If trouble rears its ugly head at a wedding rehearsal, it’s usually from the bride or groom’s parents. Or some smarty-pants, know-it-all maid of honor, tossing her weight around trying to control what had already been discussed and decided. I dreaded those confrontations but had to step in, be firm, and protect the couple from what could become a disastrous wedding day.

Here in Matthew 25, some bridesmaids kick up their heels. You may know about the marriage customs in Jesus’ day, where the groom prepares a home for his future bride, usually an addition to his father’s house. The bridesmaids help the bride get ready for the big day. When all is ready, the groom sends his groomsmen out to start the procession of the bridesmaids and the bride and her family and friends to a huge, often weeklong, celebration at the groom’s parents’ home. Oy vey! The bill could choke a horse, already.

What the bridesmaids need most of all is some good old-fashioned advanced planning. To be ready for whenever the call comes to start the marriage parade. Be on their toes. Have adequate supplies no matter how long the wait takes.

But here’s the rub. Some grow weary with waiting. Slack off. Become lazy and neglectful. Mr. Sandman arrives before the groomsmen do.

Who knows the cause of the delay? Maybe the groom has changed his mind? Maybe some disaster has struck? Why this infernal foot-dragging? They nod off, worn out, tired as can be with woefully inadequate supplies.

But some bridesmaids have extra lamp oil in case the wait drags on. Others don’t, confident that they’ll have more than enough. And anyway, who cares? They can always beg some oil from those snooty, overly prepared ones. Maybe those organized bridesmaids strike the unglued and topsy-turvy ragtag ones as smug and self-righteous. If they’re such generous do-gooders, they’ll share a little with us, won’t they?–“And the foolish said to the wise, ‘Give us some of your oil, for our lamps are going out'” (Matt. 25:8).

But the wise bridesmaids say a resolute ‘no’. No can do! Some things you can’t share. Why not get your own for a change? Be ready as you’re supposed to be. But it’s later than they think. With shops not open at night, they miss out on the groomsmen calling to them to get hopping for the wedding. They’re left out in the dark cold. Too bad, so sad. What did they expect? They’re stuck with regrets and an opportunity that will never come their way again.

Such is faith. It can’t be given away. Nor inherited from some godly grandparents or that loving neighbor who took you to Sunday School. No DNA test to prove your spiritual ancestry and destiny. We don’t need it as we can have a wonderful relationship with Jesus by exercising our faith, turning away from sin and self-reliance, and leaning heavily on Jesus. No one can do that for you. But can’t you?

Nevertheless, we certainly should share our faith. Not shoving it down anyone’s throat. Or hitting them over the head. It’s up to them to respond. To act on what they hear and discover. We are responsible to others by sharing the faith, but we’re not accountable for their decisions.

Unfortunately, many have no idea that Jesus is there for them. Shouldn’t we tell them? He loves them and eagerly desires a personal relationship with each one. A secure place in God’s heart that can never be taken away. Or given back. Who’d want to, anyway?

Lord Jesus, help me to share your Good News with someone this week. For your sake and theirs. Amen.

I loved taking a shortcut to high school. Rushing out the side door of our family home, hot-footing it through a neighbor’s backyard, crisscrossing a nearby park, then bobbing and weaving various roads to the school’s back entrance. Saved a lot of time. Thought myself quite the clever boy! Who doesn’t like a shortcut?

Well, not always. Reading Psalm 136 you note something unique. All twenty-six verses have a refrain saying the same thing. Six words repeated over and over again. In the original Hebrew language, only three words say it all. Here goes in English–‘…for his steadfast love endures forever.’ Traversing the same ground twenty-six times.

Often when I’ve read this psalm, I’ve taken a shortcut. I read each verse’s opening part, skip over that ‘steadfast love’ business, and move quickly to the next verse. Saves a lot of time. I’ve got things to do and places to go. Do you think God minds?

You’re right. I think He does, too. After all, the Lord tells us repeatedly, in no uncertain terms, that He loves us. Eternally, with enduring care, through all the messes we make. And all the stuff that’s thrown at us. And I want to hippity-hop over all the love and care God has for me? Not such a clever boy after all!

For His love is steadfast. Hangs in there when everyone else has headed out our heart’s back door. Jesus is steady as can be. No fickle double-crossing two-timer. Never here today, gone tomorrow. His love is forever. He means it. I may or may not. But He does. Who doesn’t need to hear that over again and again? Just me?

Skip over it? Are you crazy? Wait a minute, it’s me that’s done the skippity-do-dah. Not you. Or have you? Glancing at your Bible for only a minute or two? Letting it gather dust while your smarty-phone remains dust-free? Worrying more than trusting Jesus? Forgetting to pray unless all else fails? Displaying little evidence to convict you of being one of His own? A functioning agnostic?

That sounds a bit harsh, doesn’t it? Well, that can happen when I take a shortcut like I have through Psalm 136. So, stop already. Take a gander at that phrase, those twenty-six times reminding us of His love that endures forever.

No more shortcuts for me while traveling the roads of this psalm. I’ve settled for less when He has much more to give me. And you. After all–‘…his steadfast love endures forever.’ Did I hear an echo?

Thank you, Jesus, for loving me so much. I love you. too. Amen.

In high school, I only had to read Charles Dickens’ novel ‘A Tale of Two Cities’. Now as an adult, I’ve read and reread all his novels. My favorite? ‘Bleak House’, where I gallop through over 850 pages, hoping the ending doesn’t come too soon.

Within those pages, I ran across this quote from one of the main characters, Esther Summerson. Her friend, Ada, wonders if Esther and Ada’s guardian, the owner of Bleak House, John Jarndice, could ever forgive Ada for some information hidden from both Esther and John. Here’s what Ada asks–‘Esther, will you forgive me? Will my cousin John forgive me?’ ‘My dear’ said I (Esther), ‘to doubt for a moment is to do him a great wrong.’ That’s when Esther’s comment made me grit my teeth coupled with a tinge of sadness.

God forgives me. Jesus went to the Cross to offer His life as a ransom for all my sins…past, present, and future. Each and every one of them. Throughout the Bible, the message of forgiveness is presented and promised. What else can God do?

Then again, what should we do? Hire a skywriter so we don’t forget? Ask God for a definite sign or two? Have some saint pin us down until we say ‘uncle’ admitting we’re forgiven? No. Get off myself for He’s done enough.

In the Old Testament book of Jeremiah, God says this–‘…for they shall all know me, from the least of them to the greatest, declares the Lord. For I will forgive their iniquity, and I will remember their sin no more’ (Jer. 31: 34). There it is. Believe it or not. This is not Ripley speaking. Rather the Word of God Himself.

To doubt Him and His Word must hurt Him. Wounds and pains Jesus. I don’t usually think of my doubts in those terms. Do you? But maybe we should. Have some consideration for the feelings of others, especially our God. Be careful of what we say. What we think. Words not spoken out loud that cut Him to the quick. Private curses that no one else can hear. Except God.

So, is it time to make nice with God? To take Him at His Word for a change? If so, you’ve got to know your Bible, where you read of His promises. Hear about Jesus and His myriad commitments, all of which He’ll keep. His Word is as good as gold. Even better.

To be honest, I’m not much of a role model. I have fears galore. Catastrophize at the drop of a hat, on pins and needles, coupled with jitters and fidgets. Sometimes, especially on some downer day, I wonder if God even likes me.

See, I have much growing up to do in my life with Jesus. I need more maturing. More beefing up of my trust in God. Settling down and relaxing by Jesus’ side, while blossoming a bit more for my Lord. But here’s what keeps me going–He’s not done with me. Or you. Thank God!

Consider yourself blessed. And forgiven if you have faith in Jesus. Not perfect as we’ll all fall flat on our faces. But then get right back up, looking into His face, and believe Him for He means every word He says. Pin your hopes on the Lord. Last but not least? No. First and foremost.

Lord Jesus, for forgiving me I am so thankful. Bless you. Amen.

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.

Two years into a pastorate I find myself in hot water. All you-know-what breaks loose. Opposition huddles behind closed doors for months. I’ve no idea that denominational leaders are drawn alongside those wanting good old me out the door, and the most remote exit at that. Rumors fill the air like blood-sucking mosquitos on a hot, humid summer evening. The handwriting is on the wall.

I’ll be the first to admit that not only the disgruntled few were to blame, but that I’ve put myself in the wrong denomination, one that’s meandered far from the Bible. Thought I could have an impact there for the Lord. Wrong. Instead, I allow myself to drift, while developing no relationships with higher-ups, who make those final church decisions. Thought I was saving time by not attending boring meetings. Talk…talk…talk. Wrong…wrong…wrong.

So when the fur hits the fan, my hide is bare. Nowhere and no one to turn to. I was done, done in, and done for. So, I decide to quit and do something different. Figuring that God is furious with me, I somehow garner the guts to ask for His help– ‘How about some undeserved miracle, God? Please. I’m begging’. And you know what? He hears me only because of His kindness and mercy.

In God’s time, doors and windows gradually open up. In addition to growing a financial planning career, God positions me to serve Him. Sure it felt like He’d given me a swift kick you-know-where; which, I’ll be the first to admit, would have been a much-deserved boot. Sadly, it takes that kind of exertion to move the likes of me. Out one door, now in another. Finally, gradually, like a snail running a race, I’m where I should have been all along. U-turns righted. Dead-end streets open up into highways and byways for Jesus.

In what ways? Let me explain. I’m welcomed into a weekly pastor’s Bible study where fellow clergy comfort, accept, and encourage me. A salve of friendship I needed more than they realized. Then the call is issued to be a pastor’s assistant in a neighboring Bible-believing church. I also enjoyed a 5-year run on a local television station, hosting a weekly 30-minute evangelism/testimony program called ‘Person-to-Person’. I sang lead in the Gospel quartet ‘Livin’ Harmony’, aptly named by our tenor/baritone Dave Seymour.

Then I pastor another church for 14 years, the longest tenure of any minister in their 125-year history. And it’s just around the corner from the one that gave me the old heave-ho. Do you think God doesn’t have a sense of humor? And offer second chances? Or third and fourth? Think again. All this while working full-time as a financial advisor for a large investment firm.

There’s more. Can you believe that I was chosen as the ‘Best Clergy on Twin Harbors’ by our county’s newspaper as voted by the readers and subscribers? Me? Little old me? No, I was not the only pastor in the county that year, but thanks for asking wiseguy! Also, for over a decade, I’ve been writing these weekly devotionals for readers checking in from over 60 countries on every continent, having published two daily devotional books for good measure. Upside down? Yes. Then, thank the Lord, right-side up!

It’s still true. What is? Nehemiah 13: 2–‘…but hired Balaam against them (Israel) to curse them–yet our God turned the curse into a blessing.’ And from Genesis 50: 20–“But Joseph said to them, ‘Do not fear…As for you, you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good, to bring it about that many people should be kept alive…'”

In my case, those few dissidents were wrong. But so was I. Even so, the Lord can turn the most difficult and disruptive situations into something closer to what He’s always wanted for me and you.

Today, if you are in a rough go or an uphill battle, turn to Jesus and pray. Wait on Him. Try to be patient, as best you can. And pray. Draw close to a few trusted Christian friends. And pray together. Hang in there with Jesus. When you think all the doors have been locked and shut, watch and see what God can and will do. If for me, then for anyone.

Get it? I’m still working on it. Still attending the school of Hard Knocks. Almost graduated. But not quite. By the way, I’m taking an advanced placement class entitled ‘Never Stop Praying. Never.’ Want to join me?

Thank you, Jesus, for being my best friend. Amen.

Have you read those few verses from Nehemiah yet? They’re amazing, aren’t they? It’s the story of a mass Bible study. Ezra and Nehemiah and a slew of trained Bible teachers fan out to instruct God’s people about the will and commands of the Lord. All the ten big ones and others are thrown in for good measure. The reaction? The people are floored. Shocked. Broken. Uncontrollably crying and grieving over their sins.

But those amazing Bible teachers don’t rub it in. Or add fuel to the fire. No adding insult to injury. Nor toss handfuls of salt in other’s wounds. Rather, they say this–“‘…do not mourn or weep’. For all the people wept as they heard the words of the Law…’Go your way. Eat the fat and drink sweet wine and send portions to anyone who has nothing ready. For this day is holy to our Lord. And do not be grieved, for the joy of the Lord is your strength’…And all the people went their way to eat and drink and to send portions and make great rejoicing, because they had understood the words that were declared to them” (Neh. 8: 9-12).

In other words, stop moping around. Cease constant looking in the rearview mirror of life. Trust your Lord. When He forgives, He does just that. Plus, He never marks the spot. Over and out. Kaput.

Take Him at His word for a change. Stop griping, already. Gaze forward with a big smile on your face. You’re forgiven. You’re loved. You’re free. Count on it. Not ‘it’. But on Jesus who loves to keep His Word with each of His own. That’s you, right? Me, too!

No doubt I’ll still look back once in a while, but unlike Lot’s wife who looked backward way too longingly, it’s time for me to laugh more and enjoy the life the Lord has given me. Good idea? You think?

Thank you, Lord Jesus, for your gift of new life. Amen.

When trouble comes my way, I try to work through it. Not run away and hide. Neither shove it under the rug nor bury my head in the sand. But many things don’t budge easily, taking their sweet time getting resolved. I admire those who patiently approach tough times with trust in the Lord. Praying without fail. Leaning solely on Jesus. Here I struggle.

I’d like to be more trusting of my Lord. Watching confidently for His plans to unfold in His time and way. That’s my wish and prayer, which means I wrestle with quite the contrary. Someone has said that if you want to hear God laugh tell Him your plans. If that’s so, I’m sure mine have given Him many robust belly laughs!

A few verses in Psalm 31 help me to relax. Put my slippers on and cuddle up a little closer, knowing He’s got my whole world in His hands. Want to join me? There’s room.

Psalm 31: 14-15–“But I trust in you, O Lord; I say, ‘You are my God.’ My times are in your hand.” As I’ve memorized these verses, I notice a mistake I keep making. I’m saying ‘…your hands.’ Not so in Psalm 31. Mentions just one hand.

Now, I need to use both. To lift a package. Wash and wax our car. Do some cooking and cleaning. Write and edit these weekly devotionals on the computer. Both hands are required.

But not with our Lord. Only one of His is more than enough. As if to say that God’s power is unlimited. Not mine or yours, but His. We’re kept safe, close to His heart, in the palm of His hand. Whatever comes my way, God can handle it. Even if He had one hand tied behind His back, so to speak! Piece of cake for Him.

Picture Jesus drawing alongside you, taking care of whatever problem gets you down, using His one hand and it’s done. These two verses are what I need today. So, I remind myself whose hand my tough times remain in. Again, not mine. Or yours. Nor anyone else’s. But in His.

You’ve got to hand it to Him. Why not do just that?

Lord Jesus, thank you for all your strength and care that helps me every moment. Amen.