My brother gave me two audio CDs of the great Italian tenor Enrico Caruso. The original recordings were made between 1902 and 1920 with the newest soundtrack over 100 years old. My Grandfather Fischer was a great fan of the maestro Caruso. How can these primitive recordings be any good? The plastic case they’re kept in says they’ve been newly remastered. Background noise is muffled, clearing up scratchy sounds and producing amazing quality after removing old technology imperfections.

That’s similar to what happens when we put our faith and trust in Jesus Christ for all He’s done on the Cross for us. When we want to be His. No more fence-straddling. Now in Christ. As St. Paul says–‘…if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come. All this is from God… (5: 17-18). In Christ, something unaccustomed and wonderfully strange happens within us. Somewhat unexplainable yet we sense its source. We’re now ‘in Christ’.

I remember listening to Billy Graham on the radio over 60 years ago. Yes, we had radio! Even TV! I’m unsure what the evangelist’s exact words were, but whatever they were they hit home. I remember that when he asked if someone listening wanted God in their lives, to experience Jesus’ love and forgiveness, my heart skipped a beat or two, and my hand shot up in the air, so to speak. I signed on the dotted line that Sunday evening. Jesus accepted me and He’s never let me go, even though I’ve given Him too many reasons why He should have. He still holds me in the palm of His hand.

The newness Jesus implants in us is a growing experience. Baby steps start us out. It takes time. In my case, two steps forward, one back. Nevertheless, I’m trending His way more and more. Don’t be too hard on yourself when you sense the old raising its ugly head more than you’d like. This happens even when we have the best of intentions. But whatever sin grabs us, get right back with your Lord. ‘Fess up. Ask His forgiveness which He’s more willing to give than we are to ask. You’re new in Christ. Live like that for a change.

What’s happening? We’re being remastered by the Master!

Thank you, Jesus, for a new life in you. Amen.

The older I get the harder it is to focus on something for very long. What was that story about in the last book I read? Or who was the murderer on that TV show we watched so long ago, as in all of last night? Or the point of last week’s devotional? I scratch my head. Wondering if I’m losing it. No nasty and hasty comments, please. You’re probably not far behind. What’s your name again?!

But the Bible gives us the focal point. That heart and hub. Who to key in on. When to knuckle down instead of being a scatterbrained knucklehead! Oh, by the way, I’ve found some help in the Bible. Where was that? In what book? Old or New Testament? Have I wandered off again?

No, I’ve found it–‘…looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God’ (Heb. 12: 2).

Here’s the deal. When fears torpedo you with cold creeps and fidgety jitters, look to Jesus. He’s your Lord, who loves you like no one else ever has or will. Hang your hat on His peg. Look no further. Mull over those words from the book of Hebrews–‘…looking to Jesus…’ And hang on for dear life.

When you do, note that your trust level rises—at least some—and that your confidence in Jesus pushes anxiety a tad closer to the edge.

When I’ve been in hospital settings or with doctors and specialists, giving blood or enduring claustrophobic scans, what keeps my skin from crawling off of me is repeating this verse from the Old Testament–‘Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on thee because he trusts in thee’ (Is. 26: 3). God’s Word comforts me. It’s become a part of me.

Here’s another for good measure–‘Come to me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light’ (Matt. 11: 28-30). Draw close to whom? Focus already! Yes, to Jesus.

The church where I’ve been blessed to be their emeritus pastor ends each worship service singing–‘Turn your eyes upon Jesus, look full In His wonderful face. And the things of earth will grow strangely dim, in the light of His glory and grace’.

They’ve got it right. So, bear down, keep your eye on the ball, stay the course, and zero in on Jesus. For a change, let persistent distractions take a back seat. Even better, lock them away in the trunk.

Lord Jesus, thank you for always being there for me. Amen.

I’m a card-carrying member of AAA. No, not Alcoholics Anonymous but the American Automobile Association! I’m also sought after by many groups to become one of their members. An online retail seller is always after us to join them…for a price. The Cremation Society is hot on my trail, which burns me up! Today the Neptune Society sent me a similar invitation. Neptune? Pagan Roman water god? What are they offering? Burial at sea? And I can’t even swim! I’m putting them both off as long as possible!

Joining most of these groups requires little commitment except for something in the fine print about shekels and gelt. When it comes to Jesus, there’s much more involved in membership. More than your money. More than toting a card around. Much more than signing on the dotted line.

When you’re in Christ, you and Jesus become partners. In effect, a marriage occurs. We become the Bride of Christ. Part of His body. Through His Holy Spirit, and by faith alone, Jesus inhabits us. A oneness occurs similar to when a man and a woman marry, and they are no longer two but one.

Okay, signing on the dotted line happens on their marriage license for the local authorities. But if the couple exhibits maturity, they know, or soon will, that their relationship is far more complex than using a pen to sign some legal document following a few ‘I do’s’ and ‘I will’s’.

The more I get into my Bible, the more my thinking changes. Less about good old me, I, and myself. An unholy trinity. For I’m becoming increasingly sensitive to what Jesus wants. That WWJD wrist bracelet I used to wear didn’t mean ‘what would John do’. Much to my disappointment. It’s about Jesus and what He wants. Why does it take hard knocks to get that message into my craw that His way is for the best, no matter what? Resistance is just plain dumb.

Something else I note. I’ve been writing stories since I was 8 years old. I have some of those early beauties tucked away in a lower drawer of an old desk, burrowed far out of sight in our garage as these gems are rather kid’s stuff. Like that mystery story entitled ‘The Mystery of the Dope’. No, it’s not autobiographical but about drugs, smartypants! What do you expect from someone that age?

But now, a few years older (!), I don’t spend my time penning childish tales but rather what grabs me about my Lord Jesus. Bite-sized messages that I publish weekly to be of help. Using the gifts God has given me for Him, and for others. For you.

Not to make money. Actually, it’s been quite the contrary. And not for bragging rights, being the only one in my family to have written and published a book or two. But for Him and His own. To make a difference in Jesus’ Kingdom while I inhabit this earth before I ‘shuffle off this mortal coil’ (‘Hamlet’ by W. Shakespeare).

That’s some of what being a member of the Body of Christ means. Figure out your part. Function well in His body. Whatever that is, don’t say you’ll do it, do it!

Give your best for the Lord Jesus.

Lord Jesus, thank you for giving me much to do for you. What an honor. Amen.

We landed at Seattle’s SeaTac airport, having flown in from Florida. We’ve been to the Sunshine State numerous times, mainly seeing family while enjoying theme parks and other attractions thrown in for good measure. This time Florida’s weather was cold and wet. Could have had that at home in the Pacific Northwest. So, we’re glad to land safe and sound. Home again. Wet and cold.

A family, that appeared to be Eastern European, was also in a van taking us to where our cars were parked. My ears perked up as they spoke to each other. I had taken the Russian language at a local community college years before for no particular reason other than to learn another language. I wanted to hear if I recognized any of their words, which I did.

Yes, they spoke Russian. I wanted to say something in their language before we drove off. Putting our luggage into our car, I waved to the husband and said loudly ‘Do svidaniya’, ‘goodbye’ in Russian. My, oh my, the smile on his face.

Hearing your own language when unexpected is precious. A bit of home far from home. Also, it was uttered by an obvious American whose inflection probably needed lots more work yet who bothered to connect with a stranger using their mother tongue.

This experience makes me think of what Jesus says in John 10–‘I am the good shepherd. I know my own and my own know me…I have other sheep that are not of this fold. I must bring them also, and they will listen to my voice. So, there will be one flock, one shepherd’ (vs.14, 16).

His voice. In our hearing. In His presence. With complete understanding. One flock that’s eager to hear from its Shepherd. Even better, our Lord’s voice. Won’t that be something? What we’ve prayed for. What we’d hoped to catch. His voice. His say. Any tidbit from His mouth. Hanging onto His every word. That will be heaven for me.

But why wait? Don’t put off hearing from Him right where you are. Really? Of course. You know. Echoes of Paradise’s Savior can be heard from your Bible. His voice 24/7, 365. Even during this leap year!

Lend your ear and then watch the smile on His face!

Thank you, Lord Jesus, for all you want to say to me today in your Word. Amen.

I read about a corporate executive who starts his workday with 15 minutes of meditation about what he’s grateful for. Being thankful starts his day off on the right foot.

Sounds much like what the Apostle Paul prescribes for Ephesian believers–‘…giving thanks always and for everything to God the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ…’ (Eph. 5:20). That’s better than that corporate titan’s habit. Thanking God in Jesus’ name. But not only for a few minutes early in the day but ‘always’. And for ‘everything.’ How are you doing with that?

And me? I’d rather focus on you. It makes me feel better. But I know that pointing a finger at someone else leaves three appendages aiming right back in my face with the thumb raised upwards reminding me that God knows what I’m up to.

The catch comes with that little word ‘always’. Throw in ‘everything’ for good measure. It’s easy to thank the Lord for blessings, such as a tax refund or a better medical report than feared or imagined. Easy-peasy. A quick word of thanks ascends heavenward from my lips to God’s ears.

But…well, you know. When the nasty hits. That unexpected conking out of our fairly new refrigerator. The rejection notice for something I’d written that was such a gem; but, as it turns out, only in my mind. Want to add some of your own?

Give thanks for everything? I’m not sure how that works out in real-life situations. Not everything that happens is such a great deal. Premature death? An adult child who wants nothing more to do with you or the Lord? Divorce? Wars and rumors of wars? Devastating hurricanes? Politics gone haywire? Even in all of them? That’s what the Apostle says. And he should know.

Here’s a warning. If tragedy hits someone else, be cautious with what you say. Instead of throwing pious platitudes in their faces, shut up. That’s right, keep quiet. Listen. Sit close by. Bring over a meal. Share a cup of coffee. And while you’re at it, shut your face! Hard to do, when I have all the answers…for someone else. But don’t you dare pull that Christian know-it-all act on me.

Anything else? What should I do? Simply put, get into your ‘room’ (check out Matthew 6: 6) and thank the Lord for whatever. Develop a habit of thanksgiving as hard as that can be. Not just one day a year; but, as the Apostle Paul says, ‘always’ and for ‘everything’. Usually, be very private with this. But never stop telling Jesus how grateful you are for all He gives you, even through tough and rough times. Especially then. That’s when you’ll see how you’re doing. Me too.

Thank you, Jesus, for all the love you show me every moment of every day. Amen.

Think of your emotions as a barrel. Whatever size you want to imagine. Now take a dreamed-up hose, turn it on full blast, and fill the container to the brim. Then grab a gallon of water and start pouring it in. What happens? Duh! Liquid overflows. All over the place. You’ve exceeded the limit.

What in the world does this have to do with today’s devotional? Has Fischer lost it as we’ve long suspected? No, wisenheimer! I’m thinking about emotions. Our feelings. The ones that get raw and frazzled with worries and fear. You know as well as I do that there’s only so much room within us before cracks appear, leaks ooze out, seams burst, and we fall apart.

Likewise, there’s only so much emotional space for fear and faith. So, fill up your tank with premium unleaded faith. I know. Easier said than done. I’m as clutched by jitters and fidgets, on pins and needles, as the rest. I have nothing good to share? No encouragement? Actually, I do.

These two Bible verses prescribe great medicine to warm cold shivers, leveling out those goosebumps. Psalms 55: 22–‘Cast your burden on the Lord, and he will sustain you…’ Then 1 Peter 5: 7–‘…casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you.’ God’s promises from both the Old and New Testaments. They’re still good today. His promises made are promises kept.

Casting off worries means filling your mind with godly thoughts, and pushing others over the edge. Prayer for a starter and finisher. Tell Jesus everything. Sure, butterfly feelings and indigestion will linger but something else starts to take hold. A realization that I’m not alone. That Jesus goes with me no matter what. And that He’ll never leave me.

The worst that can happen to me as a believer is my appointment with the Grim Reaper, but I go immediately to be with my Lord in glory forever. Never another fear. Never another worry. Don’t even need faith. Pretty good, wouldn’t you agree? Time to give fear the old heave-ho?

This week let’s pray more than stew. Talk with Jesus more than torment ourselves with life’s stage fright, causing you to freeze up in front of whatever audience that gives you the heeby-jeebies. Let God have whatever for a change. He handles them much better.

Teacher may only grade me with a C-plus but at least I’m trying. And God loves whatever effort we make His way.

Thank you, Jesus, for being my constant companion. Amen.

A while back our car battery conks out. A little sputtering only a faint response. No engine starting. We’re downtown in a German-themed resort village about four hours from home, it’s nighttime, cold as cold can be, with take-out food not getting any warmer, wondering how long it will take AAA to bail us out. Help! I’ll get back to what happens in a moment.

Reading Jesus’ parable about the Good Samaritan (Luke 10), I can identify with the beat-up man. But my dilemma is nothing like his. He’s bunged up and bloody, mugged and ripped off, and left by the side of the road as good as dead with no phone or police patrolling to help.

However, two promising blokes amble by, a priest and priestly helper, called a Levite. Surely, they’ll lift a finger. Don’t you think? Wrong! Not even a little pinky. Even worse they cross over to the other side of the road ignoring him completely. Anyway, they’re too busy for the Lord. Who has time to waste on what could be a dangerous trap? And they have a paycheck to earn. Families to support. Worshippers to comfort. Cut them some slack? Sorry, Charlie! Not in this story.

Who does help? Well, you know. That unlikely chap, a Samaritan. One from an unfriendly sect in ancient Israel. Jews and Samaritans ignore each other at best. But in Jesus’ story, help comes from that far-fetched source. This broken-down bloke must have thought his eyes were playing tricks on him. A Samaritan? Helping me, a Jew? Oy veh! How weird is that? Yet, there it is.

Back to my dead-as-a-doornail battery. When I leave my car to raise the hood, a young man comes toward me, holding a contraption that can start a dead battery in about three minutes. All on this gadget’s own power. Really? How? Who cares? He hooks up the cables to the battery terminals and within a couple of minutes, my car is running, which soon will cost me $200 for a new battery. Again, who cares? We’re fired up, ready to enjoy a still-warm Mexican meal which probably should have been Wienerschnitzel and sauerkraut! Ja voll!

So, don’t be thunderstruck when the Lord surprises you in unexpected places with mindblowing helpers. Or that Jesus might place you as an unanticipated helping hand to somebody in need, especially someone you don’t immediately gel with. Yes Lord, use me. You too?

And thanks for once again answering my prayers for HELP!

Gracious Lord Jesus, thank you for always being my good helper. Amen.

Everyone fears playing hide-and-seek when you hide and no one seeks. Almost broadcasting that it’s just fine with everyone else if you’re not found. Not nice! I don’t remember that ever happening to me or others playing that game growing up in our Millburn, New Jersey neighborhood.

I liked everyone on our block. No bullies. No violence. Not much in the way of one-upmanship. Just kids flourishing in a nice middle-class section of a suburban town. I have wonderful memories of where I grew up, and I am still in contact with a few over sixty years later.

Looking at Jesus’ hide-and-seek parables in Luke 15, I note what’s been gone missing. The lost sheep, the lost coin, and the lost son. All are valuable. A sheep represents work and livelihood. The coin is part of the savings of this woman, who lives in jeopardy if she runs short of cash. The most valuable would have to be the father’s son, who dies to his family by rejecting them, grabbing an early inheritance, and squandering all he can as fast as he can in some god-forsaken land. Those are what’s hidden.

Who does the seeking in these stories? The shepherd, the woman, and the father. All symbolize God, who hunts high and low to find His lost. I remember asking Jesus into my life one Sunday evening in that same New Jersey town I called home. No flowery prayer. Certainly, no bargaining with God to get more out of Him. Just a simple ‘yes’ to Jesus’ invitation.

Immediately, I began reading my Bible and attending church faithfully, and I discovered that His seeking me preceded my welcoming Him into my life. He reached out to me first and foremost. He took the first step. Not the other way around.

Here are some Bible verses that say the same. “For thus says the Lord God: ‘Behold, I, I myself will search for my sheep and will seek them out’ (Ezekiel 34:11). ‘” Here’s a favorite of mine–‘If a man has a hundred sheep, and one of them has gone astray, does he not leave the ninety-nine on the mountains and go in search of the one that went astray?’ (Matthew 18: 12). And these words–‘For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost’ (Luke 19: 10). Finally, Jesus says this–‘You did not choose me, but I chose you…’ (John 15: 16).

So, keep praying for lost ones among your family and friends. Never stop. The Lord doesn’t. His seeking them is relentless. He aims to find those who will be forgiven and renewed. I wonder who prayed for me long before that Sunday evening when I first started my walk with Jesus? The ball was pitched my way long before I caught it.

This week let’s keep praying for those you love to open the door of their hearts to God’s loving call and invitation. He seeks the lost so they will be found. He keeps on knocking.

Thank you, Jesus, for seeking me and finding me. Amen.

Most of the time, I see life through humorous glasses. I try not to make funny comments about others but aim at myself, which takes off some of the edge. But once in a while…well, you know.

In my first church, where I served as assistant pastor and was responsible for youth ministry, I was leading the early teen group, where we were studying Jesus’ words in Luke 12. You remember that that’s where Jesus reassures us that God knows every last detail of our lives, even the exact number of hairs on our heads.

For some reason, I focus on one teen while reading what Jesus says. Her hairstyle is different. It looks a tad strange unlike any other in the group.

We read that our Savior says there’s nothing God doesn’t know, even the exact quantity of hairs on our heads. So don’t fret or fear. Trust in Jesus. He’s got it. Even the small stuff. Especially that. All was said with my trademark tinge of humor. Or so I thought. I’m so clever, aren’t I? Not always and far less than I’d hoped.

The next day this teen’s mother calls me to tell me that her daughter had a childhood disease that’s caused all her hair to fall out and never to grow back. That unstylish hairstyle was a wig. Did I know that? Obviously not. However, her Mom was not a happy camper. Rightfully so. I’m floored with embarrassment. An apology was immediately given. All was forgiven. Yet I’ve never forgotten how insensitive I can be, even in total ignorance.

We can easily stomp over other’s feelings having no idea what’s happened. I can’t count the times I’ve cracked open my big fat trap getting me into bigtime trouble. Those are the ones I’m aware of. How about the rest? Perish the thought.

This makes me think of what Jesus’ half-brother James writes–‘How great a forest is set ablaze by such a small fire! And the tongue is a fire, a world of unrighteousness. The tongue is set among our members, staining the whole body, setting on fire the entire course of life, and set on fire by hell…From the same mouth come blessing and cursing. My brothers, these things ought not to be so’ (James 3: 5-6, 10). Fire…stained bodies…cursing…hell. Oy vay, I’ve been such a schmedrik and schlemiel!

These are no joking matters. So, what’s James’ point? It’s obvious, isn’t it? Watch what I say. Be sensitive. Quick to apologize. But not becoming hamstrung, overly self-conscious, yet maybe a tad more careful wouldn’t hurt. You think? Ears wide open, mouth not as much, knowing we’re human, treading where even angels don’t, making mistakes at the best of times.

Be me? To be honest, I see life through amusing and zany eyes. However, I pray for God’s sensitivity to come my way more often. To be a bit cautious. Try to check other’s reactions. And yet, cut myself some slack that, unlike God, I don’t know every last detail that will wind up hurting someone else.

This applies only to me? That would be funny if it were only true.

Thank you, Jesus, for forgiving my insensitive blabberings. Amen.

As much as I’d like it to be one or the other, I’m to aim at both. Okay, what am I talking about? Or don’t I have a clue and maybe I just like to hear myself talk? Be kind and let me explain.

Reading Luke chapter 10 in the New Testament, we encounter two amazing stories. The first is about the decent and caring Samaritan, the only one who lifts a finger to help some beat-up guy left by the roadside. Even the religious high mucky-mucks cross to the other side to avoid troubling themselves.

Immediately following this parable is Jesus’ and His follower’s visit with friend Martha, who rags on Him for allowing her sister Mary to leisurely sit at Jesus’ feet, cool as a cucumber, taking a breather, kicking off her sandals, without a care in the world, soaking in all the wisdom that Jesus has to offer while Martha slaves away in the kitchen, fuming over the next-to-nothing help she snags while working her fingers to the bone getting ready to feed this starving mob who seemingly won’t lift a finger to help her. I’m exhausted, along with Martha, with this run-on sentence!

Leaving bent out-of-shape Martha for the moment, the Samaritan story is about caring for some needy person, even going out of your way to lend a helping hand. And who’s the one doing this good deed in Jesus’ story? A Samaritan. Uh oh. Jesus chooses such a poor example. What was He thinking? After all, a Samaritan? There must be a better choice. He blows it this time. Or does He?

You know how the ancient Israelites and Samaritans got along, don’t you? Hardly at all, to put it mildly. In the Republic of Ireland, we rode on a jaunting cart through a lovely city park in Killarney. The driver, an Irishman with obvious funnybone, asked me the last names of my immigrant Irish family members. I tell him but notice a scowl on his face. Since my mother’s family is from Northern Ireland, the cart driver puts two and two together and announces that I’m starting the ‘Troubles’ all over again with names like Gibson, Moore, and Preston! We laugh but resentment lies close to the surface on that divided Emerald Isle. Similarly, referring to a ‘Good Samaritan’ offends Jesus’ people. Yet the point remains–get busy helping people even those we wonder about or don’t like.

How about that Martha/Mary spat? Well, it’s as plain as the nose, ample as it may be, on my face! I love Martha-types. Busy people. Hard-working. Dependable and reliable. Who keep their word. Promises made, promises kept. AOK–action-oriented types.

However, that’s not all. Following Jesus involves worshipping Him. Relaxing at His feet, eager to hear whatever He says, soaking in His wisdom, taking in all you can, never letting your Bible gather dust.

But then we must put what we learn into action. Not being good for goodness sake. But for Him. It’s a delicate balancing act. We often err on one side or the other. I do.

So, let’s try to get it both ways. Love the Lord your God and help others. I know that it’s much easier said than done. I don’t even like writing this. But it’s in the Bible. If God says it, that’s settled. It’s so. Enough, already!

Adore your Savior. Encourage someone in need. A good plan for this week? You think? Let’s give it more than the good old college try. Much more.

Lord Jesus, I love you and want to serve you. For your sake. Amen.