Nehemiah, a faithful cupbearer to the Persian king, lived with a broken heart for a city he had not seen in years. Yet, he could not hide his grief when in the presence of King Artaxerxes—a breach of palace etiquette that could cost him his life. His sadness led to a surprising moment: the king took notice. But before speaking, Nehemiah whispered a quick, instinctive prayer. His life had been shaped by prayer, and in this critical second, he drew upon that deep well of communion with God.

Ezekiel 33 marks a pivot in the book—from judgment to the hope of restoration. The Lord renews Ezekiel’s role as a watchman, this time not just as a private charge, but a public responsibility. The metaphor is clear: if the watchman warns of danger and the people ignore it, their destruction is their own doing. But if the watchman remains silent and the people perish, their blood is on his hands.

Elihu continues his speeches in Job 35 by redirecting the focus from human fairness to divine transcendence. He addresses Job's complaint that righteousness seems to have no benefit when suffering still arrives. Elihu doesn’t dismiss Job’s integrity—but he points out a flawed conclusion. He lifts Job’s eyes upward to the heavens, inviting him (and us) to consider how infinitely beyond us God truly is. Our good behavior doesn’t manipulate God; our sins don’t diminish Him. He is not swayed by leverage, like a human would be. We do not live rightly to get a reward but because it reflects the order and beauty of the One we are united with. In this, Elihu actually affirms something Job modeled with his life, though his words started to waver.

Every believer on the journey toward maturity will one day reach a crossroads: continue striving in self-effort, or surrender fully to the indwelling Christ. For many, the concept of Christ as our very life is unfamiliar or remains theoretical. But for those who have tasted the futility of self-life and come to the end of themselves, the invitation to the exchanged life becomes not only appealing but essential.

E. Stanley Jones points us to a vital truth—when we focus on Christ, we are not diminishing God, but glorifying Him. Unlike human philosophies that allow us to mold God into an image of our liking, Jones reminds us that God has chosen to reveal Himself fully and finally through Jesus. To know Jesus is to know God, and the more we center our lives on Christ, the clearer God becomes to us—not blurred or crowded out, but glorified in brilliance. In contrast, focusing on abstract ideas of God apart from Jesus tends to lead not to divine revelation but to humanism, where God is lost in speculation and self-effort.

In today’s devotional, Ray Stedman unpacks the meaning behind the “fellowship offering” in Leviticus 3:1, which he clarifies is better understood as the peace offering. This isn’t about the peace that comes from being forgiven—peace withGod—that comes later through the sin and trespass offerings. No, this is something much more personal and daily: the peace of God.

A.B. Simpson’s devotional urges us to stop approaching God as though we’re still waiting for Him to act. Instead, we’re to live as if He already has—because in Christ, He has. Simpson draws a parallel between a bride stepping into her new identity the moment vows are spoken, and the believer who steps into the fullness of Christ’s roles the moment they receive Him.

A.B. Simpson offers a picture of faith not as a wishful hoping but as a settled trust—a posture of spiritual confidence. To believe God for something means to relate to Him as if it is already ours because He has already said "yes" in Christ. This isn’t about forcing a feeling or claiming something out of thin air; it’s about recognizing our union with the One who isthe answer.

In today’s devotional, Bob Hoekstra points to the staggering truth that every spiritual blessing we could ever need has already been given to us—in Christ. Yet, many believers live unaware of these riches. That’s why Paul prays not that we would receive more, but that the eyes of our hearts would be enlightened to see what is already ours. The emphasis is not on asking for new blessings, but on spiritual sight—illumination by the Holy Spirit—to perceive what God has already poured out.

In today's reflection from My Utmost for His Highest, Oswald Chambers draws our attention to Jesus’ lament over Jerusalem—a moment filled with sorrow, not for His own suffering, but for what they had missed. The people were steeped in religious appearances, but their hearts remained hard, blind to what would bring them peace. Jesus entered the city not with fanfare in His heart, but with tears in His eyes, burdened by the reality that their pride and false security had shut the door to His life-giving presence.

Today’s reflection from Abide Above reminds me that the Lord is not looking for workers as much as He is looking for witnesses—people who bear the life of His Son in their everyday moments. Whether we are in the pulpit or washing dishes at the kitchen sink, the calling is the same: to allow Christ’s life to be formed in us and expressed through us. Ministry is not about launching into activity or programs. It is about the overflow of His indwelling life.

In this second part of the reflection on 2 Corinthians 13:14, we’re shown how the Apostle Paul reveals the movement of God toward us—not just in theory or positional truth, but for our daily experience and enjoyment. Paul doesn’t merely send a farewell in his letter; he bestows a blessing that embodies the very presence and activity of the Triune God.

Galatians 5 is Paul’s pastoral plea for believers to remain in the freedom Christ died to secure—not a freedom to indulge the flesh, nor a license to disregard others, but a Spirit-filled liberty that expresses itself in love. Paul warns the Galatians that if they seek righteousness through circumcision or law-keeping, Christ will be of no benefit to them. To trust in the law is to fall away from grace, because grace is not something we earn—it’s the very ground we now stand on in Christ.

In Galatians 5, Paul passionately pleads with believers to remain grounded in the freedom Christ has secured and not be entangled again in a yoke of slavery to the Law. The issue of circumcision is no longer merely a ceremonial one—it becomes a symbol of seeking justification through human effort. Paul makes it unmistakably clear: if you trust in the law to justify you, Christ becomes of no benefit. This isn’t just a slight misstep—it’s a denial of grace. Falling from grace, in Paul’s terms, is not about losing salvation through sin; it’s about abandoning the only means by which salvation and spiritual life are possible: grace through faith.

John 4 is a chapter of divine appointments and unexpected grace. At its heart lies Jesus’ encounter with a Samaritan woman—a moment not just historically or geographically significant, but spiritually revolutionary. While most Jews avoided Samaritans due to centuries of tension and intermarriage, Jesus deliberately chose to pass through Samaria. The Grace and Truth Study Bible makes it clear: this wasn’t just the shortest route—it was a divinely ordained meeting pointing to Jesus’ role as the Savior of the world.

E. Stanley Jones beautifully draws our gaze back to the opening verses of John’s Gospel, where we are reminded that in Him was life, and the life was the light of men. He explores how this life is not just biological existence or spiritual vitality in theory—it is the animating presence of Jesus Christ that brings creativity to thought, compassion to emotion, and action to the will. Where Jesus is, things begin to live. Not merely survive, but overflow with light-giving purpose.

In today’s reading from Immeasurably More by Ray Stedman, we are introduced to the grain offering—also known as the meal or meat offering. Uniquely, this is the only offering in Leviticus that involves no bloodshed. Instead, it is made of the finest flour mixed with oil and presented with incense, representing something essential yet bloodless—bread, the very sustenance of life.

Today’s entry from A.B. Simpson calls me upward—to lift my eyes and my life to the heights of God’s calling. The verse from Isaiah paints a picture of dwelling not in valleys of spiritual compromise, but on mountain heights where God Himself provides food, water, and refuge. Simpson urges me not to settle for shallow living—he compares it to the futility of a mighty steamship trying to operate in a shallow pond. The ship was made for the deep, not the shore. Likewise, I’ve been redeemed and sanctified—made new in Christ—and that new life cannot operate well in the lowlands of sin, selfishness, and worldly limitation. The Christian life isn’t stifled by its demands; it’s stifled when we try to mix resurrection life with earthly thinking. I wasn’t made to wade through shallow puddles of self-effort. I was designed to soar with Christ, to dwell where His Spirit leads, where His provision flows, and where my soul expands into its true inheritance as a child of God.

Bob Hoekstra reminds us today of a staggering truth: we lack absolutely nothing in Christ. Ephesians 1:3 doesn’t promise a trickle of blessings we must strive to earn—it boldly proclaims that every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places has already been given to us in Christ. This means that heaven’s full treasury of spiritual riches—wisdom, peace, joy, righteousness, compassion, courage, and more—is not something we’re waiting on, but something we already possess because we are united with the One in whom all fullness dwells.

In today’s entry from My Utmost for His Highest, Oswald Chambers reflects on the moment Paul regained his sight, not only physically but spiritually. Paul didn’t just open his eyes to the world again—he opened his soul to the living Christ. That vision became the guiding flame for the rest of his life. Everything else lost its charm. His fascination, his message, his identity—all were consumed with Christ.