Stephen’s defense before the Sanhedrin begins not with argument but with a sweeping retelling of Israel’s history—a bold move, not to excuse himself but to expose the tragic consistency of their rejection. From Abraham to Moses to the prophets, Stephen outlines the story of how the people of God repeatedly turned away from the ones sent to deliver them. The undercurrent of his speech points to Jesus as the ultimate Deliverer—rejected like Joseph, opposed like Moses, yet exalted and glorified by God. When Stephen speaks of the temple, he subtly shifts the focus: God cannot be confined to buildings. His presence is not boxed in by walls of stone, and neither is His movement.

In this heartfelt reflection, E. Stanley Jones reminds us that only the pure, undiluted gospel of Jesus Christ births new life. Philosophies may stir minds, and religious practices may shape habits—but only the gospel brings dead hearts to life. When the pastor first shared moral teachings or examples of Jesus' kindness, the dying woman couldn’t receive them. They felt out of reach—meant for “better people.” But when he finally proclaimed Jesus crucified for sinners, something awakened in her. “That’s for the likes of me,” she said.

Today’s reflection from Ray Stedman invites us to reconsider what true prayer really is—not the words we say or the posture we assume, but the heart with which we come. In Jesus’ parable, the tax collector doesn’t even try to defend or soften his condition. He doesn’t appeal to his sincerity, honesty, or even his desire to change. He simply says, “God, be merciful to me, the sinner.” That’s the whole of it. He brings nothing but need—and finds everything in the mercy of God.

The devotional for today from A.B. Simpson brings us face to face with a truth so simple it’s often overlooked: the way we began in Christ is the way we are meant to continue. Many believers understand the moment of salvation—when they trusted in Jesus alone to rescue them from sin and death. But something often shifts after that. Instead of continuing in that same trust, we begin to strive, to labor, to try harder. We know Christ saved us, but we subtly start acting as though we are responsible for maintaining the Christian life in our own strength.

Today’s devotional from Bob Hoekstra reminds us that true obedience doesn’t spring from our best intentions or self-effort—it flows from the indwelling Spirit of God. We were never designed to walk in God’s ways by sheer willpower. Instead, God promised something far more beautiful: He would place His own Spirit within us and cause us to walk in His statutes.

Oswald Chambers invites us to consider what truly occupies our inner attention. We may say we’re not haunted by anything, but in reality, we’re often preoccupied with ourselves—our fears, regrets, achievements, or spiritual highs and lows. Chambers challenges us to shift our focus entirely onto the presence of God, letting Him be the central consciousness of our lives.

A.W. Tozer reminds us that God is eternal—not just as a philosophical truth, but as a deeply comforting reality for our daily lives. God is not subject to time. He has no beginning and no end. He sees all of history—including your life story—simultaneously. That’s not just mind-stretching; it’s soul-settling.

Time feels like both a gift and a burden. One day we’re counting down to a long-awaited moment; the next, we’re wondering where the years went. But no matter how we experience time, God never does.

Today’s devotional centers on God’s eternity—not just that He lasts forever, but that He exists outside of time itself. Time flows from Him, not the other way around. He sees the end from the beginning because, to Him, there is no before or after—only an eternal “now.”

Today’s reflection from Miles Stanford invites us to gaze at the Cross—not only as the symbol of God’s love for sinners but as the ongoing revelation of that love in the life of every believer. The Cross is not only what saved us—it’s what continues to shape us into the likeness of Christ.

Repentance is more than emotion—it is transformation at the deepest level of our thoughts. When John the Baptist cried, “Repent, for the kingdom of the heavens has drawn near,” he wasn’t calling for momentary remorse but for a foundational shift in how people thought, reasoned, and lived. The Greek word for “repent” literally means to change one’s mind.

If you’ve ever tried to hold things together when your world was unraveling—this devotional is for you.

Today’s post reflects on the self-sufficiency of God and what that means when real life presses in. Whether you’re navigating grief, exhaustion, family burdens, or pressure to be “enough,” you’re invited to stop drawing from your own supply and rest in His.

In a world that constantly demands more of us, this truth offers relief: God lacks nothing.
He doesn't need fuel, updates, backup plans, or help from us. He is eternally complete—always full in wisdom, joy, strength, and love.

This is the doctrine of God's self-sufficiency—a truth that liberates us from trying to be enough.

Genesis 4 continues the human story in the wake of the Fall, where the creation blessing of children is intertwined with the sobering consequences of sin. Eve gives birth to Cain, whose name reflects her sense of shared creativity with God, and Abel, whose name portends the fragility of life. Their early lives culminate in an altar scene, where God accepts Abel’s offering but not Cain’s, revealing God's concern for the heart, not just the act. Cain's reaction exposes jealousy and unrepentance, even in the face of God’s invitation to master the sin crouching at his door. Rather than yielding, Cain kills his brother, and God confronts him with a question that echoes down through Scripture: "Where is your brother?" Cain’s defensive retort, "Am I my brother’s keeper?" contrasts sharply with the Gospel's call to sacrificial love.

Daniel’s vision in chapter 8 unveils another layer of God’s sovereign orchestration of human history. In a symbolic vision, Daniel saw a powerful ram—representing the Medo-Persian empire—charging with confidence, unchallenged. But then, a goat—symbolizing Greece—struck the ram with incredible speed and fury. Its prominent horn (Alexander the Great) shattered, only for four lesser horns to rise in its place. Out of one of these came a "little horn," later identified historically as Antiochus IV Epiphanes, whose pride and cruelty would devastate Israel and desecrate God’s sanctuary.

Psalm 16 is a declaration of trust, delight, and confidence. David doesn’t just seek safety in God—he expresses a deep, satisfying joy in knowing Him. He delights in the company of fellow believers and finds sorrow in idolatry. The Lord is not just his protector but also his portion, the one who defines his inheritance and shapes his inner life. David compares God's presence to an abundant land passed down through generations—rich, beautiful, and secure.

Today’s reflection by E. Stanley Jones draws a sharp but loving contrast between those who merely guide believers and those who become spiritual fathers—those who, through their union with Christ, participate in His creative life to birth new life in others.

Today’s reflection invites us to reconsider the heart of prayer. Ray Stedman challenges a common misunderstanding of Jesus’ parable in Luke 18—that God is somehow reluctant, requiring persistent nagging or spiritual blackmail to get Him to act. Nothing could be further from the truth. Our God is not an unjust judge, but a loving Father who responds swiftly—not always with the outcome we expect, but with the comfort of His presence, guidance, and care.

Today’s reflection from A.B. Simpson invites us to reconsider what it means to live righteously—not by striving to fulfill the law ourselves, but by allowing the indwelling Christ to fulfill it in us. Simpson highlights a common mistake: believing that since perfection is impossible, pursuing godliness is futile. But the exchanged life does not call us to try harder—it calls us to trust deeper.

Today’s devotional by Bob Hoekstra lifts our eyes to one of the most breathtaking promises of the New Covenant: the gift of a new heart and a new spirit. Ezekiel 36:26 is not just a future hope—it is a present reality for all who are in Christ. The Old Covenant laid out God’s righteous standard, but man’s best efforts consistently fell short. Even with zeal and verbal commitment, Israel's attempts at obedience ended in rebellion. Something more was needed—something only God could give.

Today’s reflection from Oswald Chambers begins with a hauntingly honest question from God to Ezekiel: “Can these bones live?” Chambers presses us to ask this not only of the world around us but of ourselves. Can what is broken be made whole? Can a soul twisted by sin be straightened into the likeness of Christ? The staggering truth: only God knows—and only God can.