Today’s devotional by Witness Lee opens Matthew’s Gospel with a striking declaration: Jesus Christ, the son of David, the son of Abraham. With just two names, God’s Spirit connects Christ to a sweeping legacy of promise and fulfillment.

We’ve all said it at some point:
“Lord, I need more patience.”
“More love.”
“More peace.”

But Scripture says something far more astonishing—and freeing.
You don’t need more.
You already have Christ.
And in Him, you have everything.

Esther 8 presents the culmination of God’s unseen providence working through willing vessels. Though Haman’s initial edict to annihilate the Jews could not be reversed due to Persian law, the king—moved by Esther’s plea—authorized Mordecai to write a new decree. This counter-edict empowered the Jews to defend themselves across all 127 provinces of the Persian empire.

Daniel 3 captures the tension between earthly power and spiritual allegiance. Nebuchadnezzar, having previously dreamed of an image with a golden head, defies the divine message by constructing an image entirely of gold—an act of pride and rebellion. The king demands universal worship of the image, and those who refuse are sentenced to death in a furnace. Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego resist, knowing the God they serve is worthy of worship even if deliverance does not come.

Psalm 11 invites us into the tension of human fear and divine refuge. David is presented with two voices: one that urges flight when chaos threatens to collapse all moral foundations, and another that steadies him in the certainty of God’s sovereign presence. The foundations—those pillars of righteousness, truth, and justice—may be crumbling around him, but God is not absent or passive. He is enthroned in heaven, fully aware, just in judgment, and righteous in His love.

In today’s reflection, E. Stanley Jones points us to Paul’s declaration in 1 Corinthians 1:5: “that in every way you were enriched in him.” It’s a bold, sweeping statement—not confined to spiritual matters alone, but embracing every part of what makes us human. Jones asks the critical question: does religion enrich or impoverish a person’s humanity? He then considers various religious systems—Islam, Hinduism, Buddhism, Mysticism—and shows how each ultimately stifles or weakens the full expression of human life when followed to its end.

The early disciples were not disheartened by suffering. Instead, they rejoiced — not because the pain was pleasant, but because they were counted worthy to bear dishonor for the Name of Jesus. They didn’t retreat, didn’t stay quiet, and didn’t second-guess their calling. Day after day, from public places to private homes, they continued boldly proclaiming Christ.

Jeremiah’s words cut through the illusion of independence: “a man’s way is not his own.” That is not a judgment, but a gift—an invitation to relinquish the exhausting burden of self-direction and self-effort. In today’s devotional, A.B. Simpson points us back to the beauty of union with Christ, reminding us that Jesus is not merely our example, but our indwelling life. He didn’t come to leave us with a model to follow in our own strength; He came to be Himself in us.

Ministry grounded in grace demands integrity. In this devotional, Bob Hoekstra warns against manipulative or deceitful ministry practices—methods that often operate in secret and appeal to fleshly desires or pride. These may gain attention or applause, but they do not align with the heart of God.

Oswald Chambers pulls no punches in exposing one of the most subtly accepted lies among believers: the idea that we somehow live in spiritual poverty when, in fact, we have inherited all the riches of God through Christ. The phrase “I can’t afford it”—whether financially or spiritually—is not humility; it’s a denial of our divine inheritance. This devotional invites us to form the habit of recognizing God's provision—not only mentally but practically, as those who participate in His divine nature through His promises.

If we were asked to write the opening lines of the biography of the Son of God, most of us would have chosen to highlight the noble lineage, the spiritual champions, and the righteous ancestors. We would have combed through the genealogical record and polished the names that brought honor to the line of Christ. But the Holy Spirit, who authored Scripture, did just the opposite.

Today’s reflection from Miles Stanford invites us to see ministry not as a measure of public productivity, but as the quiet overflow of Christ’s life within us. In a world that equates influence with visibility, we’re reminded that the most Christ-honoring service often goes unnoticed. But it is not unseen.

Paul’s heart for the Thessalonian believers flows like a current beneath every word in this chapter. The exposition reveals a layered movement of love, concern, reassurance, and prayer. Though separated physically from the Thessalonians and grieved by their suffering, Paul doesn’t merely lament. He sends Timothy to strengthen and encourage them—to see whether their faith has held firm in the face of persecution. And it has. Timothy returns with a report not only of their steadfast faith and love, but also their deep affection for Paul. This news revives Paul’s spirit.

Luke’s second volume, the book of Acts, continues the story of Jesus—not as a closed chapter, but as an ongoing reality through His Spirit-empowered people. The Gospel of Luke captured what Jesus began to do; Acts captures what He continues to do.

Without the book of Acts, our understanding of the New Testament would be significantly impoverished. Acts serves as a vital bridge between the Gospels and the Epistles, giving us the context for Paul’s ministry, the expansion of the early church, and the inclusion of Gentiles in the body of Christ. Authored by Luke, the beloved physician and companion of Paul, this sequel to the Gospel of Luke lays out a detailed historical and theological account of how the gospel spread from Jerusalem to Rome. It's not merely history—it is theological history, showing God's plan unfolding through Spirit-led disciples who acted in obedience to Christ's commission.

God’s grace is not a general kindness floating in the cosmos—it is defined, shaped, and manifested in the person of Jesus Christ. While God’s love is universal, His grace cannot be distributed apart from the truth of His own character. And that character has been fully revealed in Jesus. So while it may seem generous for grace to be extended through other avenues—through idols, ideas, or efforts apart from Christ—it would actually violate the very nature of God. He cannot express grace in ways that contradict His own holiness and truth. If He did, He would misrepresent Himself and deceive the recipient about what is truly good.

Acts 5:12–14 recounts a surge of miraculous healings and signs performed through the apostles. This extraordinary manifestation of divine power drew awe and reverence, resulting in more men and women believing in the Lord and being added to the church. The scene recalls the days of Jesus’ earthly ministry, but as Ray Stedman’s devotional rightly clarifies, these miracles were specific to the apostles—affirming their foundational role in the early church.

We often rejoice in what we’ve already received from God—salvation, peace, daily grace. But today’s reflection from A.B. Simpson challenges us to take a deeper inventory: are there places in our lives still unyielded, unoccupied by the presence of the Holy Spirit?

God has not called us to a ministry grounded in merit or personal qualification. Instead, He has drawn us into a service marked by mercy and grace—originating in His compassion and carried out by His supply. The apostle Paul reminds us that our ministry flows from mercy: we were not worthy, but we were forgiven, cleansed, and brought near. Not only that, but we were also entrusted with Kingdom work, not because of our accomplishments but because of His mercy.

Oswald Chambers reminds us that salvation is not merely a divine transaction that secures our place in heaven—it is the beginning of a lifelong unveiling of Christ through us. The purpose of our salvation is not to retreat into ease, but to rise into Christ’s expression. Our calling is clear: that the Son of God might be seen in our lives.