Why is free food so tasty? Those samples passed out by a food truck advertising Oreos or whatever make me want even more complimentary goodies. Buy some? Maybe not. But more freebies, please! Let me meander the aisles of Costco, munching away on an endless variety of on-the-house edibles.

Reading Isaiah 55, a cloud of conviction hovers overhead. ‘Come, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters, and he who has no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price. Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread, and your labor for that which does not satisfy? Listen diligently to me, and eat what is good…’ (Is. 55: 1-2).

The Lord invites us to a feast consisting of what’s precious and pricey–water, milk, and wine. None of them were abundant in Bible times. Scarcity led to costliness. But in this Bible passage, the Lord invites us to share in the best of life, all for free. Can you imagine?

You’d think I’d spend more time, money, and energy on the good things of God, wouldn’t you? Never leaving His table of abundant blessings. Staying as close to Jesus as I can. Placing my feet firmly in His camp, refusing to be nudged or shoved off-center. You’d think.

But, sad to say, well, you know, I’ve been lax with the Lord. Wasting more time than I’d care to admit to. And He knows that I’ve been silent when I could have spoken up. Opened my big mouth when I should have been respectfully quiet. Mean-spirited when love was called for. Greedy in the face of someone else’s need which I could have helped with. Happy as a clam when somebody I didn’t like falters and suffers. He knows.

So, I need God’s water. Jesus’ milk and wine. Instead of imagining that I can earn any of that by my own efforts, I should stop wasting time, humbly fall at His feet, open my hands to Him, and let the Lord fill me with Himself. Don’t think for a moment that money or ritual will get you one extra tidbit from Him. No. Just faith in Jesus. A genuinely seeking and repentant heart. A trusting and believing soul.

Then get ready to be blessed galore, which is much better than free food and drink despite what most people think. Sometimes even me.

Thank you, Jesus, for all the blessings you freely give me every moment of every day. Amen.

I remember hearing an evangelist/Bible speaker admit that he had no idea what the book of Ezekiel was about and even wondered why God included it in the Bible. This prophetic book is one of the biggies of the Old Testament. And it’s dissed by someone who should have known better? Couldn’t believe my ears when he spouted off against good old Ezekiel.

For I’m intrigued by this book. The more I read it, the more I love it. How about you? Have you read it? Just a cursory glance or two? Then get out your water wings, we’re going for a swim (and I can’t swim!).

After many chapters in Ezekiel about the coming judgment, I’m stopped by three verses at the end of chapter 18. This section centers on the fair treatment of those who sin. This is not passing judgment as if it is inherited from father to son or son to father, but being judged only by what that particular individual does against God’s will.

I easily get bogged down with what I deserve from the Lord. Guilt hovers not far away after I’ve thumbed my nose at God. You see, I try to fool Him. Put one over on the Big Guy. Really? Are you sure? Actually, the wool is pulled over my eyes. Can’t ever hoodwink or dupe our Lord.

But you know what? Despite my playing games with God, He’s always there to comfort, forgive, hear my confessions, and note my tears. When exactly does this happen? When we come back to Him. Those times when we’re honestly sorry.

Hear Ezekiel 18–‘Therefore I will judge you…every one according to his ways, declares the Lord God. Repent and turn from all your transgressions, lest iniquity be your ruin. Cast away from you all the transgressions that you have committed, and make yourselves a new heart and a new spirit! Why will you die…? For I have no pleasure in the death of anyone, declares the Lord God; so turn, and live’ (vs.30-32).

Such passionate words from God’s heart to ours. He yearns for everyone to come back to Him. To be forgiven. Therefore, given a new heart and spirit from God Himself. Why not reach out to Him? To ask Him into your life? What have you got to lose? Really a lot I’m sure you’d like to get rid of!

I can imagine some evangelist preaching these verses. Hey, I just did! How about asking the Lord Jesus into your heart? He’s the hope that will never let you down. Never.

Lord Jesus, I want to be yours forever. I believe in you. Amen.

Today’s title is not referring to when I’m strapped into my dentist’s chair. With my mouth hanging wide open, this masked man, who holds a terrifying drill aimed at my sensitive teeth, seeks to prod, poke, puncture, and perforate my dental troubles. No, that’s not what I mean.

Rather, it’s when you feel somewhat blah and blue, down in the proverbial dumps. When life throws a curveball, and you feel like you’ve struck out more than Babe Ruth, know that such is life on this other side of Eden. It’s the human condition, starting with Adam and Eve and everyone else ever since.

After all, we live on a globe where sin permeates everything. A fallen world will trip us up rather easily, making us prone to feeling a tad down in the mouth. I fall into that trap, feeling sorry for myself. Overly sensitive to other’s unsavory comments, yet I’m possibly less so to others’ feelings as I, clueless, slice and dice with my razor-sharp humor.

But the Lord has good medicine for us. Where? Of course, in your Bible. For today not in the Psalms, the Gospels, or some very familiar verse, but tucked away in the Old Testament, in the book of Isaiah.

So, grab your Bible and turn to Isaiah 43: 4–‘Because you are precious in my eyes, and honored, and I love you…’ Only a few words–‘precious…honored…loved.’ That should lift your day, shouldn’t it? Did mine.

Better than winning the lottery? Most wouldn’t think so. But, oy vey, what I’ve heard about the fate of unlucky-in-life lottery winners. Usually not good but, of course, I’d be different. I could handle all the begging from friends, family, and strangers. You think so, Fischer? Hmm. Maybe not. But you’ll never know since I’ve never bought one measly sweepstake lotto ticket with no intention of starting any time soon.

So hear God’s Word. He means what He says. Every jot and tittle. Chew on and digest each word and thought. It comes from Our Lord God to you and me. When downtimes hit, and they will, why not hit back with Isaiah 43: 4–‘Because you are precious in my eyes, and honored, and I love you…’ Again–precious…honored…loved.’

Get it? Then use it as a weapon, fighting back those inevitable blahs and blues. Keep repeating it until it sinks in. Try it on for size. You look great! You’ll like being precious and honored and loved. I do!

Thank you, Lord, for how good you are to me. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

The Old Testament book of Ezekiel contains strange images, displaying disturbing, peculiar, and puzzling prophetic utterances from the Lord. Many people recoil at having anything to do with Ezekiel’s book. Not me. It’s in my Bible, for a reason, and I’m up for whatever weird and spooky images God chooses to convey His message. Bring it on, Lord!

If you’ve read Ezekiel 5, you know what I’m talking about. Our prophet is told to cut off the hair on his head along with all of his beard. In those days, religious types are supposed to grow their hair long (Lev. 21:5). Then Ezekial is told to weigh and divide the shaven follicles. Take one-third and burn them. Then he’s to scatter the next third around the city, striking those hairy bits with a sword. Hope he has a steady hand! Finally, the remaining locks and curls should be tossed to the wind.

What gives? I scratch my head until I realize that these are symbolic acts, signifying God’s judgment on His rebellious and unrepentant people, which should produce terror in their hearts and minds as it would in mine. Hope disappears. All lost. Cut and shaved. Tossed aloft into the sirocco-like winds. Doomsday is just around the corner.

Please don’t skip over a rather short verse in Chapter 5. As in this one–‘And you shall take from these a small number and bind them in the skirts of your robe’ (Ez. 5: 3). I’m not sure that we all get the point of this verse. I had to do some digging myself. Here’s what I found–Ezekiel is told to hide some of those shaved-off clippings in the folds of his outer garment, his robe. Kept safe from fire, sword, and wind. Tucked in. Safe and secure from all alarms.

Even when all hell seems to break loose, God takes care of His own. Either in this life or surely in the next. Folded, gathered, and pleated. Stored and securely stashed away. These are God’s remnant people, who count on Him alone for their help and care. They find themselves safe in His back pocket, so to speak.

My father kept a 1922 US silver dollar in his wallet in his back pocket (when those large dollar coins mainly contained silver). He said it reminded him to keep some extra money aside for an emergency. He was a good saver. And he urged me to do the same. This is one of the lessons I learned from my Dad. To tuck something away for unexpected troubles.

In a similar vein, the Lord Jesus makes sure that His own are shielded and guarded. Kept in His back pocket. Even more precious than silver and gold. Close by. Within reach. Only a hop, skip, and a jump away. Always on His mind. Embedded with His kindness and care.

This week, when you feel scared or all alone, remember that He keeps you in His neighborhood. He wants to reassure you that all will be well in the folds of His robes, protected from harm, sheltered in His love.

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

Usually, it takes only an occasional reassuring word to lift my day. An encouraging e-mail thanking me for what I’ve written. I don’t get tons of feedback from readers. A good thing? Could be. Keeps me grounded and off my high horse! Anyway, I don’t need ego-boosting backslapping.

I know the Lord wants me to keep at it. ‘Write for me’ was what I heard inaudibly, in the back of my mind, driving across the great state of Texas in early 2014, just weeks after retiring from my last church. Though different from what I had been doing, the Lord had more for me to do. As in what you’re reading right now!

But on rare occasions, my confidence flags and withers. I ask myself, ‘Does anyone really care?. ‘All for nothing?’ Maybe I just thought I’d heard from the Lord. Or was it too much TexMex food eaten at a waterfront restaurant along the Riverwalk in San Antonio? That yummy bean-laden grub can back up on me something fierce.

Here’s a most uplifting verse from the Bible–‘For the Lord takes pleasure in his people; he adorns the humble with salvation’ (Ps. 149:4). Those words were like a tall glass of ice-cold lemonade on a blistering hot and humid Texas day!

Those few words, easily memorized even by me, tell us that our Lord not only likes us but takes pleasure in knowing us, and having a relationship with you and me. Is that even possible? Really? Truly!

Usually, I don’t like to get technical in these weekly devotionals, sounding scholastic and heady, certainly less than humble, but I’ll break my rule this time. In the original Hebrew language, the phrase ‘takes pleasure’ is a participle, which is a verbal adjective. In English, participles usually have an ‘…ing’ ending. Unpacking this gobbledygook grammar lesson, we uncover that God’s enjoyment of you and me is continuous, and enduring, not just a mere infatuation or a momentary fling, but something that lasts and lasts. Living and lasting. Persevering. Continuing. Persisting. Going on and on.

We’re favored by Him. Well-pleasing to our God. Around the clock, day and night, God is taking pleasure in His own.

What about this being humble bit? It doesn’t mean being some bully’s doormat. Quite the contrary. It involves knocking, asking, and seeking Jesus (check out Luke 11: 9-10). In other words, humility means not thinking that we’re so high and mighty that we can handle anything and everything that comes our way all on our own. No. We need His help. His guidance. His forgiveness. His salvation which comes from believing in Jesus. Not what we can do for God, but what He’s already done for us in Jesus. That’s what humility looks more like.

This short verse should find a home in our hearts and minds this week, to be better prepared with the truth of God’s Word countering nasty things that inevitably find us in a weak moment.

Let’s memorize Psalm 149: 4–‘For the Lord takes pleasure in his people; he adorns the humble with salvation.’

For your encouraging words, Lord Jesus, I thank you. All for your sake. Amen.

I’m not thrilled about this new online ‘My Chart’ medical stuff. You know it? Where you can eyeball results before you check them out with your real-life, in-person doctor. They claim it’s all about full disclosure and immediate access. All of which are of no help to me, a novice with an untrained eye, who can barely pronounce those medical mysteries let alone know what they mean.

A few years back, I had blood work done. Hoping to put off checking out its results until I have a Zoom appointment with the sawbones, the nagging unknown gets the best of me. Something like the bit about fools rushing in? You think? Probably. So, I yield to temptation and see that the results are good. Pleased as punch, I tell my wife and prayer partners the good news. Of course, thanking the Lord for His answered prayers.

You know what’s coming next, don’t you? Zoom time with who I thought was Dr. Feelgood reveals that he’s more like Dr. Kavorkian as the numbers aren’t neutral but heading somewhat in the wrong direction. Yuck! He tells me not to lose any sleep. Yeah, right! Easy for him to say, he’s probably off on some mega-bucks vacation with the financial results of my computer call.

I panic. Tell my wife that I’m checking out of this life. Contact the funeral home. Don’t buy green bananas. Blood pressure reaches a new record high. The Lord? Have I forgotten Him? Maybe. Seems like it.

So, I call a Christian friend to get things off my chest, mostly exhibiting my lack of faith. What a man of unbelief I can easily become. Without any effort at all. Not even lifting a finger.

This friend reminds me that Jesus loves it when we bring our weakness to Him. Our feebleness and fragility allow His strength to comfort and help us. To be the friend that He is and always will be. Maybe we can buy those green bananas after all?

Listen to the Apostle Paul–‘Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. for when I am weak, then I am strong’ (2 Cor. 12: 9-10). I keep reading those verses as it takes a while to soak into my hard-shell craw while trying to crowd out my nail-biting fidgets.

Here’s my take from 2 Corinthians 12–Fischer, stop worrying so much. Bring everything to Jesus. Sooner rather than my usual later. Place them at His feet and walk away. Cease grabbing them back. Jesus has a no-backsies policy. No return to sender allowed. Leave it with Him.

I am weak but He is strong. Jesus loves me, this I know. The old song gets it spot on. Maybe it’s time I listened and started believing? You think? That’s a novel idea. Here’s another one–check out ‘His Chart’ instead of ‘My Chart’. Crack open your Bible more often than not. His good news is just that.

Have all my fears miraculously vanished? I wish. You’d believe me if I said they had? You’re too smart for that. However, I’m inching my way toward the one who can handle those headaches and heartaches all the while He’s holding my trembling hands. He doesn’t criticize me or you for being weak and scared. Hardly. He draws even closer, especially then.

Trust Jesus. That’s it?

Thank you, Lord Jesus, for being so close to me with all your loving understanding. Amen.

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.