Genesis 3 reveals the sobering unraveling of humanity’s initial intimacy with God. Through a cunning twist of words, the serpent—more than just a creature—casts doubt on God’s character. He suggests that God is withholding something good. The woman is deceived, and the man follows passively. The result is the loss of innocence, a rupture of relational trust, and a world now marred by fear, blame, pain, and death.

Daniel’s vision in chapter 7 is a majestic panorama of both chaos and triumph. The first part of the vision shows four frightening beasts rising from the sea, representing the terrifying succession of human empires: Babylon, Medo-Persia, Greece, and Rome. These empires, although mighty in earthly terms, are beastly in nature—driven by power, dominance, and self-exaltation.

Psalm 15 begins a powerful sequence of psalms that together frame the posture and character of those who live in communion with God. As the entry point to this series, Psalm 15 sets the tone by asking the question: Who is qualified to dwell in God's presence? In the days of Israel, the answer pointed to the tabernacle or temple on God’s holy mountain, but now, under the New Covenant, we know that through faith in Christ, we have entered the true dwelling place of God—His presence, His family, His Kingdom.

E. Stanley Jones invites us to examine the root of spiritual stagnation: a misplaced focus. Some believers remain babes in Christ—not for lack of exposure to good teaching, but because their faith is tethered to those teachings instead of to Christ Himself. Jones observes that even rich doctrines and noble church movements—when detached from the living Person of Jesus—eventually run dry. Slogans once charged with meaning devolve into hollow catchphrases, defended more for tribal identity than transformative truth.

Today’s reflection from Ray Stedman invites us to see the ministry of prophecy not primarily as forecasting the future, but as the Spirit-given ability to make God’s truth shine into hearts. The word “prophecy” in its purest sense means to cause to shine, and in Acts 11 we see this luminous work in action. Agabus, led by the Holy Spirit, revealed the coming famine—an insight that moved the church in Antioch not into fear, but into Spirit-led compassion and preparation.

The body is not just a temporary shell or a hindrance to spiritual life—it is part of God’s redemptive plan. Today’s reflection from A.B. Simpson calls us to recognize that our physical bodies are meant for union with Christ just as much as our spirits. We were not created to indulge the flesh but to be filled with the very life of Jesus.

Obedience is not an outdated concept from the Old Covenant—it’s a vital expression of the life of Christ within every believer. The Scriptures consistently affirm God's desire for His children to walk in step with His will, not through fear or external conformity, but through the internal empowerment of grace. Moses, Samuel, and Peter each echoed the same call to obey, not as a demand imposed from without, but as a reality flowing from within.

Today’s reflection from Oswald Chambers brings us into the heart of prayer—not as a transaction, but as an overflow of our union with Christ. When Jesus says, “You will ask in My name,” He is not referring to a formulaic phrase that unlocks blessings, but to the intimate reality of being one with Him in nature and in Spirit.

Today’s reflection from Miles Stanford reminds us of the subtle but significant battle between two spiritual focal points—self or Christ. The enemy would have us obsessed with our inner condition: how we’re doing, how we’re feeling, how others are affecting us. But the Holy Spirit beckons us into something far more freeing: to be completely occupied with the risen and glorified Lord Jesus.

Today’s reflection from Witness Lee takes us back to the journey of the wise men. They had seen the star—a vision from God—and knew the King of the Jews had been born. But when left to their own reasoning, they assumed the child must be in Jerusalem, the capital, rather than trusting the light they had been given. Their natural assumptions led them not only off course but into danger. That misstep didn’t just disrupt their journey; it nearly led to the destruction of the very child they sought, and tragically, to the death of many innocents.

E. Stanley Jones gently confronts a widespread misunderstanding in today’s entry. Many of us think of “babes in Christ” as those who are brand-new believers—those still learning, still exploring the faith. But Paul’s words in 1 Corinthians 3 challenge that assumption. He uses this phrase not to describe recent converts but rather long-time believers who, despite their knowledge and activity, are still spiritually immature. What was the mark of their immaturity? Divided allegiance.

Today’s reflection by Ray Stedman takes us to a quiet, transitional moment in the life of Saul—soon to be known as Paul. After an initial flurry of post-conversion activity, he vanishes from the main storyline of Acts for nearly a decade. These hidden years were not wasted. Rather than pursuing platforms or recognition, Saul was being emptied of all he once prided himself on: religious pedigree, zealous drive, and spiritual credentials. In their place, he was learning something far more essential—how to rely entirely on Christ's life within him.

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.