A few years ago, our hoped for bumper crop of tulips failed–spotty, few and far between, even though we planted tons of bulbs for an amazing display that only sparsley showed up. It was disappointing and frustrating, especially for my wife, the chief gardener in this household.

We noticed that some small birds (you can tell I’m quite the ornithologist!) keep getting into our paltry patch of tulips. Back and forth they go. All day long. We can see them as long as there’s daylight. What’s up? You guessed it. A nest is being built. Tiny twigs, placed precisely and carefully, make an amazing home for what comes in a few weeks.

When the eggs hatch, there they are–four wee ones with feathers, beaks, and all. The mother bird keeps super active carting food for her hungry tykes. Worms and all get lowered into gaping, famished beaks and gullets. Let me tell you, she’s at work providing for her own all day long and maybe at night as well.

This reminds me of some Bible verses. Psalm 57: 1–‘Be merciful to me, O God, be merciful to me, for in you my soul takes refuge; in the shadow of your wings I take refuge, till the storms of destruction pass by.’ Isaiah 34: 15–‘There the owl nests and lays and gathers her young in her shadow…’ And Matthew 23: 37–‘…How often would I have gathered your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings…’

Watching new life, all provided for by our Lord, right in our own backyard, we couldn’t help but praise God for His caring for us as well–in all ways and at all times. He feeds us in many ways, especially in worship while digging deeper into our Bibles.

I’ll thank the Lord Jesus this week for watching over me, providing for me, and loving me. Not just me. Will you join me? I would love to have others under His wings, in His nest, and backyard.

Lord Jesus, for all you do for me, thank you. Amen.

My Nana used to say that her doctor had read only one more book than she had. Not sure what her point was. I don’t remember her ever reading a book or owning one. Doesn’t say much for her doctor, does it? Nana was kind of an odd duck in other ways, as well. But I loved her. After all, she was the only grandparent that I knew.

Recently, I had one of those body scans that require you to be tubed in this gargantuan machine that moves back and forth, sketching out all kinds of potential problems in your body. Claustrophobia, an unwelcome guest, accompanies me inside this casket of sorts. Uncomfortable placing my arms over my head for almost an hour. Pain and suffering for what? Had this doctor read one more book than me?

Before getting into this wonder box, waiting an hour for some fancy goop to travel my innards, I was reading ‘Les Miserables’ by Victor Hugo. It was my fourth time relishing this 1400+ page, 165-year-old classic masterpiece. Next to the Bible, my favorite tome.

When led into the torture chamber by the doctor-technician, he asks me what I’m reading. He’d never heard of it. And what was it about? Clueless about ‘Les Miz’? Not only the book, the musical play, or even the movie? Could this be my Nana’s doctor of ill-reading? And, can he scrutinize and make sense of my scan results? Seems he did. So he said, and so I hoped.

How about God? Is He aware of us? Does He have even a smidgeon of an idea about what we go through down here on planet Earth? Listen to Psalm 56: 8–‘You have kept count of my tossings; put my tears in your bottle. Are they not in your book?’

What? Yes, His book. Think about this verse. It’s saying that anything in our lives, even our tossing and turning in bed at night with all kinds of dark fears and anxieties, is cared for by God. Even our tears He cherishes. As if kept in a bottle. And recorded in a book He writes and keeps.

That tells me that our Lord really loves us. He cares so much, more than just putting our pictures on a refrigerator magnet. He has His eyes on us. He keeps tabs on everything. He minds the store. With our Lord, there’s no ‘Going Out of Business’ sale. Nary a sign that says ‘Weather Permitting’ or ‘Closed From Noon to One’. We’re never out of His tender, loving care. Never.

This tells me that I can relax and trust Him. Will I? Will you? With everything? Leaving nothing out? Really?

Thank you, Jesus, for loving me so much. Amen.

Over the years, I’ve been called different names, some not so complimentary. As a kid, I added a few extra pounds around the old tum-tum. Hence, some neighbor boys nicknamed me ‘hunker’. I’d earned that moniker but never shined to it. A family member called me ‘punk. Thanks!

In a church going through a ferocious civil war, a new staff member called me, the senior pastor, a ‘primadonna’ at an elder’s meeting that ended poorly, to say the least. Thanks again! Earned? I’m not sure. But he thought so.

To his credit, years later, this former colleague phoned me to apologize and ask for forgiveness. He has endured much the same treatment and realizes the severity of his betrayal. A tad reluctantly, I did forgive him, noting his courage and humility in contacting me.

One name I’ve never been called is ‘fool’. At least not to my face. That I know of. Reading Psalms 53, we encounter that term. The ‘fool’. In what sense? Financially? Acquiring debt that can never be paid back? Living an immoral, reckless lifestyle? All such would be foolish, but there’s a different slant here. The fool disregards God, shuns Him and His ways, thinking that he can squeak into some decent afterlife, if there even is one, by being a ‘good’ person. All by his own steam.

Psalm 53: 1–“The fool says in his heart, ‘There is no God.'” The fool denies God’s existence. Probably posits some kind of natural evolution that produces all that there is by chance and fate. More karma than Christ. More bizarre explanations than the truth of the Bible. Foolish to discount the Lord and think that man is the focus of everything when God is life’s hinge.

Nothing remains outside His hands. The fool thinks so, but the fact is that they’re wrong. No outsmarting God or His Word. No avoiding His claims on all of life. Foolish to think otherwise.

I’m glad the word ‘fool’ doesn’t apply to me, at least not in the Psalm 53 way. For I believe in Jesus and depend upon Him, trying as best I can (often not very well) to live for Him and follow His ways. But don’t look to me as an example to live by. You shouldn’t and hopefully don’t.

You know where to focus. Right. On God. The Father, His Son Jesus, and the Holy Spirit. Quite the heavenly dream team! Partnership forever. It would be foolish to look anywhere else, wouldn’t it?

Lord Jesus, you are my all in all forever. Amen.

Why does God require so much of me? As if He’s always there with His hand out. Wanting this or that. Any ‘fun’ things get nixed. If I don’t want to do something, I’m afraid that’s exactly what He wants me to do. Know what I mean, or have you rightfully concluded that I’m as wacky as can be?

What does God want? Let’s see what Psalm 50: 14-15 has to say–‘Offer to God a sacrifice of thanksgiving, and perform your vows to the Most High, and call upon me in the day of trouble; I will deliver you, and you shall glorify me.’ Such helpful simplicity is often overlooked, at least by me.

Stop trying to placate an angry God, appease Him, pay Him off with some tithe tidbits, or perform hair-brained religious rituals, garner as many brownie points as possible, and tip the scales in your favor. Sounds familiar? Be honest. I’m trying to be.

Basically, these words from the Psalms unveil hope for God’s people. Not some new commandment or Sears’ catalogue of endless rules. No. But giving thanks is the main course on today’s menu. Saying ‘thank you’ to our Lord God. Showing appreciation for all He’s done for us. Especially for putting up with me (and you?!).

And that business about ‘vows’ in Psalm 50 has to do with following through with what we know is right, with what pleases the Lord. From a grateful and willing heart that recognizes what Jesus has done and still does for us. Being men and women of our word. Say it, do it. If you don’t mean it, don’t open your trap. Eager to bless our Lord Jesus, to bring joy to His heart. Not a have-to, but a want-to. You know, don’t you?

Forget trying to bargain with God. That’s a colossal waste of His and your time. Be upfront and transparent. Leave room to confess failures, disappointments, and sin. I have a supersized storeroom crammed full with lots of this stuff I’d rather not talk about, except with my Lord, especially with Him. Remember that He loves to forgive and forget. Oh, to be like Him!

Bring any troubles you’re saddled with directly to Jesus, pronto. He promises to help–‘…I will deliver you, and you shall glorify me’ (Ps. 50: 15). How and when? I’ve no idea. That’s God’s business, which, to be honest, is none of mine. Thank God He’s in charge.

My part is to go with that flow. To trust that my Lord will honor His Word. When He does (and even before for a change), let gratitude and thanks flow from our hearts and mouths to His ears and heart. Why is it so hard to say ‘thank you’ to God? I don’t know why. Maybe you do. Regardless, let’s start doing more of just that this week. You think? Thanksgiving every day, all year long? Such a sacrifice?

Thank you, Jesus, for welcoming me into your family forever. Amen.

My poor Aunt Bertha couldn’t give up an addiction that possibly led to her demise. Drugs? No. Heavy drinker? No. Chain smoker? No. High roller gambler? No. Then what? Pickles! Pickles? Yes, those sodium-filled munchy and crunchy delectables.

She saw her doctor for high blood pressure. He identified that her sodium level was off the charts. She owned up to its cause: pickles! Big, juicy, salty yummies. And lots of them. Day in and day out, without fail.

After too many visits for the same issue, with no improvement noted, her doctor concluded that she wouldn’t knock the habit. She said she’d stopped buying pickles but admitted paying a neighbor to purchase and deliver them to her, like a smuggler with stolen property. Failing to heed the medico’s advice, her doctor fired her. ‘Get a different one. I have others who actually benefit from my expertise and follow my directions! You’re fired!’

It makes me wonder if Jesus might get fed up with me, my lackadaisical attitude toward obeying Him, my frivolous actions when seriousness is required (can you imagine?!), thumbing my nose at Him (not actually but in effect), so that He thinks it’s time to toss me aside. Give me the old heave-ho. I’ve given Him ample reasons to do just that. I’m fired?

Will He? Now, let me make it clear that if I’m trying to get away with being heaven-bound while living like the devil, confessing on Sunday morning while being like Satan the rest of the week, then I really have lots to worry about, being in a nasty, spiritually toxic pickle, indeed.

Thankfully, that’s not me. I love Jesus. I want to be more like Him, obedient to the core, knowing that some rotten apples still need to be removed from my barrel—and always will in this life.

So, will He boot me out of His family? Read 1 Thessalonians 4: 14-15,17–‘For since we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so, through Jesus, God will bring with them those who have fallen asleep…For this we declare to you by a word from the Lord…(we) will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air, and so we will always be with the Lord.’ And from Jesus directly–‘…whoever comes to me I will never cast out’ (John 6: 37).

Hear that? God gives us His word. That when we’re in Christ, there’s no getting fired. Period. But make sure you’re one of His own and staying close by His side. Don’t fool yourself. Be the genuine article. The real McCoy in God’s family. Then you’ll find yourself safe as safe can ever be and all fired up for Jesus!

Dear Jesus, for being my Savior and Lord, I thank you. Amen.