Jehoshaphat’s return from battle was not a triumphant homecoming. The prophet Jehu met him with a rebuke: "Should you help the wicked and love those who hate the Lord? Because of this, wrath has gone out against you from the Lord." (2 Chron. 19:2). It was a sharp correction, a reminder that his misguided alliance with Ahab had consequences. And yet, God’s mercy shone through: "Nevertheless, some good is found in you, for you destroyed the Asherahs out of the land, and have set your heart to seek God." (v. 3).

The Lord commanded Ezekiel to act out a prophetic warning through a striking image—shaving his head and beard, dividing the hair into three portions. Each portion represented a different fate for the people of Jerusalem: fire within the city, death by the sword, and scattering to the wind. Yet, in His instruction, the Lord also directed Ezekiel to preserve a small remnant, tucking it into the folds of his garment. Even in judgment, there was mercy.

Job, once a man of great honor and wealth, now finds himself in the depths of suffering. He turns his lament from his friends to God Himself, grappling with his fleeting existence and questioning the fairness of his pain. In his despair, he likens his life to that of a slave laboring without reward, a sick man waiting for the inevitable, or a cloud vanishing in the wind. He wonders—if God's promises are true, how can this be?

“For My thoughts are not your thoughts, Nor are your ways My ways,” says the LORD. “For as the heavens are higher than the earth, So are My ways higher than your ways, And My thoughts than your thoughts.” — Isaiah 55:8-9

Our natural inclination is to assess life through the lens of personal logic, comfort, and understanding. Like Paul, we may encounter situations where our first response is, This must change. Yet, God invites us into a higher way of thinking—a perspective that aligns with His wisdom rather than our own.

📖 Woe to me! I cried. I am ruined! For I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips, and my eyes have seen the King, the Lord Almighty. — Isaiah 6:5

Isaiah’s vision of the Lord was a moment of awakening—he saw the splendor of God’s holiness, and instantly, the true state of his own heart became clear. In that holy light, self-assurance crumbled. What once seemed sufficient was now exposed as unclean.

"By faith Abraham, when called to go to a place he would later receive as his inheritance, obeyed and went, without knowing where he was going." — Hebrews 11:8 BSB

Faith does not demand sight, nor does it require explanations. It rests securely in the One who calls, trusting that His way is sure, even when the path is unseen. Abraham stepped forward into the unknown, not with a map in hand, but with confidence in the voice that beckoned him forward.

📖 “For the love of Christ constraineth us.” — 2 Corinthians 5:14

Oswald Chambers describes the overwhelming force of Christ’s love as something that held Paul in a grip so firm that nothing else on his horizon could compete. Paul wasn’t motivated by personal gain, religious duty, or even the rewards of heaven. He was utterly consumed by the reality of Christ’s love—a love so compelling that it dictated every thought, action, and response.

"The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you all…For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ…And God is able to make all grace abound toward you."
— Revelation 22:21; 2 Corinthians 8:9; 9:8

The Christian life is not a system to master or a technique to perfect—it is a life lived in union with a Person. The grace we need for every moment flows from Christ Himself, not from our own striving. When Paul repeatedly closes his letters with "The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you all," it is no mere formality. It is a divine reminder that every step of our journey must be sustained by the life of Christ within us.

“Not as though I had already attained... but I follow after, if that I may apprehend that for which also I am apprehended of Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 3:12)

There is a divine order in our growth: need, then supply. The Lord does not flood us with abundance before we recognize our emptiness. First, He reveals our lack—our utter inability to live the Christian life in our own strength. This realization may shake us, even discourage us at first, but in His wisdom, it is the very door to freedom.

Eric Metaxas, in Letter to the American Church, asserts that "God calls us to defend the unborn." While this statement aligns with the biblical view that life is sacred and that God forms human beings in the womb (Psalm 139:13-16; Jeremiah 1:5), the method by which Christians should engage with this issue raises an important question:

Did Jesus, during His earthly ministry, advocate for His followers to engage in cultural and political battles to bring about moral change?

Eric Metaxas’ Letter to the American Church delivers a passionate plea for the modern church to take a stand against cultural and political decline. Drawing parallels between the American church today and the German church of the 1930s, Metaxas argues that silence in the face of evil is complicity. His thesis is simple: just as the German church failed to resist Hitler and suffered the consequences, the American church must not repeat the same mistake by remaining passive in the face of moral and ideological shifts.

In 1 Corinthians 7, Paul provides guidance on marriage, singleness, and how believers should approach these aspects of life with an eternal perspective. While the Corinthians seemed to lean toward extreme views—either treating marriage as unnecessary or undervaluing singleness—Paul brings a balanced, Christ-centered wisdom. He affirms the goodness of marriage, the calling of singleness, and the principle of remaining in the state in which God has called each person.

Come now, let us settle the matter, says the Lord. Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red as crimson, they shall be like wool. If you are willing and obedient, you will eat the good things of the land; but if you resist and rebel, you will be devoured by the sword. For the mouth of the Lord has spoken.
—Isaiah 1:18-20

The struggle to change is a universal human experience. Many try to clean up their lives—breaking bad habits, making resolutions, striving to be better. But as Isaiah reveals, the issue isn’t just our behavior; it's the condition of our hearts. The root of our struggle isn’t merely what we do but who we are apart from God.

"It shall not be this way among you. Instead, whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first among you must be your slave—"
— Matthew 20:26-27 (BSB)

The world often measures greatness by power, influence, and personal achievement. Yet, Jesus turns this notion on its head, declaring that true greatness is found in servanthood. The highest form of service is not merely fulfilling duties but becoming a bondslave—one who willingly surrenders their rights out of love and devotion.

Christopher Hitchens, the late atheist and intellectual provocateur, was one of the most vocal critics of Mother Teresa. Among his many critiques, one of his most striking statements was:

“She was not a friend of the poor. She was a friend of poverty.”

Hitchens argued that Mother Teresa did not seek to alleviate poverty in any systemic way but instead glorified suffering, seeing it as a spiritual virtue rather than a problem to be solved. He contended that she did not strive to end the suffering of the poor but instead perpetuated it by upholding a theology that viewed suffering as redemptive.

“Woe is unto me, if I preach not the gospel!” — 1 Corinthians 9:16

There is a moment when the call of God grips a person so deeply that it becomes an undeniable reality, shaping the course of their life. Paul speaks of this constraint—not as a mere obligation but as an internal fire that will not let him go. It is not simply a duty to share Christ but a deep, abiding compulsion born from his union with Christ Himself.

When we think of strength, our minds often turn to physical endurance—the ability to carry out daily tasks, work tirelessly, and maintain vitality. However, Scripture reveals that God’s promise of strength extends far beyond the limitations of the body. While physical strength inevitably diminishes, spiritual strength in Christ is inexhaustible. The question we must ask is this: When God speaks of renewing our strength and providing power to the weak, is He referring to bodily stamina, or is He pointing us to a greater reality—one that is rooted in His indwelling life?

"My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness"…He gives power to the weak, and to those who have no might He increases strength. Even the youths shall faint and be weary, and the young men shall utterly fall, But those who wait on the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint.
— 2 Corinthians 12:9 and Isaiah 40:29-31

Our natural instinct, when faced with challenges, is often to rely on our own strength or lament our weakness. We either attempt to push through in self-sufficiency or resign ourselves to failure, believing that we are too frail to endure. But the Lord makes it abundantly clear that neither human effort nor despair is the answer.

"Grace and peace be multiplied unto you through the knowledge of God, and of Jesus our Lord" (2 Peter 1:2).

We can never overvalue the hunger for God’s Word, for this hunger is the work of the Spirit drawing us into deeper knowledge of Christ. While salvation is a gift received apart from extensive Bible knowledge, spiritual maturity is inseparable from a steadfast pursuit of Scripture. Through His Word, God has granted us exceeding great and precious promises, and by these, we partake of the divine nature (2 Peter 1:4).

Paul’s words to the Corinthians in 1 Corinthians 6 expose a troubling issue in the early church—believers taking each other to court before unbelievers. The underlying problem, however, wasn’t just about legal disputes; it revealed a deeper issue of misplaced priorities, greed, and a failure to live out the reality of their identity in Christ. Furthermore, Paul addresses the broader theme of how Christians should live in light of their union with Christ, including purity in both their actions and their bodies.