The Grace and Truth Study Bible draws attention to Esther’s wisdom and restraint in chapter 5. Rather than charging forward with her request to save the Jewish people, she paces her approach carefully. She risks her life by entering the king’s court, but is met with favor. Instead of launching immediately into an appeal, she invites the king and Haman to a banquet—not once, but twice. These banquets prolong the tension and delay the climax, signaling something deeper: Esther is waiting on timing, not just opportunity.

Ezekiel 48 draws a final portrait of divine restoration. In sharp contrast to Israel’s fractured monarchy and the painful exile that followed, this chapter envisions a return to unity, peace, and divine order. God’s people are once again arranged according to their tribal inheritances, but notably, the monarchy is absent—this is not a political reformation but a spiritual one. At the very center of the land lies a sacred portion: a holy district that holds the temple, the priests, the Levites, the prince, and the city. This center is not only geographical but theological. It reflects a reordered nation built not on power, but on presence—God’s presence.

Psalm 8 is a breathtaking meditation on the splendor of God’s creation and the shocking honor bestowed upon humanity. The psalm begins and ends with adoration: “O LORD, our Lord, how majestic is Your name in all the earth!” This doxological bookend frames a central truth—though God’s glory transcends galaxies and angels, He has chosen to crown frail humanity with honor, dignity, and purpose.

E. Stanley Jones continues reflecting on the equal calling and potential fruitfulness of every believer in Christ. He draws from a stunning real-life event in post-WWII Japan: the emperor’s public renunciation of his supposed divinity. For centuries, Japanese citizens believed their emperor was a god—but in 1946, that belief was shattered. Not through political manipulation or military conquest, but through a quiet and strategic conversation between two men who knew that truth had the power to bring liberty.

Today’s devotional by Ray Stedman confronts us with the uniqueness of Jesus Christ—not as one among many wise teachers, but as the only One capable of transforming the human heart. While other religious leaders through history offered guidance, philosophy, or moral instruction, only Jesus Christ conquered death. Only Jesus is named by God as the cornerstone—unshakable, immovable, and eternally secure. His resurrection isn't just a proof of divinity; it is the very gateway to new life.

In today's reflection, A.B. Simpson invites us to behold the risen Christ not through the lens of sorrow, but through the brilliance of resurrection. When Jesus says, “I am He that lives and was dead,” He doesn’t simply declare a fact—He unveils a truth that transforms how we understand the Cross itself. Life, not death, is the beginning of His declaration. He lives, even before He was dead, and now He lives forevermore.

Many of us grew up learning to live by performance—earning approval, hiding weakness, managing appearances. That’s the essence of law-based living: it’s a system rooted in self-sufficiency. We do our best, we hide our worst, and when we start to slip, we put a veil over the fading glory. Moses did this quite literally. When the radiance on his face—evidence of his encounter with God—began to dim, he kept the veil in place. Not to protect others, but to protect his image.

Oswald Chambers invites us to a deeper understanding of our cooperation with God. While salvation and sanctification are fully God's work, Chambers challenges the passive mindset that waits for God to form our character and habits for us. The word “add” in 2 Peter 1:5 implies intentionality. We are to make conscious decisions that align with the life God has placed within us. This is not about striving in self-effort but about yielding in faith and responding actively to the Spirit’s prompting.

In our early days of walking with Christ—especially when still clinging to self-effort—we often avoid facing the truth about our sinful nature. It seems too shameful, too dangerous, too much to admit. But that fear is rooted in a misunderstanding of what the Cross has accomplished. The old nature—the entirety of our Adamic condition—was dealt with fully and finally at Calvary. God condemned it there, satisfied entirely in His judgment, and raised us up in Christ as new creations, forever separated from its penalty and power.

In today’s devotional by Witness Lee, we are reminded that the earthly nation of Israel still lives under a shadow of longing—deep dissatisfaction that cannot be remedied by political alliances, military strength, or human strategy. While the modern state of Israel seeks security and survival through natural means, Scripture reveals that the true famine is spiritual. Like the sons of Jacob who unknowingly bowed before their brother Joseph, Israel too will one day turn and behold the One they pierced.

Paul closes his letter with deep pastoral concern, practical instruction, and personal connection. He urges the Colossians to remain in devoted, alert, and thankful prayer—not as a ritual, but as a response to all they’ve already received in Christ. Prayer isn’t just a lifeline in trouble; it’s the abiding atmosphere of the believer’s new life, filled with gratitude and attentiveness.

John 19 is a sobering account of the trial, suffering, and crucifixion of Jesus, yet even amid the brutality, the sovereignty and composure of Christ shine through. Pilate's repeated efforts to release Jesus reflect a reluctant political pawn trapped by public outcry and his own fear. The Jewish leaders demand Jesus' execution under the guise of loyalty to Caesar, though their true motive is theological—they consider Jesus' claim to be the Son of God blasphemous. John carefully highlights how these events unfold in precise fulfillment of Scripture, right down to the division of Jesus' garments and the method of His burial.

E. Stanley Jones reflects on John 15:16 as a life verse that grounded his calling not just as a missionary, but as a Christian. He was reminded time and again that it was not he who chose Christ, but Christ who chose him—and not randomly, but with purpose: to go and bear fruit that lasts. Whenever he stood before a congregation, he bowed his head and declared this verse back to the Lord—not as a mantra of self-assurance, but as a recognition that all he did was at Christ’s commissioning. And if Christ sent him, then Christ would supply what was needed to fulfill that task.

Peter’s bold proclamation in Acts 3 comes on the heels of a miraculous healing—but it quickly pivots to a far greater miracle: the wiping out of sin. He invites his listeners to repent and turn to God, not merely for personal benefit, but so they might experience what he calls times of refreshing—spiritual awakening, societal renewal, and eventually, the return of Christ.

On the morning of His resurrection, Jesus met the women at the tomb with a greeting that sounds simple but holds a deeper meaning: “All hail.” At first glance, it might seem like a cheerful “hello,” but A. B. Simpson tells us the root of that word reaches into something much richer—an old Saxon word for health. His greeting wasn’t just polite; it was life-giving.

In today’s reflection, Bob Hoekstra contrasts the “substantial glory” of the old covenant law with the “excelling glory” of the new covenant grace. The law was indeed glorious—it revealed the holy character of God and exposed the unholiness of man. But that glory, though real, was passing. It functioned like a skilled diagnostician, pointing out the disease of sin, but offering no cure.

Today’s reflection from Abide Above strikes at the root of a common but deeply misplaced hope—the belief that our old nature can somehow be improved. He points to both Scripture and our lived experience as witnesses to a sobering truth: there is nothing redeemable in our flesh. Romans 7:18 states plainly, “In me (that is, in my flesh) dwelleth no good thing.” The sooner we agree with this truth, the sooner we can stop striving for what cannot be fixed and begin to live from the Source who is our righteousness—Christ Himself.

Oswald Chambers urges us to distinguish between an ideal and a vision. Ideals, he says, are often detached from moral drive—they can remain lofty thoughts, admired from a distance but never truly lived. But a vision of God awakens something deeper. It calls us to more than admiration; it invites us into transformation.

In a world marked by spiritual famine, Genesis 42 gives us a vivid picture of where true satisfaction is found. The passage speaks of a literal famine so widespread that all nations came to Joseph in Egypt to buy grain. Pharaoh's instruction was simple: "Go to Joseph." This ancient scene becomes a prophetic picture, pointing forward to Christ as the only true source of life-giving nourishment.

In this pivotal chapter, the Grace and Truth Study Bible expositor reveals the hidden yet sovereign hand of God working through the courage and obedience of His people. The Jewish people, scattered and vulnerable in Persia, are thrust into a crisis by a royal edict calling for their destruction. Mordecai’s distress is immediate and public, expressed through sackcloth, ashes, and lament. Esther, initially unaware of the decree, is drawn into the moment’s urgency through Mordecai’s plea. But the tension rises—Esther hesitates. Approaching the king uninvited could cost her life.