The third chapter of John unfolds one of the most memorable conversations in all of Scripture—the nighttime meeting between Nicodemus and Jesus. Nicodemus, a respected religious teacher and Pharisee, came in sincerity but with insufficient understanding. Despite his religious knowledge and moral efforts, he still needed to be “born again”—or more accurately, born from above. Jesus explained that natural birth alone does not grant entrance into the kingdom of God; one must be born of water and the Spirit, pointing to the spiritual cleansing and inner renewal prophesied in Ezekiel. The Spirit, like the wind, moves freely and invisibly but leaves clear evidence of its presence in a transformed life.

“He is not safe, but He is good. He is the King, I tell you.”

Today’s reading from In Christ reflects on something most Christians sense but rarely know how to put into words: that Jesus is both the final revelation of God and, at the same time, the ever-unfolding Word we’ll never fully comprehend. E. Stanley Jones affirms that the Incarnation—God becoming man in Christ—is once for all time, never to be repeated. Jesus is the final Word, the fulfillment after centuries of prophets. But His meaning isn’t something to be boxed up and labeled. His person and purpose continue to unfold by the Spirit.

Ray Stedman’s reflection today brings our attention to a kind of giving that goes far beyond budgets or bills—it goes straight to the heart of God. As Paul acknowledges the gifts he received from the Philippians, he’s not merely issuing a thank-you note. He’s revealing something eternal: that the joy in giving lies not in what the receiver gains but in what the giver receives.

3 John 1:2 — “Beloved, I pray that in every way you may prosper and enjoy good health, as your soul also prospers.”

Today’s reflection from Days of Heaven on Earth invites us to consider the connection between spiritual alignment and well-being. A.B. Simpson draws our attention to a deeper kind of healing—one that begins in the soul and then permeates the body and circumstances. The verse from 3 John isn’t merely a kind wish for health and success—it’s a reminder that when our souls are prospering in righteousness, the rest of our lives come into alignment with God’s peace, power, and provision.

Today’s devotional from Day by Day by Grace is a fresh reminder of the immense contrast between the inheritance of Adam and the inheritance of Christ. Paul presents a before-and-after snapshot of humanity: on one side, the reign of death that spread to all through Adam’s sin; on the other, the reign of life available only through Christ.

1 Timothy 2:1 — “I urge, then, first of all, that petitions, prayers, intercession and thanksgiving be made for all people.”

Oswald Chambers reminds us today that true prayer isn’t sentimental, casual, or merely therapeutic—it’s intercession. It’s not about feeling better or sounding spiritual. It’s about entering into the very thoughts of God for others, worshiping Him, and aligning our desires with His heart.

Today’s Abide Above devotional emphasizes something essential yet often missed: the battle against sin is not won at the moment of temptation—it’s already won before the day begins. The writer wants us to see that Christ’s disposition, His settled mindset of surrender and suffering, is to be ours as well. We’re not meant to be reactive strugglers, constantly caught off-guard and scrambling to reckon ourselves dead to sin once the temptation is already staring us in the face.

Today’s devotional draws our focus to what Paul understood so clearly: the Scriptures are not merely about history, morality, or tradition—they are about Christ. Everything in the Old Testament—the deliverance from Egypt, the rise and fall of kings, the law, the prophecies, the poetry—all of it pointed to a person. But many missed Him.

T. Austin-Sparks speaks straight to the restless heart—the one that’s striving, searching, and stretching toward a deeper spiritual life, only to find itself weary and fruitless. His message is not an invitation to do more, but to know Christ more. Sparks reminds us that our longing for spiritual fullness will never be satisfied by technique, discipline, or intensity. The Lord gently redirects our gaze: “I am the way.”

I recently read an article on The “Victorious Life”: Studies in Perfectionism, vol. 2 by BB Warfield from 1918 as originally published in The Princeton Theological Review, and I want to say how grateful I am for the historical and theological care Warfield brought to this important discussion. Warfield is exactly right that theology must be anchored in Scripture, and his attention to doctrinal clarity and historical awareness is commendable. In that spirit, I offer a friendly, grace-filled perspective from within the tradition of the exchanged life—one that, while perhaps overlapping with some of the concerns raised in his article, offers a Christ-centered framework that avoids the extremes he rightly cautioned against.

Ezra 10 closes the book with raw repentance and a national turning back to God—though not without immense cost. Ezra’s heart-wrenching prayer in public stirred deep grief among the people, exposing how the entanglement with unbelieving spouses had opened doors to idolatrous compromise. This wasn’t merely a cultural issue—it was a matter of covenant fidelity.

In Ezekiel 31, the prophet delivers a poetic allegory just two months before the fall of Jerusalem. Speaking the word of the Lord, Ezekiel holds up the image of a mighty tree—Assyria—as a metaphor to warn Egypt. The Assyrian Empire, once towering in majesty and strength, was envied by all but ultimately brought low because of its pride. Egypt is now compared to this once-glorious tree. The message is clear: no empire, no matter how impressive, is exempt from God’s judgment when its heart is lifted up in arrogance.

In Job 33, Elihu steps in—not to condemn, but to clarify. He urges Job to listen, not to more rebuke, but to reassurance that God has not been silent. Elihu acknowledges Job's confusion, repeating back Job’s belief that God is distant and unresponsive. But Elihu gently refutes that idea. His main point is both pastoral and profound: God does speak, and when He speaks, it is always for the purpose of saving.

In Galatians 3, Paul takes the gloves off with the Galatians. With passionate clarity, he confronts their spiritual regression. They began by faith, receiving the Spirit and witnessing God’s work among them — not by obeying the law, but by believing what they heard. So why were they now living as if the law could perfect what faith had begun?

He reminds them of Abraham — justified by faith long before the law existed. Through Abraham, God promised that the blessing of justification would reach the nations, not through works, but through belief. But Paul doesn’t shy away from the curse that comes with relying on the law. Since the law demands perfect obedience and none can give it, all who cling to it are under a curse. The only escape? Christ. He became a curse for us so we might receive the promise of the Spirit through faith.

John 2 marks the beginning of Jesus’ public ministry and highlights two important signs: the transformation of water into wine at a wedding in Cana and the cleansing of the temple in Jerusalem. Both events showcase the arrival of the Messianic age and point beyond the actions themselves to the deeper truths they signify.

Jude’s brief but urgent letter opens with a fiery charge: “Contend for the faith.” Not passively preserve it. Not quietly ignore corruption. But contend—actively stand against distortions of the gospel, especially those that twist God’s grace into an excuse for sin. That kind of boldness is necessary when truth is under siege.

If I’m reading both of these devotionals rightly, there’s a beautiful tension we’re invited to hold. In the Job 32 post, we meet Elihu, a young man moved not by pride or personal offense but by a holy zeal for God’s honor. He doesn’t speak for the sake of being heard. He speaks because he cannot stay silent while God's justice is misrepresented. The Spirit of God fills him with insight that surpasses human status or tradition. It’s a moment of Spirit-filled boldness, where silence would be dishonoring.

Today’s entry from In Christ by E. Stanley Jones brings to light something I’ve witnessed countless times in Christian circles—zeal for defending the faith that somehow misses the heart of the faith itself. Jones takes us to Jude’s call to “contend for the faith once delivered to the saints”—but rather than fueling a posture of argument, he invites us to consider what kind of contending is truly Christ-centered.

Today’s entry from Immeasurably More draws our hearts toward a truer understanding of contentment—not as having everything we want, but as wanting only what we have. Ray Stedman reflects on Paul’s testimony in Philippians 4:12, where the apostle confesses that he learned the secret of contentment. It's not innate. We’re not born with a quiet soul. We grow up striving—reaching for something newer, better, more satisfying—but never quite arriving.