Ray Stedman draws us into the sobering story of Nadab and Abihu, two priests whose offering of unauthorized fire led to their death by divine judgment. At first glance, this passage from Leviticus may appear harsh—an image of God many associate with the Old Testament: unpredictable, vengeful, and terrifying.

The essence of today’s reflection from Days of Heaven is stunningly simple and stunningly overlooked. Faith, the devotional reminds us, isn’t a negotiation with God or a cautious partnership. It’s a restful, trusting “amen” to what He has already declared with His resounding “yes.”

Bob Hoekstra’s devotional draws our attention beyond the moment of salvation to the ongoing purpose of the Christian life: that Christ would be formed in us. Paul expresses this desire with parental intensity, saying he labors in birth again for the Galatian believers—not for their rebirth, but for their transformation. They had already received Jesus by faith, becoming children of God, but now Paul groans with a shepherd’s concern that the life of Christ would take full shape in them.

In this entry, Oswald Chambers speaks of a radical truth rooted in Romans 6:5: the believer’s union with Christ in His death is not symbolic—it is actual and transformative. When a person identifies with Christ’s death, it is not merely the end of sin’s penalty, but the beginning of a new kind of life. Chambers explains that this “resurrection life” is not theoretical or reserved for the afterlife. It is present now—imparted by the risen Christ through the indwelling Holy Spirit.

Today’s reflection draws a beautiful progression in the believer’s heart. At first, we are eager to serve, to be useful in God’s kingdom—but that desire, even when sincere, is still tethered to our own perspective. In time, the Holy Spirit begins to reshape our inner concern. He impresses upon us not only the image of Christ, but Christ Himself—so that our longing shifts from usefulness to likeness. Eventually, it’s no longer our effort to serve, but His own heart reaching others through us—not by our striving, but by our being.

The heart of today’s devotional centers around a remarkable shift—one so sudden and Spirit-born that it turned a persecutor into a proclaimer overnight. Luke records Saul’s immediate preaching in Acts 9, not after years of theological training, but right after his encounter with the risen Lord. His message is stunningly simple yet boldly revelatory: “this One is the Son of God… this One is the Christ.”

In Nehemiah 5, the physical rebuilding of Jerusalem’s wall is interrupted by a far more dangerous threat—division within the community. Satan, having failed to halt the project through external enemies, now strikes from within, pitting the people against each other. The grievances are serious: the poor, stripped of land and options, cry out against their wealthier Jewish brothers who have capitalized on their hardship. Some are forced to sell property, others to mortgage fields or even surrender their children to slavery—all while trying to feed their families and pay oppressive Persian taxes. The unity of God’s people is being torn apart by greed and injustice, and Nehemiah recognizes that the real enemy is not the Babylonians or Persians, but the unchecked corruption among their own.

Ezekiel 36 unfolds as a stunning reversal of judgment. The Lord speaks directly to the mountains of Israel—once ravaged by foreign nations during Israel’s exile—and promises to restore their beauty and productivity. Unlike the judgment on Mount Seir, the message here is one of redemption. Israel’s land will flourish again, its people will return, and the shame brought on by foreign nations will be wiped away.

After chapters of human reasoning and heartfelt protest, the storm finally breaks—not merely around Job, but within him—as God Himself speaks. Until now, Job has heard from friends and one last passionate monologue from Elihu, but not from the Lord. Now God speaks—not to destroy, but to restore. From the whirlwind, He asks questions that pull Job’s gaze from his pain to the grandeur and mystery of creation.

E. Stanley Jones reminds us today that true abiding with Christ is not one-sided. He exposes the subtle danger of spiritual paternalism—the idea that we are always the ones being managed, guided, and shaped by a towering figure of authority who never lets us grow up. In contrast to this suffocating control, Jesus doesn’t hold us in spiritual dependency like a benevolent tyrant. He invites us into mutual fellowship.

The scene described in Leviticus 9 is breathtaking: Aaron and Moses, following the Lord’s precise commands, complete the sacrificial rituals and step into the tabernacle together. When they emerge and bless the people, the glory of the Lord appears—a radiant display of His presence made visible in light and fire. The people witness it and fall on their faces, overcome by awe and joy.

There’s something unspeakably tragic in watching a once-confident believer—once radiant with joy and peace—now burdened under the oppressive weight of fear and condemnation. What happened? According to A.B. Simpson, the enemy’s strategy is not primarily to tempt us into sin but to shake loose the anchor of our trust. If he can corrode our confidence in God’s goodness and sufficiency, he knows we’ll drift into confusion and inner collapse.

In today’s devotional, Bob Hoekstra brings to life the liberating truth embedded in Galatians 2:20—a verse that encapsulates the exchanged life in Christ. His teaching invites us to move beyond viewing the Christian life as something we must perform and instead embrace a grace-filled union in which Christ lives His life through us.

Oswald Chambers presses into a decisive question today: Have I come to a settled, moral decision about sin? He is not speaking about behavior modification or progressive improvement, but about a crisis point—a crossroad moment—where we see sin not as something to manage but something to crucify. Chambers references Romans 6:6, where Paul doesn’t theorize about sin’s defeat but declares it accomplished: our old self was crucified with Christ.

Today’s Abide Above presents a timely reminder in today’s entry that the Christian life is not shaped by the pursuit of experiences, but by the steady intake of truth. Experiences, while real and sometimes meaningful, are not the foundation of growth. In fact, when experience becomes the focus, spiritual discernment, maturity, and stability are often lacking.

Today's reflection unveils a crucial truth: to recognize Jesus as the Christ is not merely to acknowledge His identity—it is to recognize His commission. Saul’s immediate proclamation in the synagogues that this One is the Son of God was more than a change of mind; it was the result of a heavenly unveiling. What had been zealously resisted by Saul in his blindness became his clearest vision—Jesus is both Son of God and the Christ, God’s anointed and appointed One.

John 7 opens with tension mounting around Jesus. His brothers didn’t believe in Him, the Jewish leaders were looking to kill Him, and the crowds were deeply divided. Jesus remained obedient to the timing set by His Father, not swayed by public pressure or family opinion. He arrived privately to the Festival of Tabernacles, a joyous celebration of God’s provision in the wilderness and a prophetic picture of the coming Messianic blessings.

Paul’s heart opens wide in Ephesians 2 as he contrasts the believer’s past alienation with the present reality of union with Christ. The chapter begins with a sobering view of humanity’s default state—dead in transgressions, shaped by the world, Satan, and the flesh. This death wasn’t merely metaphorical; it was separation from the life of God, helpless to respond to Him and hostile to His ways. Yet into this spiritual death came the breathtaking interruption: “But God.” The entire gospel hinges on that contrast—God, motivated by love, mercy, and grace, makes us alive with Christ. We’ve been raised with Him, seated with Him, secured with Him. Salvation isn’t a reward; it’s a resurrection. It’s not our doing—it’s God’s gift, received through faith that He also supplies.

In today’s reading, E. Stanley Jones continues his reflections on the importance of mutual abiding: us in Christ and Christ in us. He emphasizes that abiding is not a one-way experience—it's a shared indwelling where life becomes truly fruitful. We draw all we need from Christ as we abide in Him, and He expresses His life through us as He abides in us. It’s not passivity, nor is it self-effort—it’s a divine union where His life flows naturally through ours.

In today’s reflection, Ray Stedman draws us into the symbolism of the priestly ordination ceremony in Leviticus 8. The strange but sacred ritual—placing blood on the ear, thumb, and toe of the priest—points to a life wholly touched by redemption. The ear set apart to hear God’s voice not as mere suggestion, but as the liberating word of a Redeemer. The hand consecrated to serve others in humility, knowing that we are not better than those we serve but equally in need of Christ’s continual cleansing. And the foot marked by grace, reminding us that our daily walk, though faltering at times, is carried by the blood of Christ and not by our merit. This passage calls us to listen with surrendered ears, to serve with humble hands, and to walk with grace-soaked steps. The priest’s ordination is not a symbol of superiority, but of total dependence—body, soul, and walk—on the finished work of Christ.