The world tells us that self-confidence is the key to success. From childhood, we are trained to trust in our own abilities, to develop skills, to push forward with sheer determination. We are told that our identity is built upon what we accomplish, what we know, and how well we perform. But Paul shatters this illusion, declaring that true spirituality is the exact opposite: we put no confidence in the flesh. Let’s explore what Ray Stedman has to say about this in today’s devotional, Immeasurably More.

When Jesus told Simon Peter to put out into deep water and let down his nets, He was asking for more than a simple act of fishing. He was calling Peter to step beyond the familiar, to move past the shallow waters of self-reliance and into the depths where only faith could sustain him. The Lord often calls us to move forward with what we already know, rather than being paralyzed by uncertainty.

When Jesus stood before the tomb of Lazarus, He wasn’t merely offering hope for a future resurrection. He was declaring Himself as the very source of resurrection life. "I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in Me, though he may die, he shall live. And whoever lives and believes in Me shall never die." (John 11:25-26) Martha saw resurrection as something distant, an event at the end of the age. But Jesus corrected her thinking—resurrection was not just a future hope; it was a present reality in Him.

Faith is not about knowing where we are going—it is about knowing the One who leads us. Abraham’s life exemplifies this truth. When God called him to leave his home, he obeyed without knowing the destination. His faith was not rooted in a plan but in a Person. Today, the separation God calls us to is not always a physical one but a mental and moral distinction from the world. Jesus’ words in Luke 14:26 remind us that our allegiance to Him must surpass even our closest earthly ties.

The grace of God is not merely a doctrine to be understood but a reality to be lived. Our Father, in His infinite kindness, has placed us in eternal union with Christ so that He—not we—may live through us. The Holy Spirit indwells us, not as a mere helper but as the One who operates in and through us. Instead of striving and struggling to live the Christian life by human effort, we are invited to rest in this truth, allowing Christ to be our life and source.

In Part 1 of this series, we explored how the fear of death can be compared to watching a fictional movie of the old self—a false narrative that has no claim on the believer. We saw that setting the mind on Christ is the key to turning off that movie and embracing the reality of our new identity.

But what if someone understands this truth intellectually and still finds themselves drawn back into fear? What if, even after “turning off the movie,” something within them still longs to press play? This raises a deeper question: Why do we sometimes entertain fear, even when we know it’s a lie?

If someone were to ask, “Who is Jesus?” how would you answer? Many would describe Him as the Savior, the Son of God, the Good Shepherd, or the Lamb who takes away the sin of the world. All of these are true, but Scripture provides even deeper, richer descriptions of Christ—portraits so captivating that when we truly see Him, our hearts are drawn into deeper love, trust, and worship.

Life has a way of capturing our attention. Our minds are constantly pulled in different directions—pressures at work, struggles at home, personal failures, the distractions of the world. Even in our spiritual lives, we can find ourselves caught in cycles of striving—trying harder to grow, trying to love God more, trying to fix what’s wrong inside of us. But what if transformation isn’t found in trying at all? What if the key to true spiritual growth isn’t found in our effort, but in where we set our gaze?

Transformation in the Christian life is not achieved through sheer willpower, self-discipline, or external behavioral modification. True transformation happens when we behold Christ. As Paul writes in 2 Corinthians 3:18,

“And we all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another. For this comes from the Lord who is the Spirit.”

This single verse encapsulates one of the most beautiful and freeing realities of the Christian life: We are transformed not by force, but by beholding Christ.

Joey Parker’s article, Delighting in God’s Word to Remedy Disordered Affections, presents a thoughtful discussion on the necessity of reorienting our affections toward Christ and the role of Scripture in that transformation. The article rightly identifies the insufficiency of mere behavioral modification and emphasizes that true change occurs when our hearts are captivated by something greater than the desires of the world. This principle, famously articulated in Thomas Chalmers’ The Expulsive Power of a New Affection, is a foundational truth in spiritual growth.

Paul’s opponents boasted in their spiritual triumphs and visions, so he turns their pride on its head by boasting in his sufferings. He recounts a vision of paradise so great that it could have tempted him to pride. To counter this, God allowed a “thorn in the flesh,” a torment from Satan, yet sovereignly purposed for Paul’s humility. Paul pleaded for its removal, but the Lord’s response transformed his perspective: “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Rather than removing the hardship, God gave Paul more of Himself. This shifted Paul’s entire outlook—he no longer sought to escape the weakness but learned to boast in it, for in his weakness, Christ’s power was most evident.

In Luke 21:5-38, Jesus warns His disciples not to be deceived by external appearances or misled by events that seem to signal the end. The grandeur of the temple, which people took as a sign of God's favor, would be completely destroyed. Likewise, Jesus clarifies that wars, natural disasters, and false messiahs do not necessarily indicate the end of time but are simply part of a fallen world.

In his devotional, E. Stanley Jones highlights the beauty of unity in Christ—a unity not built on uniformity, but on diversity. As believers, we are one body in Christ, yet we do not lose our distinctiveness in that unity. God Himself, in His triune nature, models this—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, each distinct, yet fully one. Jesus prayed for this kind of unity among His followers, a unity that embraces differences rather than erases them.

Paul's warning in Philippians 3:2 is strikingly direct—he calls out those who promote external religion, those who insist that outward rituals are necessary for true spirituality. These "dogs," as he calls them, are not beloved household pets but scavengers feeding on what should be discarded—rituals that once had meaning but are now obsolete in Christ.

Psalm 91:10 declares a profound truth: “No evil will befall you, no plague will approach your tent.” The psalmist paints a picture of absolute protection—one that extends beyond physical safety to a deeper reality: the security of our life in Christ.

We are familiar with terms like waterproof and fireproof, but what about being sin-proof? The devotional writer suggests that when we are filled with the Holy Spirit and clothed in Christ’s righteousness, the enemy’s attacks lose their grip. Just as red-hot iron repels water, a heart ablaze with Christ’s life resists the enemy’s schemes.

“But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. Therefore, my beloved brethren, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that your labor is not in vain in the Lord.” (1 Corinthians 15:57-58)

The resurrection of Jesus Christ is not just a past event—it is a present reality that infuses our daily lives with victory. Through Christ, we have been set free from sin’s dominion and death’s finality. His triumph is not merely something we acknowledge but something we experience, as we live in the power of His indwelling life.

Oswald Chambers reminds us of a vital truth: God's promises aren’t merely comforts to cling to—they place a loving but unmistakable claim on our lives. Yes, we rightly delight in God’s promises, trusting He will fulfill every word. But there’s more—there’s our response. Holiness isn’t something we passively receive; it’s cultivated in us by the Spirit’s active presence, leading us toward purity out of profound reverence for God.

When counseling those who suffer or struggle, the language we choose reveals much about how deeply we understand our calling. Recently, I encountered an article titled "Dealing with a Disappointing Counselee" by Joshua Greiner, published through ACBC. While the intent behind the piece may certainly be honorable, I find myself gently questioning whether the approach and wording align fully with a Christ-centered, grace-oriented, exchanged life perspective.

Today's Abide Above devotional gently highlights the true essence and cost of authentic Christian leadership—sacrificial love. It reveals the stark contrast between worldly leaders who rule with power, ease, or convenience, and the true shepherds of God's flock, whose leadership mirrors the self-giving love of Jesus. Genuine leaders do not lead from self-interest or convenience. Instead, they willingly endure hardships, misunderstanding, and even neglect, quietly serving as bridges to guide others safely into a deeper relationship with Christ. This self-sacrificial posture involves absorbing criticism, patiently enduring complaints, and steadfastly pressing onward in love. The ultimate example is Christ Himself, who did not count equality with God as something to cling to but humbled Himself completely, even to death on a cross. As the bridge quietly bears the weight of those who cross it, unseen and uncelebrated, true leaders joyfully accept obscurity and sacrifice because their eyes are fixed upon the unseen eternal Architect who sees, knows, and cares.

In their recent discussion, Dale Johnson and Marshall Adkins address the concept of integration within Christian counseling, aiming to clarify that integration is not a uniform concept but a spectrum with distinct variations. Integration, as they explain, generally describes combining biblical truth with secular psychology to create counseling methods or strategies. Johnson and Adkins carefully outline several ways Christians approach this integration, such as interdisciplinary integration (blending theological truths with psychological theories), worldview integration (removing ideas conflicting with Christianity and retaining what aligns with a Christian worldview), and various forms of eclecticism, including technical, theoretical, and assimilative approaches.