E. Stanley Jones guides us to the very heartbeat of union with Christ through one of Jesus’ most beloved metaphors—the Vine and the branches. But Jones refuses to let this picture become a mere teaching aid. Instead, he reveals that Jesus’ words in John 15 point to a present, vibrant, shared life. Christ doesn’t just influence us from above or direct us from afar—He lives in us as His own. We are not merely followers trying to copy a divine example; we are sharers in the very life of the Vine Himself.

Ray Stedman brings out a vital distinction today: healing is God’s work alone, but cleansing is something He invites us to walk in as a response. In Leviticus 14, the priest examines someone already healed of leprosy. The healing had already taken place—so why the ceremony? Because cleansing is the outward testimony of what God has already done inwardly.

Today’s entry in Days of Heaven on Earth exhorts us to live courageously by faith, not shrinking back in fear. Simpson contrasts two figures—Jeremiah and King Zedekiah. Jeremiah, though surrounded by danger, remained courageous and obedient. Zedekiah, however, was driven by fear, hesitant to obey God, and ended up devastated. The message is clear: fear makes us vulnerable, but faith-filled boldness under God’s direction protects and even preserves us.

Bob Hoekstra invites us into the mindset of Paul, a man who had every reason to boast in spiritual maturity after decades of walking with Christ. Yet Paul humbly confesses, “I do not count myself to have apprehended.” There’s a holy dissatisfaction in Paul’s tone—not despair, but desire. It’s the voice of someone who knows there is always more of Christ to know, more intimacy to be explored, more grace to be drawn into.

Chambers speaks to those of us who’ve known the sweetness of a spiritual high—a moment when God’s presence felt so close, so real, so alive, we thought, If only it could stay like this forever. But the purpose of those moments is not to linger in them. They are glimpses, revelations, flashes of divine clarity meant to shape how we live in the more ordinary valleys below.

Today’s devotional reflects on the paradox of spiritual power—how our human weakness becomes the very platform through which Christ’s sufficiency is revealed. A.M. describes a believer who has not merely accepted his weakness, but has rejoiced in it, because it becomes the very setting in which the power of Christ is displayed most beautifully.

This morning’s reflection from eManna speaks to a critical, often overlooked dynamic in our desire to reach others with the gospel: the spiritual foundation of intercession. The writer challenges the tendency to jump directly into evangelism with zeal, without having first laid the groundwork in prayer. Drawing from John 6:37 and Acts 2:47, the emphasis is on God as the One who draws, the One who gives people to Jesus, and the One who adds daily to the church those who are being saved.

John 10 is one of the richest portraits of Jesus in the Gospel, capturing His identity through the imagery of shepherding. Jesus isn’t simply like a shepherd—He is the Good Shepherd. In contrast to the religious leaders of His day, who were meant to guide and guard God's people but instead acted like hired hands or even thieves, Jesus shows what true, sacrificial care looks like. His words draw directly from Ezekiel 34, where God rebukes Israel’s shepherds for abandoning the sheep—and promises to come Himself to rescue them.

Paul calls believers to imitate God by walking in love, as demonstrated by Christ’s self-sacrificing love for the Church. This imitation is not legalistic behavior modification but a Spirit-led expression of the new identity believers already possess in Christ. Walking in love excludes immoral, impure, and greedy behavior, as well as obscene and careless speech—all of which are out of step with a life transformed by Christ. Paul urges gratitude and thanksgiving instead, for these flow naturally from hearts filled with the Spirit.

In today’s entry from In Christ, E. Stanley Jones draws our attention to the intimacy and dynamism of mutual abiding with the Holy Spirit. He reflects on Jesus’ promise in John 14:16–17 that the Spirit would not only be in us but also withus—our Paraclete, the One called alongside to counsel, guide, and energize. Jones unpacks the meaning of the Spirit as both “Counselor” and “Comforter”—not just offering direction, but supplying vitality, strength, and creative power through His indwelling presence.

Ray Stedman’s reflection on Leviticus 13 unveils how ancient instructions regarding leprosy serve as a spiritual analogy for identifying and dealing with inner maladies of the soul—resentments, anger, and buried bitterness. In the Old Testament, the afflicted person was brought to a priest for careful examination. This wasn’t only for the sake of personal healing but also for the preservation of the community. In the New Covenant, we are all part of a royal priesthood, and we are called to bring our inner afflictions into the light of God’s Word and the fellowship of trusted believers.

In today’s reflection, A.B. Simpson draws our attention to a simple but instructive image from nature—the mesquite tree. Its strength and usefulness aren’t found in what we see above ground, but in what lies deep beneath. Though the tree’s frame may seem slight or unimpressive, its thick roots tunnel deep into the soil, anchoring it and quietly supplying the raw material for pavements that hold up entire cities. San Antonio, Simpson notes, is built upon these roots—structures laid down not by what the eye admires, but by what the earth hides.

This morning’s reading reminds us of what truly matters—not just in moments of quiet but in the whole of life. Bob Hoekstra draws our eyes to the singular focus shared by both Paul and Mary of Bethany: the unwavering desire to know Jesus. Paul, nearing the height of his ministry, did not claim to have arrived spiritually. Instead, he declared that his one goal—his "one thing"—was to know Christ intimately, in the power of His resurrection.

Oswald Chambers gently pulls back the curtain on something we might overlook—those lingering “high places” in our lives. Though King Asa was known as a man whose heart was loyal to the Lord, he left some of the pagan shrines standing. God commended Asa’s faithfulness, but He also noted the compromise. And Chambers warns us that the things we excuse or shrug off as insignificant may, in God’s eyes, still be altars to another way—a rival affection that steals trust from Him.

The devotional reminds us that spiritual growth isn’t accidental—it follows a sacred pattern: purpose, provision, and process. The purpose of our salvation is clearly stated in Romans 8:29: to be conformed to the image of Christ. But that’s not a mission we undertake in self-effort. God’s provision for this transformation is the finished work of the Cross—fully sufficient, lacking nothing. We are told to reckon ourselves dead to sin and alive to God in Christ Jesus (Romans 6:11). And as we yield moment by moment, the Holy Spirit faithfully carries out the process of transforming us into Christ's likeness.

In this powerful moment on the road to Damascus, Saul—soon to become Paul—encountered a reality that would upend his entire understanding of God and the people of God. He believed he was defending God's holiness by persecuting heretics, those following the supposed imposter Jesus of Nazareth. But as a sudden light from heaven halted his journey, the voice that spoke did not ask, "Why are you persecuting My followers?" but rather, "Why are you persecuting Me?"

Nehemiah 7 opens with a shift in focus. The wall is completed, but the work of restoration is not finished—it simply enters a new phase. Just as Adam was commissioned to guard the garden and the Levites were tasked with safeguarding the tabernacle, Nehemiah entrusts faithful and God-fearing men to watch over the city gates. This act of vigilance is not merely for protection but for preservation—preserving the rhythms of worship, rest, and community life for God’s people. The gates are not always open, and that’s by design. There is wisdom in guarding space and time for what matters most: the worship of God and the well-being of families.

Ezekiel 38 launches us into a vision of a final confrontation—one not merely political or military but cosmic in scope and divine in purpose. God instructs Ezekiel to prophesy against a mysterious figure named Gog from the land of Magog, whose identity remains uncertain. While some speculate historical figures, the context makes clear this is a future leader, one who commands a global coalition bent on destroying God's people. Nations from every compass point—Persia, Cush, Put, Gomer, and others—gather under his banner.

In Job 40, God continues His discourse with Job, not backing away from His earlier declarations but intensifying them. He does not coddle or console Job with explanations. Instead, He confronts Job’s presumption with a question that pierces through human pride: “Shall a faultfinder contend with the Almighty?” (v.2). Job’s response is subdued and humbled—he places his hand over his mouth, signaling a posture of reverence and silence before a wisdom and power far beyond him.

E. Stanley Jones draws from Philippians 3:12 and 1 Corinthians 3:21–22 to offer a vibrant declaration of what it means to live as one possessed by Christ. He connects the inner mastery of the soul to the outward mastery of life’s challenges—not through self-discipline or willpower, but through divine possession. When Paul says, “I press on to make it my own because Christ Jesus has made me His own,” Jones sees this not as striving, but as responding to already-being-claimed.