The Christian life is not a process of improving the old but of embracing the new. As Galatians 2:20 declares, "Not I, but Christ." This truth stands at the center of spiritual growth—our life is not a blend of self and Christ, flesh and Spirit, striving and resting. The flesh, in all its effort, remains at enmity with God and is incapable of submission. Holiness is not something we craft through self-discipline or personal resolve; it is Christ’s very life, expressed in and through us as we yield to Him

Jehoshaphat stands out as a king who sought the Lord with an undivided heart. Unlike many of his predecessors, he did not merely uphold religious tradition but actively pursued God’s ways. His devotion was not limited to personal faithfulness; he ensured that the entire nation was instructed in God’s law. By commissioning the Levites to teach the Scriptures throughout Judah, he established a foundation upon which the nation could thrive, demonstrating that when God’s Word is honored, His blessing follows.

God’s call on Ezekiel was no light commission. The Lord commanded him to take His words deep within himself—to ingest them as one would consume a meal—so that every word Ezekiel spoke would not be his own, but the very breath of God. The scroll, though filled with judgments, was sweet to Ezekiel’s taste, for the words of God, even when they bring warnings, are pure and true. The Lord did not call him to persuade the people or to measure his effectiveness by their response. He was simply to proclaim what he had received, faithful to the voice that had sent him.

Eliphaz, one of Job’s friends, attempts to offer counsel in the midst of Job’s suffering. His words contain truths about God’s justice and wisdom, even quoted later by Paul in 1 Corinthians 3:19, yet they fail to grasp the heart of Job’s unique situation. Eliphaz encourages Job to turn to God, accept discipline, and submit humbly, suggesting that Job’s suffering is merely God’s corrective hand at work. But in doing so, he misapplies truth, assuming Job’s suffering must be the result of personal failings rather than something beyond human comprehension.

The presence of the Holy Spirit within us is a reality that redefines our very existence. Paul’s declaration in 1 Corinthians 6:19—that our bodies are the temple of the Holy Spirit—is not merely a statement of identity but a revelation of purpose. In the Old Testament, the temple was the sacred place where God’s presence dwelled. It was stationary, a fixed point where people came to encounter Him. But in Christ, God has made His dwelling within us, transforming us into moving temples that carry His presence into the world.

Mary’s act of anointing Jesus with costly perfume is a striking picture of true worship—worship that holds nothing back, knowing that no offering is too great for the One who has given us everything. In pouring out her expensive nard, she demonstrated a heart fully captivated by the worth of Christ. Her worship was not calculated or restrained; it was an outpouring of love and gratitude, uninhibited by cultural expectations or the opinions of others.

When God speaks, there is no mistaking His voice. He does not merely reach our ears; He reaches our hearts, arresting us in the midst of our self-assured plans and revealing how little we truly understand. Paul, once convinced he was serving God by persecuting Christians, was suddenly struck down on the road to Damascus. In that moment, the voice of Jesus shattered his self-made certainty, forcing him to ask the humbling question, “Who art Thou, Lord?” (Acts 26:15). His greatest mistake had not been in his zeal but in the spirit with which he pursued it.

The promise of a new covenant given through the prophet Jeremiah speaks of a divine shift in how humanity relates to God. The old covenant, given through Moses, was a system based on the law—righteousness demanded, yet never enabled. It revealed God’s holy standard but left man powerless to meet it. However, grace came through Jesus Christ, ushering in a covenant “not according to” the one given at Sinai (Jeremiah 31:31-32, John 1:17).

The principle of sowing and reaping in Galatians 6:7-8 serves as a clear reminder that self-effort and self-righteousness cannot produce the life of Christ within us. The old self, with all its striving to be something for God, has already been rejected at Calvary, and the only life that pleases Him is the life of His Son in us. The deception of self is subtle—it can dress up in religious activity, prayer, and service, yet still seek to glorify itself rather than Christ. When self is at the center, even acts of apparent devotion become tainted with pride.

Paul’s words to his first letter to the Corinthians in Chapter 4 reveal the contrast between human judgment and divine accountability. The believers in Corinth had fallen into the trap of evaluating teachers by worldly standards—favoring eloquence, status, and charisma over faithfulness to Christ. But Paul reminds them that church leaders are not to be measured by human approval. They are stewards, entrusted by God to manage His truth with faithfulness, and the only evaluation that truly matters is God’s final judgment (1 Cor. 4:1-5).vineyard

As Jesus approached the final hours before His crucifixion, He stood alone. Those who followed Him for years—who declared their devotion, who swore they would never leave Him—could not endure the hour of darkness. Judas betrayed Him. Peter denied Him. The others fled. At Gethsemane, as He wrestled with the coming agony, even His closest friends could not stay awake with Him.

Jesus promised us that the Holy Spirit would teach us all things (John 14:26). This promise encompasses every area of our lives—there is no circumstance, relationship, or challenge beyond His insight and guidance. Yet how often do we exhaust ourselves searching for answers in our own strength before turning to Him? When the Spirit reveals His wisdom, it becomes clear that His instruction was always available, waiting for us to trust Him.

In John 11:21-26, Martha comes to Jesus burdened with grief over the loss of her brother Lazarus. Her words, “Lord, if you had been here,” reveal a common perspective we all share: we trust in what God could have done in the past or what He might do in the future, but often forget that He is the God of the present—right here, right now.

Martha’s faith, while genuine, was focused on a future event: the resurrection at the last day. Her theology was accurate, but Jesus shifted her focus from a distant promise to a present reality. With His declaration, "I am the resurrection and the life," Jesus revealed that He is not constrained by time. Wherever He is, God’s power is fully present, and His miracles are available even now.

Jesus offers His followers a joy unlike anything this world can provide—a joy that is not dependent on circumstances but flows from His very life within us. In John 15:11, He declares, “I have told you these things so that My joy may be in you and your joy may be complete.” This joy, rooted in Christ, is full, abundant, and eternal.

Picture an underground spring that continually overflows, regardless of the weather above. It does not rely on rain or external conditions to keep flowing. In the same way, the joy of the Lord is an artesian well within the believer’s heart, naturally bubbling up from the life of Christ. This joy persists even in sorrow or hardship, for it is not tied to earthly circumstances but to the unshakable reality of our union with Christ.

Let’s reflect more on our previous post on Oswald Chamber’s devotional from today. Life often brings situations where we feel wronged, ignored, or dismissed. Whether it’s dealing with unresponsive companies, difficult coworkers, or strained relationships, our natural inclination can be to dig in our heels, insist on our rights, and pursue justice with a tightly clenched fist. Yet, as we reflect on Acts 26:14 and the words of Oswald Chambers, we are reminded of a deeper calling: to surrender self-will and allow Christ’s Spirit to guide our responses.

The story of Saul on the road to Damascus is a striking reminder of how self-will can blind us to the harm it causes. Saul believed he was serving God, yet in his zeal, he was persecuting Jesus Himself. Acts 26:14 reveals the piercing question that changed everything: “Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou Me?” This question goes beyond Saul—it challenges us to examine our own hearts.

Whenever we insist on our way, defend our rights, or pursue ambitions apart from God’s leading, we risk grieving the Spirit of Christ within us. Even good intentions, if driven by self-will, can oppose His purposes. Oswald Chambers reminds us that the Spirit of Jesus is marked by meekness, humility, and a deep oneness with the Father. To live in harmony with Him, we must let go of obstinacy and self-determination.

Grace is not merely the starting point of our walk with Christ; it is the continual means by which we grow and flourish in Him. 2 Peter 3:18 exhorts us to “grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.” This growth is not born of human striving but results from God’s grace actively at work within us, producing Christlikeness.

At times, we may feel cautious about emphasizing grace, fearing that it might lead to irresponsibility or indulgence. However, Scripture assures us that genuine grace transforms lives. When we rely on God’s grace, sin diminishes, and righteousness abounds. Romans 6:14 declares, “For sin shall not have dominion over you, for you are not under law but under grace.” Grace empowers us to live as new creations, free from the dominion of sin.

God’s power matures in our weakness, but the path to that maturity often begins with a hard truth: the rejection of the self-life. This process is not instantaneous; it unfolds over years as the Holy Spirit prepares our hearts to fully let go of the self-centered life we once trusted in. As 2 Corinthians 12:9 reveals, God's grace is not a supplement to our strength—it suffices completely, enabling His power to be made perfect in the very areas where we are weak.

Asa’s life reminds us of the sobering consequences of misplaced trust. His reign began with such promise, marked by reliance on the Lord and great spiritual reform. But in his later years, he drifted from that dependence. When faced with a threat from Israel’s King Baasha, Asa turned not to the Lord, who had previously given him victory, but to the king of Aram. He even took treasures from the Lord’s temple to secure Aram’s help. Though the immediate crisis was averted, Asa’s actions revealed a heart that had shifted from reliance on God to reliance on human alliances.

In Ezekiel 2, we witness the Lord commissioning the prophet Ezekiel to proclaim His message to a rebellious and hostile people. The Lord refers to Ezekiel as "son of man," emphasizing his humanity in contrast to God's divine authority and sovereignty. This title also reminds us of our dependence on God as we serve Him. Ezekiel’s calling is a reminder that the success of ministry is not measured by the responses of others but by faithfulness to God’s command.