad too polite to ask Him for something? Presumptuous to expect the Lord of Creation and History to pay any attention to little old me? Or you?

I’ve known some who think it’s selfish to ask the Lord for anything for themselves. And we know many who can’t see beyond themselves. Oy veh, such a choice. I’d rather be like those found in Psalm 107.

In what way? All throughout this psalm, a certain phrase is repeated–‘Then they cried to the Lord in their trouble, and he delivered them from their distress’ (Ps. 107: 6, 13, 19, 28). Four times they wail and howl to God, shedding buckets of tears. All their troubles are placed at His feet. He hears everything and answers them all in His way and in His time. Should we hold back and tough it out all on our own? Not on your life. For cryin’ out loud, tell your Lord!

There’s even more found in Psalm 107–‘Let them thank the Lord for his steadfast love, for his wondrous works to the children of man’ (vs. 8, 15, 21, 31). Don’t forget to be thankful, especially during the Christmas season. Keep Christ front and center. Never use His name as a swear word. Never. But bless Jesus, exuding appreciation and gratitude. Instead of a potty mouth, always have a holy one.

Enjoy a very Merry Christmas. And a Happy Christmas to all our British and Commonwealth readers as well!

Thank you, Jesus, for coming into our world to love and save us and be with us forever. Such a gift. Amen.

In Revelation chapter 14, the 144,000 sing their praises to God. Avoiding all the crazy guestimates about the meaning of numbers and identities, obviously, these are all the saints of all time praising God Most High. Like the angels who sing to those watchful Christmas shepherds, saying, ‘Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among those with whom he is pleased!’ (Luke 2: 8-14 for the full story). During Advent, we love to sing the carol ‘Angels We Have Heard on High’, which is a resounding musical echo of glorious praise for the coming Messiah, Jesus.

Now, it’s true that loud noises aren’t always among our favorite things. Annoying ones, like when trucks run compressors to clean household rugs. Or when, on vacation, another of those blasted compressors, across the street from where we’re renting, revs up its noisome racket daily from 8am to 4pm. Terrible.

But this din of the angels is of a different sort. No raising a ruckus but a blending of tones and overtones, lifting high their melodious praises to God.

When my wife and I were staying at Niagara Falls, we loved the nighttime fireworks display. I’ve enjoyed any such illuminations since childhood. But here we had the merging of the roar of the falls, the booms and dazzle of the fireworks, along with lightning and thunder from a fierce storm that rolled in that same night that I just didn’t want to stop.

In heaven, joyous singing will go on forever. It will be impossible not to raise our voices, to thank the Lord for all His wonder and goodness. Couldn’t stop if we wanted to, which we don’t and won’t. We’d literally explode trying to keep all our praise inside us.

No way. Let it out. Maybe sing a little louder in church this Sunday? With a carol or two? Give a good shout?

Like those angels heard on high by shepherds here below.

Lord Jesus, I love you and am happy to tell you that each and every day. Amen.

I know Thanksgiving Day here in the United States has passed, and that we’re into the celebration of Advent, preparing for the birth of our Savior, Jesus Christ. But why not continue giving thanks, never letting up or taking for granted what the Lord provides? As in the humbling joy of being in His family. And our gratitude to Jesus for saving us from eternal separation from God. Thanksgiving is a holiday to hold onto.

Digging deeper into our Bibles to discover more about never-ending thankfulness, we meet the Old Testament character Nehemiah, back in downtrodden Jerusalem, on leave from his political job as cupbearer to the Persian king. Nehemiah gets to work, organizing the rebuilding of the Holy City’s walls and gates. Later, in chapter 12, he gathers a team of priests and Levites whose primary responsibilities are to praise and thank God musically.

What exactly is their calling? Read Nehemiah 12: 8–‘And the Levites… (were) in charge of the songs of thanksgiving.’ These were singers and choir leaders. This is their main job? That’s what it says. No, it’s not some spiritual hobby for brownie points. But an appointed privilege almost beyond measure. To lead God’s people in musical admiration, waxing lyrical to the Almighty.

This was nothing new. Read on–‘For long ago in the days of David and Asaph there were directors of the singers, and there were songs of praise and thanksgiving to God’ (v. 46). Even before Solomon’s Temple was built, grateful songs rang throughout Moses’ Tabernacle, its courts, and the streets of Old Jerusalem.

In Nehemiah’s day, when Jerusalem’s walls and rebuilt Temple were dedicated, thanksgiving never lets up. It was so prevalent that this happened–‘…and rejoiced, for God had made them rejoice with great joy; the women and children also rejoiced. And the joy of Jerusalem was heard far away’ (v. 43). Joyous thanks echo throughout the Holy City’s hills and valleys and even beyond.

Our thanks to God should never let up. Or be limited to one day a year. But more like Anna in the Christmas story, who stays in Herod’s Temple, waiting patiently year after year, to see the Messiah of Israel. Her patience and perseverance never let up until she finds the Messiah–‘And coming up that very hour she (Anna) began to give thanks to God…’ (Luke 2: 38).

This Christmas season heralds a time to thank God for all His good gifts to us, especially His Son, Jesus. All month long, let our praises be heard. Singing carols and all. Planning gifts to bless those we love. Giving to those desperately in need.

May joy fill our hearts and homes with continual… Well, you know what. Just never let up!

Thank you, Father, for the gift of your Son Jesus. Amen.

One of my favorite characters in the Christmas story is an old man named Simeon. You know him. A godly senior citizen, who patiently waits for the promised Messiah, who will bring salvation to his people. Long-in-the-tooth Simeon checks out all the babies brought to Jerusalem’s Temple, hoping that the Holy Spirit would nudge his soul, revealing the coming Son of God. And oh, the excitement when Simeon comes across Joseph and Mary’s baby boy that special day, one like no other!

After praising God for the wondrous gift of the Messiah, Simeon utters ominous words to Mary–‘…Behold, this child is appointed for the fall and rising of many in Israel, and for a sign that is opposed (and a sword will pierce through your own soul also), so that the thoughts from many hearts may be revealed’ (Luke 2: 34-35). Not all tinsel and glitter with the coming of Jesus. Or wrapping paper, toys and mulled cider, either. Not quite. Pain will eventually be experienced. Hearts shattered and broken.

And here’s where I wonder. I know what it feels like to be hurt. To be yelled at and misunderstood. Rejected and blamed, rightly or wrongly. And so do you. But I wonder how God feels when I disobey Him. The times when I act as if He doesn’t even exist, not asking His thoughts about big things and little ones. Or when I’m begging for what I must have while I couldn’t care less about His feelings or His will. I wonder. So does He.

As we enter this Advent season, it’s time to focus on Jesus, caring about Him and His feelings. To please Him above all else. Telling Jesus how much we love Him, even when things don’t go our way. Especially then. And to make the Bible our first choice for guidance. It’s God’s flawless GPS!

St. Augustine, the early North African theologian, said that God thirsts to be thirsted after. Or words to that effect. Chew on that for a while. Do my desires lean God’s way? Do I give a hoot about my Lord? What He wants? His feelings? After all, St. Paul wrote this–‘And do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God…’ (Eph. 4: 30). Can you imagine? That we can hurt, distress, and wound our God? Can hardly take that in.

As we approach Christmas, why not focus on pleasing God? To thirst after Him. To make Jesus happy. How would that be for a change? I wonder…

I love you, Jesus, and thank you for all your goodness and care. Amen.