Today’s reflection from A.B Simpson draws our gaze to the unfathomable humility of Jesus—God the Son, who willingly laid aside every right, every privilege, and every measure of divine independence to live as a servant. He who from eternity commanded the hosts of heaven chose the posture of submission. His obedience wasn’t reluctant—it was perfect, joyful, and uninterrupted. He lived every moment under the will of the Father, not claiming the liberty to please Himself but yielding completely to Another’s pleasure.

Today’s reflection from Bob Hoekstra turns our attention away from what our eyes naturally gravitate toward—our current afflictions, the observable details of life—and reorients us toward eternal, unseen realities. Though our earthly troubles may weigh heavily, the apostle Paul dares to call them “light” because of what they produce: an eternal weight of glory. But this transformation isn’t automatic. It happens while we shift our gaze.

Today’s reflection from Oswald Chambers draws us to a rarely discussed shift in the spiritual life—a moment not defined by answered questions, but by the absence of them. Chambers meditates on Jesus’ words in John 16:23, where He promises a day when His followers will no longer ask Him anything. This is not a rejection of our desire to understand, but a revelation of a deeper reality: the indwelling resurrection life of Christ brings such a union with the Father that the need to ask fades.

So often in the early stages of our Christian journey, we live as though Christ came down merely to walk beside us and make life easier here. But as we grow in grace, we come to see the deeper truth: we were raised with Him. We now reside—spiritually and positionally—with Christ in the heavenlies. We don’t need to strain to bring Christ into our earthly moments; rather, we are called to live from our heavenly union with Him.

Today's reflection from Witness Lee highlights a sobering truth: it is entirely possible to be surrounded by Scripture, tradition, and religious practice—and still miss the living Christ. At the time of Jesus’ birth, the Jewish religious leaders had the Scriptures and the temple. They had the history, the promises, and the expectation. But when Christ actually came, they didn’t recognize Him.

Paul addresses a growing concern among the Thessalonian believers: the fear that the “day of the Lord” had already come. Alarmed by rumors and even forged letters, they were shaken, wondering if they had somehow missed the return of Christ. Paul reassures them—certain events must take place first. There will be rebellion and the revealing of the man of lawlessness, a figure empowered by Satan to deceive and oppose God. But his end is certain. Christ will destroy him simply by His breath.

Acts 5 opens with a chilling story of pretense before God—Ananias and Sapphira's fatal lie. It’s not that they withheld some money, but that they presented themselves as more generous than they were, seeking approval from others while secretly deceiving the Spirit-indwelt church. Their deaths marked God’s holy displeasure toward self-promotion that disregards His presence.

When life weighs heavily and everything feels like it’s on your shoulders, it’s easy to forget who’s actually holding the universe together. In today’s devotional, we take the next step from God’s self-existence to the comforting truth that His independence means our dependence is secure. He doesn’t need us, yet He sustains us. He doesn’t grow tired, yet He invites us to rest.

We often think of love in human terms—needing someone, depending on them, or gaining something from them. But divine love is different. In today’s devotional, we look at the self-existence of God—the truth that He depends on no one and no thing. He is the great I AM, eternally complete, lacking nothing.

E. Stanley Jones opens our eyes to a stunning truth: redemption doesn’t merely rescue us from evil—it transforms even our good. Before anything can be truly redeemed, it must be revealed for what it is—limited, fallible, and often subtly warped by ego. Righteousness, wisdom, sanctification—all these wonderful virtues, when driven by self, end up failing us. They become a performance rather than a person. But in Christ, they are not discarded—they are fulfilled.

Today’s reflection from Ray Stedman invites us to look beyond the reputation of a man and into the inner disposition shaped by Christ within him. When Gentile believers began coming to Christ in large numbers, the church at Jerusalem wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. The Holy Spirit had broken through their cultural expectations and was moving powerfully in Antioch, and someone needed to discern whether this was of God. So they sent Barnabas.

Today’s devotional by Bob Hoekstra invites us to see earthly afflictions not as obstacles but as instruments of grace, shaping us for eternal glory. Paul, writing from a life marked by suffering, calls them “light” and “momentary”—not because they’re easy, but because of what they produce: “a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory” (2 Corinthians 4:17).

Today’s reflection from A.B. Simpson draws from Isaiah’s majestic prophecy, centering on the divine gift of Jesus Christ—our Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, and Prince of Peace. But it presses deeper than a title. It unveils where true rest is found.

Oswald Chambers points us to a pivotal truth often overlooked: the Holy Spirit is not a distant hope or a delayed promise but the present reality of the ascended Christ dwelling within us now. Too often, we mistakenly separate the indwelling of the Spirit from the Person of Jesus. But Scripture unites them inseparably—the gift of the Holy Spirit is the very life of Christ manifesting in us.

Today’s reflection by Miles Stanford invites me to slow down—intentionally, prayerfully—and walk at the pace of grace. In a world that rushes, God never hurries. His movements are deliberate because His work is finished. He’s not racing to complete something—He’s unfolding it step by step in those who walk by His Spirit.

Today’s reflection from Witness Lee contrasts the knowing and the seeking. At the time of Jesus’ birth, the religious establishment had the Scriptures, the temple, and centuries of tradition. Yet when the promised Messiah came, they remained unmoved. Meanwhile, a group of Gentile magi—outsiders in every cultural and religious sense—set off on a long journey not because of a command, but because of a light.

Genesis 2 offers a more intimate portrait of creation than Genesis 1. While the first chapter speaks with grandeur about God's power and order in forming the cosmos, Genesis 2 brings us into a quieter, more personal space. Here, God is not merely commanding light and sky into being; He is shaping, breathing, planting, and forming with His hands. Creation is not only majestic but relational. The focus narrows to humankind: formed from the dust, animated by divine breath, and placed into a garden already prepared for them. Work is not punishment but sacred vocation. The first man is entrusted with care and protection, roles reminiscent of the duties given to priests.

Daniel 6 is a breathtaking picture of steadfastness under pressure. Darius, the new Medo-Persian ruler, recognized Daniel’s integrity and gave him authority, which stirred up envy among the other officials. They could find no fault in Daniel’s work, so they targeted his faith. With devious intent, they lured the king into signing an irrevocable decree that outlawed prayer to anyone but the king for 30 days—knowing full well Daniel would not comply.

E. Stanley Jones gently exposes the hidden disease within even our noblest efforts: the unsurrendered self. Wisdom, righteousness, and even sanctification—good things in themselves—can be corrupted when self sits at the center. A mind filled with knowledge but devoid of surrender is still ruled by ego. A pursuit of righteousness that depends on personal attainment becomes pride cloaked in piety. And sanctification that fixates on external separations can subtly whisper, “I am better,” rather than, “Christ is all.”

The heart of today’s devotional from Ray Stedman beats with the final and glorious truth of the gospel: we are forgiven—completely, unchangeably, and eternally—in Jesus Christ. Ray Stedman reminds us that every prophet pointed toward this reality, that through Christ alone, we receive the one thing our hearts need most: forgiveness.