Thirst feels like your mouth and throat are made of cardboard. Can’t think of anything else but to get massive amounts of H2O down your gullet. Coming back from many hours roaming the streets of the Jordanian ancient city of Petra, we’re parched and dry as dust much like the long-abandoned metropolis itself. Didn’t help one bit that the outdoor temperature climbs past 120 degrees.

Arriving at a local hotel for a late lunch, we gulp down what seems like gallons of cold, clean bottled ice water. Returning to our cruise ship, we dive into a huge bucket of the same. Finally, a liquid equilibrium has been reached. Dehydration banished.

From this experience, we feel for our Savior, dying on the cross, crying out ‘…I thirst’ (John 19:28). What liquid is given Him? Sour wine, dripping from a sponge affixed to a hyssop branch, shoved right at His mouth. He takes none of it. The end approaches. More like the final straw. He bows His head and gives up His life. Jesus dies.

But something else unsettles me. I wonder if our Lord, in some ways, is still thirsty. Not in heaven. Not with the Father, the Holy Spirit, angels, and His saints from all the ages. Not there or with them.

No, I’m thinking about something else. About His thirst for a closer walk with me and thee. Yearning to hear more prayers from my heart to His. Craving to see countless people raise their hands to Him for forgiveness and salvation. Hankering to have me cuddle up a little closer, trusting that He still knows best. Longing for me to look forward to all the blessings He has in His mansions over the hilltop. Those kinds of thirsting.

So, what can we give Him? To satisfy Him To quench His thirst. To please Him, for a change. Any ideas?

Lord Jesus, I want to please you. To be your friend and follower. For your sake. Amen.

It was a ‘best of times, worst of times’ moment. I’ve had a few over the years. But this one was an unholy mess. A true kettle of fish. A hard row to hoe.

After I left a church I never should have served (I know that now), I became an investment advisor for a large US firm. From pastor to financial planner. Quite the transition, yet the most wonderful 20 years. The best far outweighed the worst times of market and interest rate roller-coaster gyrations.

Years later, I’m contacted by a pastor friend in my denomination about preaching while he was away. Fine. I’ve preached time and again, but never for my old tribe. So, I agreed. How’d it go? Rather well. No rafters collapse, wiping out elders and deacons in one fell swoop. Only a few were in attendance. No earthquakes jar the sanctuary.

Feeling some after-the-fact discomfort, I decide to check in with the denominational committee that oversees pastors without a current church call. Like me. Their green light would nicely clear the air. Am I skating on ecclesiastical thin ice? Maybe I don’t notice cracks in the frozen H2O beneath my tootsies!?

My, oh my, what a gathering that was with that ministerial brain trust. More like a military tribunal. Felt like a plucked chicken before being tossed into a tub of boiling water. Through the wringer puts it mildly. What I simply want to know is if it’s okay to preach in one of their churches if needed. Sure the horse has left the barn, but I’m still a member in good standing, so these are my churches as well. Or so I thought. Dumb, stupid me!

Here comes a letter from that group the next week. After an ominous greeting of ‘Dear John’, I should have been suspicious. What did it say? Here’s the gist in a nutshell–never preach for us again. Never means never. In addition, hang up your hat and leave Dodge before we crank up the tar and feather machine. Never share the Gospel with any church anywhere again. Again, never. Now, nowhere. Not just in our precious denomination. You’re fired! Get out. Got it?

Actually, I didn’t. No moral or ethical charges had ever been filed against me (I made them put that in writing at the recommendation of a good, concerned Jewish friend, who was shocked that I had no union supporting me as their rabbis always had!). Yes, the majority of the elder board wanted me out, but 80% of the congregation said no way. It seems like a put-up job by jealous types. Somehow I outshine some? Tsk. Tsk. Shame on me.

Attending my local pastor’s weekly Bible study, I bring this letter with me, moaning and bemoaning my plight. What should I do? My back’s to the wall. Or is it? An old pastor, who maybe had one year of Bible school–maybe–immediately eyeballs me saying, ‘Did God call you to preach?’ I said, ‘Yes, He did’. He then bellowed out these words smack dab in my face–‘if God calls you to preach, you preach! Why do you listen to those people?’ I’m flabbergasted. Shocked. Dumbfounded.

He’s right. Why do I kowtow to them? As if a light goes on, I immediately send a letter to that hierarchical mob resigning then and there. Finished. Over and out. Kaput and Adios. They’re fired!

Guess what happens? Religious swat teams surround my house? Anthrax arrives in the mail with the indecency of having postage due? Threats come my way like a lingering blizzard in January? No self-respecting pastor ever speaks to me again? Shunned and disgraced?

Yeah, right! I never preached so much! Doors open up by the Lord in spite of aggressive efforts to keep me from following His calling. Time long passed to move on with Jesus. And I did and have.

We all face moments when we must stand up for Jesus. Never easy or faultless or without trembling knees. So, hear these words from the Bible–‘…We must obey God rather than men’ (Acts 5:29); and ‘…Whether it is right in the sight of God to listen to you rather than to God…'(Acts 4:19); and ‘…who was I that I could stand in God’s way?’ (Acts 11:17). We need divine toughening for the days ahead. Don’t we? Spiritual cement in our spines to stay faithful to Jesus and God’s Word.

What confronts you? Time to be who you say you are? His? And only His? By all means, stand up for Jesus. Firmly anchored in the truth of the Bible.

Be a soldier of the cross, knowing there’s victory in Jesus.

Thank you, Jesus, for giving me the courage to stand with you. Amen.

Why don’t the churches we’ve attended say the Apostle’s Creed? Also, hardly hear the Lord’s Prayer recited anymore. Okay, I understand that either one or both can become rote. Words thoughtlessly uttered. Meaning easily missed. Like furniture you no longer notice. Just there.

But here’s one phrase from the Apostle’s Creed –‘…Jesus Christ…he ascended into heaven, and sitteth on the right hand of God the Father Almighty…’ Hebrews 1:3 in the Bible says much the same–‘After making purification for sins, he (Jesus) sat down at the right hand of the Majesty on high…’

Sitting down symbolizes Jesus’ finished work, as well as emphasizing His exalted position beside God the Father. But reading the dramatic story of Stephen in Acts 7, I note something different. Jesus’s sitting position gives way to His standing.

Standing? Yes. Acts 7: 55-56–“But he (Stephen), full of the Holy Spirit, gazed into heaven and saw the glory of God, and Jesus standing at the right hand of God. And he said, ‘Behold, I see the heavens opened, and the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God.'”

Jesus, who typically sits, is found standing on both feet. Why? What’s changed? The Bible doesn’t say. But that doesn’t keep me from using my imagination. Through my mind’s eye, I perceive a new wrinkle by someone whose face gathers more of the same!

Stephen recounts ancient Israel’s history right up to the rejection of Jesus the Messiah. Stephen’s about to lose his life. The religious higher-ups will stone him to death, but not before he sees something that’s out of this world. Filled with God the Holy Spirit, Stephen sees the heavens open and gazes up at Jesus, at the right hand of God.

No longer sitting down, Jesus stands on His feet, ready to pounce on the evil happening to His faithful follower Stephen. Jesus jumps into action, welcoming his devoted disciple into eternal glory. Taking the first step, not allowing Satan and his mad coterie one chance of victory. No. Jesus will triumph. For Stephen. And for us.

When we face the difficult, even the seemingly impossible, know that the Son gets up and stands for it no longer. He will not allow evil to have the final say. Maybe for the moment but then watch out.

Jesus stands on His promises. So should we. He’s geared up to help. Make room. Here He comes!

Thank you, Jesus, for always standing with me. Amen.

People gripe about being overwhelmed. Work…kids…finances…politics. We’re bullied, bulldozed, and bludgeoned with anxiety. Or so we say. Whatever happened to that leisurely lifestyle we’re promised due to all the labor-saving devices just around the corner? The more digital ease we experience, the more that worry crowds out pleasure and enjoyment. Or so it seems. Some never get away from their infernal phones.

That’s when two verses from the book of Deuteronomy soothe my own weary soul–‘And if you faithfully obey the voice of the Lord your God, being careful to do all his commandments that I command you today, the Lord your God will set you high above all the nations of the earth. And all the blessings shall come upon you and overtake you, if you obey the voice of the Lord your God’ (Deut. 28:1-2).

Overwhelmed…with blessings. Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m not talking about getting more moolah as promised when you dig even deeper, giving to some greedy TV evangelist. Or some well-meaning writer of weekly devotionals! No. Hardly. But there does seem to be some correlation between leading a godly life and what comes our way. Not all the time. No guarantees. Or false promises. But on average.

However, even if I get nothing from the Lord, or tragedy knocks at my front door demanding entry and getting it, I want to obey Him. To love Him for being my God and Savior. No matter what. For when life turns bleak, especially then, I want to obey and love the One who loves me more than I can imagine. Again, no matter what, I’m all in for Jesus. Regardless, I’m His.

To be open and honest, that’s my resolve. What I’d like to happen. But I know how feeble my follow-through can be. That I straddle the fence too often. Half-hearted obedience, making up excuses for why I’m selfish, pig-headed, and insensitive. It must be from contracting polio as a toddler. Poor little me. Or how others have meanly treated me. Woe is me. That explains it. Or does it? No answer is required. No comments from Howdy Doody’s ‘Peanut Gallery’!

Frankly, Jesus has given me more blessings than I’ve deserved. Way more. And I thank Him for such generosity. It will take me all eternity to give Him the credit He warrants. Maybe I should start now? You think?

Forever begins this very second. Why not count your many blessings, seeing what He’s done for you? Sing them over and over again. Those showers of blessing. Blessed assurance that Jesus is mine. And that I’m His. What could be better?

Make this week overflow with daily thanks to the One who lives to give. To Jesus our Lord.

Thank you, Lord Jesus, for everything. Amen.

I’ve been misreading the 23rd Psalm. The most familiar of all. Yet I’ve goofed in understanding it. How? You know the opening words–‘The Lord is my shepherd…’ (Psalm 23:1). And Jesus speaking–‘I am the good shepherd’ (John 10:11). Who’s the shepherd? Obviously, God. And Jesus, God’s Son. So where are my crossed wires? Lend me your ears.

When renting the 15th-century ‘Old Manor House’ in Droitwich, England, we’re thrilled that the owner allows sheep to graze on all the lawns of his multi-acre property, nestled behind a walled mound that was a Roman moat. We get a kick out of watching their ambling along and rambling around, eating away munching on plums and apples, lazily lying down, then getting up to follow the sheep leader to another part of the same field.

One day their shepherd comes to haul them all away. For our evening meal? Perish the thought. When I ask the shepherd, Roy, what he’s up to, he reassures me that it’s mating season. Is he crossing his fingers behind his back, giving us a line of hooey, placating a couple of weak-stomached Americans? Strangely, we never see him or them again. We wonder.

What becomes clear is how obedient those wooly lawnmowers are to their shepherd on that fateful day. When he whistles, they pull up stakes and scram right toward him, cramming themselves, nose to nose like canned sardines, in his van. No rebels in their ranks. No mutiny on the lawns. That’s where I must come clean.

My version of Psalm 23 starts like this: ‘ I am my Lord’s shepherd, I lead…I want…I, I, I.’ Get out of the way. Lightning’s about to strike! For I’m instructing the Lord what should happen. Like I know best. Right? Wrong!

Of course, we have requests of Jesus in our prayers. He loves to hear from us. It’s open season with our pleas. But sometimes I get out of hand with great advice for the Almighty, telling Him what to do. Also how, when, and where. My bad, as people annoyingly say today.

So, I’m trying to let the Lord be my shepherd. Jesus is the good shepherd, in whose care we can relax. Trust Him wherever He’s leading. Go with His flow. Follow Him. Get out of His way. Confident in His timing. Keeping our eyes and ears attuned to Jesus. It’s much better this way. After all, it’s what He wants. What else matters, really?

Lord Jesus, thank you for being my Good Shepherd. Amen.

When Al Jolson stars in the 1927 movie ‘The Jazz Singer’ something amazing happens. Talkies get the show on the road. Jolson tells his cabaret audience–‘Wait a minute. Wait a minute. I tell ya, you ain’t heard nothin’ yet!’. Then to the stunned moviegoers’ surprise, he knocks their socks off singing ‘Toot, Toot, Tootsie, Goodbye!’ And Jolson is right–that’s only day one. Sound, color, and now digits. But in 1927 they ain’t heard nothin’ yet!

Back in Moses’ day, in Deuteronomy 3, he recounts to God’s people hat wthe Lord has done for them. Yet he barely scratches the surface. For God gives so much to His own. Then and now– salvation, forgiveness, freedom, protection, care, and provision. Best of all? His love. You name it, and He gives it…and more.

Deuteronomy 3: 23-24–“And I pleaded with the Lord at that time, saying, ‘O Lord God, you have only begun to show your servant your greatness and your mighty hand. For what god is there in heaven or on earth who can do such works and mighty acts as yours?'” ‘…you have only begun to show…’ It’s only the beginning. ‘You ain’t heard nothin’ yet!’

However long you’ve believed in Jesus, there’s much more ahead, the likes of which we can hardly imagine. When Columbus discovers America, he knows nothing of the Rocky Mountains, the mighty Mississippi River, the plains and deserts, lakes, wildlife, and native folk. He has no idea. But as time goes by, others uncover the unfolding majesty of this land.

Know that God has much more in store for us. When the Apostle Paul experiences some ecstatic moment that he can’t talk about, which he can hardly put into words, it’s not about what he sees, but what he hears that shocks him–‘…and he heard things that cannot be told, which man may not utter’ (2 Cor. 12:3). Just the sounds of heaven prove incomparable. ‘You ain’t heard nothin’ yet!’

Heard, seen, touched, smelled…all amplified to the nth degree–that will be heaven for sure. Can hardly wait. But there’s more to do this side of paradise. Maybe it’s something more than doing. Possibly it’s growing to be all that God made us to be.

Spending time with our Lord, developing and deepening our love for Him. Opening closed doors in our minds and hearts, airing things out, and asking God to clean us up. Using His vacuum to remove our sins, so to speak. To grow and mature as believers in Jesus. Be the love of His life.

And know that whenever it’s our time to approach heaven’s gates, ‘You ain’t heard nothin’ yet!’

Lord Jesus, thank you for all you have in store for me now and then. Amen.

The gardens around our home are becoming more beautiful and lush. Mainly due to my wife’s ‘green thumb’. She’s a wiz at gardening. Removing critters that eat away with abandon. Weeds don’t have a chance. New ideas grab hold of her only to make our gardens even more gorgeous.

The earth that makes up our home lot consists of river rock soil. Sounds fine until you want to dig into it. Almost impossible. Hit rocks at every turn. Can hardly make a dent. But after eight years of hammering away, it’s coming along and giving way.

What makes the difference? Good old compost. Fresh scraps from meal preparation, coffee grounds, wood chips, and especially the gifts given by worms who eat that stuff leaving casings (manure) that add richness to our compost. Planting this mixture into our soil, and blending it thoroughly, produces a gumbo of luxurious soil. Compost.

Matthew 13 contains Jesus’ parable about soil. A farmer spreads seeds over his fields. Most wind up falling on less than favorable soil conditions that then produce a poor crop, if any at all. Some get eaten by birds right off the bat. Other seeds have shallow roots and don’t survive. Some grow up between noxious weeds that choke the life out of them. The last group is planted in good soil, grabbing hold and producing crops like gangbusters. Thirty, sixty, one hundred-fold of grain galore!

Later on, Jesus explains to His disciples that the good soil represents God’s Word implanted in them and then acted upon–‘As for what was sown on good soil, this is the one who hears the word and understands it. He indeed bears fruit and yields…’ (Matt. 13:23). The good earth of God’s Word leads to a productive life for Jesus. That’s what I want. To be useful for the Master. Who wouldn’t?

I picture the Lord’s good soil involving compost. For when you read your Bible you come across all kinds of characters. A concoction of personalities and abilities. Much like you and me. Many start out strong for God and then wind up on some trash pile somewhere out in the desert. Like King Saul and Solomon. Others amble along trying to avoid trouble, only to find it smack dab in their faces. Like Gideon and Job. While some finish up fully committed to the Lord, yet paying the ultimate price with their lives. Like most of Jesus’ apostles.

So, that good soil involves messy stuff like those Bible madcap eccentrics. Like you and me! Tossed out as abject failures. Full of regrets. Sinners, yet forgiven, thankfully. All the spoiled stuff of our lives can meld and blend together in the warmth of God’s Word into something useful for Jesus. Like compost.

I need this message. I’m sure there are others who do also. For when we keep reminding ourselves how horrible we’ve been, then Satan robs us of the joy of God’s forgiveness. When we get stuck in the past, not letting go of what God has forgiven, then we can’t effectively serve Him. Puts us on our back foot, off balance, and dizzy. Too much looking in the rearview mirror, missing what’s right in front of us, becoming useless soil.

I need to put His promises into action. Planted and rooted in the good soil of His Word. Where can I hear Him? You know. Your Bible. The true good earth. Time to plant?

Why not give Jesus our compost, the jumble and muddle of our lives? What we’ve mishandled and mismanaged. And watch what He makes of it. Surprising what good can come out of our seeming messes when given to Jesus. Give it a try. You’ll see! Want to?

Lord Jesus, thank you for placing me in the best place of all, right next to you. Amen.

I love reading 19th-century novels such as those authored by Dickens, Tolstoy, Eliot, Melville, Austen, and more. One recently recommended is entitled ‘Shirley’ by Charlotte Bronte. It’s proving to be a real page-turner. Bronte’s descriptive powers are breathtaking and sublime. Masterfully crafted language with nary a swear word, thankfully. Aren’t you tired of the smut oozing out of our current culture, which seems to lack any semblance of ‘culture’ whatsoever? When you think it can’t get any worse, it does.

But there’s nothing new about a decaying society. You know about the Old Testament book of Judges, where everyone does exactly what they themselves want to do regardless of God’s ways or will. They’re mad to defy and flaunt the Law of the Lord. Maybe it’s recreation or cheap entertainment for them. If they want to do something, they’ll do it. Defiant bigshots. See what I mean? There’s ‘nothing new under the sun’.

But what precedes the book of Judges offers some semblance of hope. The Israelite leader Joshua is tasked with the unenviable job of settling Israel into its twelve tribal land allotments. You can imagine the war-mongering going on from within and without. Battles rage yet victories outnumber defeats. Near the end of Joshua’s life, he challenges his people to choose whom they will serve–the One True God of Israel or the gods of neighboring nations? Decision day arrives.

As Yogi Berra says, ‘When you get to the fork in the road, take it!’ But Joshua offers a more decided choice. All roads don’t lead to Rome or Yogi’s home! You either follow the Lord or align yourself with pagan gods. Not ‘all of the above’ on God’s multiple choice test. Decide, already.

Knowing how wonderful Israel’s God has been to them, the miracles He performs, what kind of choice is that? Should be a no-brainer. Like rejecting everything to embrace nothing. As my Grandfather Fischer used to say: ‘Smart like your father, you dope you!’ So, who’s not playing with a full deck? Read the book of Judges to find out.

Many years ago, I chose to follow Jesus. To accept His offer of love and forgiveness. To be my Lord and Savior. How could I not? And then to make the Bible my life’s guidebook. Also to hang out with others who’ve chosen the same Lord and guide. Is that it? There must be more. Seems way too simple.

So, what does God require of us? There’s got to be a catch somewhere. Something that’s hidden in the fine print, which I can barely read? Too good to be true? Let’s check it out.

Hints can be found in the Old Testament Book of Joshua. ‘Therefore, be very strong to keep and to do all that is written in the Book of the Law of Moses, turning aside from it neither to the right hand nor to the left, that you may not mix with these nations remaining among you or make mention of the names of their gods…’ (Joshua 23:6-7). GPS is your Bible. God’s Positioning System! He’ll lead. We’ll follow.

More? ‘Be very careful, therefore, to love the Lord your God’ (Josh. 23:11). Something else? ‘…but you shall cling to the Lord your God…’ (Josh. 23:8).

As I read these verses, I understand that following the Lord Jesus is not tied up with rituals and rules. Of course, there are do’s and don’ts but not to hamstring us. He wants to help us. Giving us good guidance with ways to live a life that is for our best. Being in a loving relationship with us, as we freely choose to follow Jesus. Loving Him back. Clinging to the Lord. Hanging on to His every word. Not letting go. Does He ask too much of us? Does He?

Back to Charlotte Bronte–‘…it is felt that a pitying God watches what all mankind has forsaken; the tender compassion of Jesus is recalled and relied on. The faded eye, the gazing beyond Time, sees a Home, a Friend, a Refuge in Eternity’ (‘Shirley’).

I choose to rely on Jesus. To cling to my Friend who prepares a Home for me, a Refuge, a safe place, not only for a fleeting moment but forever. How could anyone turn their back on such promised good news?

Thank you, Jesus, for being my true forever Friend. Amen.