My wife and I loved visiting the ancient ruins of Pompeii in Italy. Been there twice but never long enough. Last year the crowds were overbearing. Wall-to-wall tourists including us. We relished taking in what we could but didn’t have time for everything that we wanted to see. In these post-pandemic, travel boom days, we were sardined, chock full of travelers.

We heard about a recent Pompeiian discovery of two women in a home next to a bakery. They were crushed to death. Underneath them, archeologists unearthed that these women’s bodies were covering over a child. Probably one of the mothers hovering and covering, hoping beyond hope. What a tender yet tragic find.

The three died due to the accumulating ash and pumice which collectively collapsed the fragile roof of that home. Even without a chance to survive, the first instinct was to try to cover and protect that young child.

Now they’re unearthed two thousand years after that AD 79 eruption of Mt. Vesuvius. They’re no longer under ash, yet still clutched together.

This discovery reminds me of how our Lord covers and hovers over us to safeguard us in times of trouble. I’ve sensed God’s hovering over me as some proverbial roof comes crashing down. I haven’t seen Him face to face, but I know that what He promises in His Word is true. He loves us and will never ignore us, hovering over us with tenderness and care.

Isaiah 31: 5 puts it this way–‘Like birds hovering, so the Lord of hosts will protect Jerusalem; he will protect and deliver it; he will spare and rescue it.’ The literal Hebrew is more pointed–‘…So Yahweh of hosts will cover Jerusalem; Covering, he will deliver it, Hovering, he will save it.’

In the Book of Genesis, we find that God hovers over His creation–‘The earth was without form and void, and darkness was over the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God was hovering over the face of the waters’ (Gen. 1: 2). No Darwinian evolution. No Einsteinian Theory of Relativity. Forget about chance or happenstance. Rather God hovers over what His Spirit’s hands mold and fashion. He’s creating something special for Himself and His own.

Remember back to the exodus of Israel out of abject slavery in Egypt. How the angel of death passes over with judgment on all the firstborn. From human to animal, firstborn death would reign supreme. Sorrow would fill the air from the poorest of the poor up the social ladder to the high and mighty Pharoah himself.

But not for God’s people. They’re to be spared. Hovered over and covered. They’re to put blood on the doorposts of their homes allowing the angel of death to pass over them–‘The blood shall be a sign for you, on the houses where you are. And when I see the blood, I will pass over you, and no plague will befall you to destroy you, when I strike the land of Egypt’ (Ex. 12: 13).

The Hebrew word ‘pass over’ can also mean to ‘hover over’ or to ‘cover over’. When we know Jesus as our Lord and Savior, His blood covers our sins, ushering in forgiveness. All through this life and eternity, God will devotedly hover over us so that no harm will ever be able to separate us from Jesus. Sure we’ll face troubles here and now, but we’ll never be alone.

He covers. He hovers. Think about that this week. That should make quite a difference, shouldn’t it?

Lord Jesus, thank you for all your good care of me. Amen.

We had no idea. Not a clue. About what? And who are ‘we’? We’re grammar school students, attending South Mountain Elementary in Millburn, New Jersey. Almost all of us began with Kindergarten and went through 6th grade. For me, it started with Miss Ford and culminated with Mrs. Carnegie. I loved our school and still communicate with ‘kids’ from that happy time.

Yet we had no idea. In those days, school began with reading a psalm and then reciting the Lord’s Prayer. In certain grades, I was the only Christian in my class, which made saying the Lord’s Prayer somewhat strange as the rest of my classmates were Jewish. And this was Jesus’ prayer to His disciples. But we had no idea.

We did read from the Old Testament, which should have pleased all involved. However, the only Psalm I remember being read was the shortest one, Psalm 117. This psalm and the Lord’s Prayer were rushed through as if blabbed in gibberish. To get it done and over with. A requirement met and nothing more. Perfunctory and rote. Going through the motions. Could we have cared less? Hard to say. Can’t speak for others, but it was true for me. I had no idea.

I was a Christian in name only. In that, I wasn’t Jewish. Many classmates celebrated both Hannukah and Christmas. I had only Santa. To say that our required daily school exercise was a totally forgettable experience would be an understatement.

In High School, I heard about Jesus and His love for me. That He offered me a personal relationship. The preacher on the radio said so, and I reached out with both hands to embrace Jesus, whatever that meant. I only had a promise. Little knowledge. Almost nothing.

But an idea was dawning within me. A relationship with Jesus began and started to grow. A maturing process that is still active and needed. Now I ponder Psalm 117 with different eyes and ears. It contains only two verses yet richly landscapes God’s love and faithfulness that transcends many boundaries.

A God for all peoples. Not just a certain nation or race. For all who believe and follow Jesus. Not as before in name only. A label without substance, having no idea. No commitment. A fairweather follower at best.

No, but now I relish following behind our Lord as wobbly as my walk can be. Thinking more about Him than myself at least at times. Exalting the One worthy of my applause. To whom I want to wax eloquent, singing His praises. Capturing His ideas and making them my own for a change.

Then I had no idea. Maybe only a hunch or a suspicion. An itch I couldn’t scratch. But then came Jesus, knocking at the door of my heart. Offering Himself with a new day dawning, so to speak. I had no idea, but now I know far better that the best is yet to come!

Thank you, Lord Jesus, for all the love and faithfulness that you show me. Amen.

I was mortified and deeply offended. Flabbergasted. Down in the dumps. Dejected. In a blue funk. Well, you get my point and it’s not on the top of my head!

How could he? What’s going on? My wife and I attend a week-long conference where a friend is the speaker. The weather the week before was hideous. Sub-hurricane winds and tsunami-like rains mess with where we’re going. All week long I e-mail my friend with the latest weather updates. He’s most appreciative, especially when I mention that conditions are improving and that his trip two thousand miles west should be without incident.

On the opening night of our gathering, my compatriot mentioned the fierce weather system that blew through leaving a mess in its tracks. And that someone special had let him know all the meteorological details.

I’m proudly sitting on the edge of my seat, ready to stand up or raise my humble hand, waiting to hear my glorious name mentioned. Can you guess what happens? Right! Someone else, obviously less worthy or accurate, probably a big donor to his ministry, gets named and I’m not even a whisper or one waved at. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. Phooey on youey! Hey, what about me?

I hadn’t thought about this wicked slight until I read the opening verse of Psalm 115–‘Not to us, O Lord, not to us, but to your name give glory, for the sake of your steadfast love and your faithfulness!’ Uh oh. That stops me in my tracks.

The psalmist highlights who gets the credit in our lives. Sure, thank someone else. Be grateful, giving credit where it’s due, like to someone who gives you weather alerts out of the kindness of their heart! See how I am? But you know better.

Thank the Lord for everything. Note in this psalm that praise goes to the Lord two times. Twice it’s mentioned. ‘Not to us…not to us…’ As if to say it once is insufficient. Though we love to get the credit, it truly belongs to God. Need I say that again? ‘Not to us…not to us…’

Why does God deserve it all? Why not? After all, He’s God and we’re not. His endless love, faithfulness, and reliability never let us down. Jesus gave His all on the cross to save us from a horrendous future. He is our all in all, always and forever. I can’t credit Him with enough superlatives. He’s beyond measure, worthy of all the credit.

This week, let’s praise Him. You can hardly overdo it. Probably need reminding. Easily forgotten and neglected, just like for any dear soul who gave weather forecasts out of a humble and generous heart, looking for a measly word of credit, trying to save someone else from anxieties and fear!

Is there any medicine out there for the likes of me? Sure there is. Start by getting off of me, I, and myself and paying more attention to Jesus. Enough said? Is it? I better repeat it–‘not to us, O Lord…not to us, but to your name…’

Lord Jesus, we love you and praise you now and forever. Amen.

Jesus sends seventy-two disciples to neighboring towns to preach, help, and heal. They’ll no doubt face skepticism and rejection. On the contrary, after returning they crowd around Jesus, blabbing like an auctioneer, telling all about their mission and what they’d witnessed including, as it says in Luke 10, that ‘…even the demons are subject to us in your name!’ (v. 17).

Jesus’ reply is puzzling. As if experiencing a vision, He says this–‘…I saw Satan fall like lightning from heaven’ (v. 18). The disciples’ success is summarized as if Jesus witnesses the archenemy falling out of God’s domain. This allusion goes way back in sacred history when Satan originally revolts against God Almighty and fights the big fight only to utterly lose, getting booted out of heavenly glory along with angels who have signed up with the wrong side.

What could possess Satan to make such a poor, toxic, and terminal decision? I imagine that this ungodly enemy got caught up in himself. All heady floating around like a modern-day astronaut without gravity. That he craved being numero uno. First in his class. Head honcho. The big enchilada, while shoving God to the side.

And that’s when gravity prevails. He gets so into himself, that relishing his self-importance causes Satan to deflate, falling from the sky, and plummeting down to rock-hard earth. A force of gravity that will only add pain and suffering not only for himself but everywhere.

Here’s a hint: don’t get too much into yourself. It’s easy to do. Focus elsewhere. Think of others once in a while, for a refreshing change of pace. Be like one of those seventy-two working for the Master. Being more honest about who ultimately blesses my life and yours. Giving credit where it’s due. You know where and you know who. Don’t you?

Anything for Jesus, even a cup of water to a thirsty person (Mark 9: 41), results in Satan falling farther off his nasty perch. But, while he can, especially since he knows that his time is short (Rev.12: 12), Satan wants nothing more than to discourage us into a spiritual slumber of cold storage. To drown us in a funk mood. Don’t let his gravity force drag you one step closer to his rotten level.

Get up. Pray. Wait on the Lord. I know, easier said than done. I’m no different. But there are ways to overcome that free-falling destroyer and accuser. Live for Jesus. Rejoice in the Lord. Just like those seventy-two did many years ago. Cherish your Savior and Lord.

Time for action? You know what to do? I do. So, let’s giddyup and go…for Jesus!

Lord Jesus, help me to be busy for you this week. Amen.