📖 “Lovest thou Me?” — John 21:17

Oswald Chambers confronts us with a question that Jesus asked Peter—a question that bypasses sentiment and cuts straight to the heart. Peter, once bold in professing his devotion, now stands stripped of all bravado. Before, he had declared, “Though all may fall away, I will not” (Matthew 26:33), but now, after his denial of Christ, there is no more boasting. Jesus’ question does not seek a confident declaration but a revelation of true love—love that is not rooted in the natural self but in the Spirit.

📖 "In whom also we have obtained an inheritance, being predestinated according to the purpose of Him who worketh all things after the counsel of His own will.” —Ephesians 1:11

God’s providence is not a distant, impersonal force; it is the intentional outworking of His perfect will in every detail of our lives. His sovereignty extends over all creation, yet it also reaches into the intimate corners of our existence. There is no stray moment, no overlooked circumstance—everything is woven into His eternal plan for our good.

David had been a Christian for over twenty years. A dedicated churchgoer, he led Bible studies, served in multiple ministries, and was known for his theological depth. But beneath the surface, David was exhausted. He constantly measured his spiritual growth by his ability to resist temptation, his consistency in prayer, and his faithfulness in ministry. If he stumbled, he doubled down on self-discipline. If he felt distant from God, he tried harder. The Christian life felt like an endless treadmill—running but never arriving.

The old covenant, centered around the Mosaic Law, was never designed to make a person righteous. Instead, it served to reveal humanity’s sinfulness and its utter inability to achieve righteousness by human effort.

Paul’s message in 2 Corinthians 3 unveils the surpassing glory of the new covenant. Unlike the old covenant, which was written on tablets of stone and brought condemnation, the new covenant is written on the hearts of believers by the Spirit of the living God. This internal transformation brings freedom, righteousness, and boldness—qualities that define the life of every believer in Christ.

Many believers deeply desire to be faithful stewards of what God has given them but struggle with knowing what that actually looks like in daily life. The call to faithfulness in Luke 12:35-48 is clear: stay ready for Christ’s return, steward what has been entrusted to you, and serve with an undistracted heart. But how does this translate into practical steps? How do you shift from simply wanting to be a faithful servant to actually living as one?

Jesus’ parable in Luke 12:35-48 presents a striking contrast between two types of servants: one who remains vigilant and prepared for his master’s return and another who grows careless, assuming his master’s delay gives him time to indulge in selfish living. The message is clear—those entrusted with much will be held accountable for how they handle what they have been given. Faithful stewardship means living with a mindset of readiness, not out of fear, but out of joyful expectation and responsibility.

Luke 12 presents a sobering yet encouraging message: living with the final judgment in view brings clarity to our priorities. Jesus speaks directly to His disciples, warning them of hypocrisy, the dangers of misplaced trust in wealth, and the futility of worry. He exhorts them to acknowledge Him before men, to trust in the Father's provision, and to live faithfully as they await His return. Every section of this chapter points to the reality that what we do in this life matters in eternity.

📖 “The wind blows where it wishes, and you hear its sound, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.” — John 3:8

One of the most challenging aspects of appropriating Christ as life is the timing of illumination—when the Holy Spirit makes a truth real and experiential in our lives. It’s one thing to understand a biblical concept intellectually, but another to see it clearly in a way that transforms how we live.

📖 “The wind blows where it wishes, and you hear its sound, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.” — John 3:8

For years, I wrestled with understanding the timing of the Holy Spirit’s illumination. It wasn’t that I doubted His ability to reveal truth, nor that I resisted surrendering to Him, but rather that I struggled to grasp when and how He would illuminate certain truths to me. The process of appropriating Christ as life—of fully embracing the reality that it is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me (Gal. 2:20)—unfolded clearly in my understanding

📖 “For I am persuaded that neither death nor life, nor angels nor principalities nor powers, nor things present nor things to come, nor height nor depth, nor any other created thing, shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” — Romans 8:38-39

E. Stanley Jones challenges us to consider whether we have unknowingly allowed “good things” to take the place of the Best—Jesus Christ Himself. It is easy to see how sin can hinder our intimacy with Christ, but what about the subtle replacements? Church involvement, theological accuracy, family, social circles—these are not evil in themselves, yet if they become our ultimate pursuit, they can separate us from fully experiencing the love of God in Christ.

📖 “…because he poured out his life unto death, and was numbered with the transgressors.”
— Isaiah 53:12

When Jesus hung on the cross, He was not just enduring physical agony—He was embracing the full weight of our sin. He stood in our place, counted among the guilty, though He was innocent. His love did not wait for us to seek Him or to prove ourselves worthy; rather, He gave Himself entirely, pouring out His life so that we might receive His.

"Consider it pure joy, my brothers, when you encounter trials of many kinds." — James 1:2 BSB

When trials press in, joy is often the last thing on our minds. Yet, Scripture does not call us to feel joy but to count it as joy. The word reckon is crucial—it is the same word used when we are told to consider ourselves dead to sin (Romans 6:11). We may not feel dead to sin, but we believe God's declaration and live accordingly. In the same way, we view trials through God's perspective, choosing to rejoice, knowing they are tools in His hands for our good.

"Those who live according to the flesh set their minds on the things of the flesh, but those who live according to the Spirit, the things of the Spirit. For to be carnally minded is death, but to be spiritually minded is life and peace." (Romans 8:5-6)

Every day, we stand at a crossroads. One path leads to self-reliance, self-focus, and self-determination—the way of the flesh. The other path leads to dependence upon the indwelling Spirit of Christ, setting our minds on what He desires to accomplish in and through us. The contrast between these two ways of living could not be more extreme. To walk according to the flesh is to experience a form of spiritual deadness—weariness, striving, frustration, and ultimately, emptiness. But to walk by the Spirit is to experience life as God intended—marked by His peace, His sufficiency, and His vitality.

📜 “By this we believe…Jesus answered…, Do ye now believe?” — John 16:30-31

How often do we say we trust Christ, only to turn around and make decisions based on our own reasoning? Chambers points out that it is possible to be engaged in good and even necessary work, yet do so apart from true reliance on Christ. A sense of duty, an urgency to meet needs, or even a desire to honor God can subtly replace the simple act of resting in His resurrection life.

📖 “We will pass over armed before the Lord into the land of Canaan, that the possession of our inheritance… may be ours.” —Numbers 32:32

The Christian life is not an escape from battle, but a life of victory in the battle. When Israel crossed into the Promised Land, they did not find a peaceful paradise free of enemies. Instead, they found a land filled with giants, walled cities, and opposition. Yet the battles they fought were not theirs alone—God Himself led them into triumph as they trusted and obeyed.

The prophet Ezekiel delivers a sobering message of judgment against Egypt and its allies. Egypt, a nation of immense power and influence, is brought low by the Lord’s decree, demonstrating that no kingdom, no matter how mighty, can stand against the sovereign will of God. Chapter 31 draws upon the imagery of a towering cedar, a tree of unparalleled majesty, brought down to the depths because of its pride. Egypt, like Assyria before it, will fall, reminding all nations that self-sufficiency apart from God is a path to destruction.

The sixteenth chapter of Ezekiel paints a striking picture of Jerusalem’s relationship with the Lord—a relationship marked by undeserved love, betrayal, and ultimate restoration. The Lord, through Ezekiel, tells a parable of an abandoned child whom He rescues, nurtures, and adorns with beauty, only for her to turn against Him in unfaithfulness. The depth of Israel’s rebellion is displayed in their idolatry, reliance on foreign powers, and even the horrific act of child sacrifice. Yet, despite their corruption, the Lord’s covenant remains unbroken, and He promises a future restoration.

Bildad’s words in Job 18 contain a striking depiction of hell. His descriptions of darkness, terror, and separation from life are accurate when applied to the fate of the wicked. However, his failure lies in his assumption—his rigid moral framework leaves no room for understanding Job’s suffering outside of immediate retribution. Bildad cannot fathom that a man suffering so greatly could be anything but a recipient of divine judgment. In his certainty, he wounds rather than comforts.

📖 Hebrews 4:10-11 – "For the one who has entered His rest has himself also rested from his works, as God did from His. Therefore, let us be diligent to enter that rest, so that no one will fall, through following the same example of disobedience."

A Rest That Is Already Ours

The Christian life is not about striving but about abiding. Yet, many struggle to let go of self-effort, believing rest must be earned rather than received. The paradox is that surrender feels like a struggle, though it is merely the relinquishing of control. Even Christ, in Gethsemane, wrestled with yielding His will to the Father, not from rebellion, but from the weight of what lay ahead.