Oswald Chambers gently exposes a tension in our relationship with God—our hesitancy to ask. Not because God withholds, but because our pride resists recognizing our true state: spiritual poverty apart from Him. We wait until desperation breaks our self-sufficiency before asking. Yet even then, Chambers clarifies, asking isn’t about groveling for provision like a stranger at the gate. It is about entering the intimacy of sonship—where what we need is already stored up for us, and asking simply brings us into alignment with our dependence on Him.

Today’s reflection by Miles Stanford invites us to embrace a divine paradox: the path to fruitfulness often travels through the valley of pruning. Many believers, stirred by a glimpse of deeper intimacy with Christ, mistakenly assume they’ve arrived at spiritual fullness. But that foretaste is only the beginning—a whisper of what the Spirit longs to unfold.

In today’s devotional by Witness Lee, we are invited to lift our eyes beyond familiar truths about salvation and to gaze upon something even grander: God’s eternal purpose. Many believers rightly rejoice in the saving name of Jesus but pause there, unaware of the deeper work that God is accomplishing through Christ. Scripture paints a greater picture—one in which God is not only redeeming people but building a dwelling place for Himself.

In 1 Timothy 3, Paul outlines the character and qualifications of those called to lead the household of God. Rather than requiring a mystical divine calling, Paul affirms the nobility of aspiring to be an overseer. What follows is a set of character-based qualifications—not rooted in perfection but in integrity. The elder must be a one-woman man, not shaped by the cultural norms of permissive sexuality but aligned with God's original design for marital fidelity.

Acts 9 opens with Saul’s fierce opposition to followers of Jesus. Fueled by religious zeal, he’s hunting down those who walk in “the Way,” aiming to silence the growing movement. But God interrupts Saul’s path—not with destruction, but with light and purpose. On the Damascus road, Saul’s entire life is reversed. Though struck blind and disoriented, he is led by the hand into a city where the Lord begins reshaping him into His chosen instrument.

In one of the most hope-filled passages in Scripture, Paul reminds the Corinthians—and us—of the power of God's grace to transform even the most sin-stained lives. The list of sins in 1 Corinthians 6 is sobering, not just for its content but because we all, in some form or another, have walked those crooked paths. Yet Paul doesn’t end with condemnation—he offers the glorious truth: “Such were some of you.” Past tense. A different story now unfolds.

Today’s reflection from Ray Stedman invites us into the heart of true emotional rest—the kind that flows from a conscience made clean by the forgiveness of Christ and kept clear by extending that same forgiveness to others. Ray Stedman draws our attention to a pattern common to all believers: the inner unease that grows when guilt and resentment linger. He calls these the two “monsters” of fear and guilt—dragons that consume peace and stir emotional turmoil.

Today's reflection from Bob Hoekstra continues from Hebrews 13:20–21, focusing on the beautiful reality that it is God Himself—the God of peace—who equips us for every good work. In the previous entry, we rejoiced that His peace was made possible through the shed blood of Christ, which not only reconciles us to God but also inaugurates the new covenant of grace. That covenant becomes the basis for how we now live—by receiving His provision moment by moment.

God doesn’t treat every person the same way because His purposes for each of us are unique. The farmer knows the difference between bluegrass and wheat and adjusts his methods accordingly—just as God, in infinite wisdom and tenderness, adjusts His refining process for each soul He calls for special use.

Today’s devotional from Oswald Chambers reminds us that obedience is the key to spiritual growth and clarity. Oswald Chambers draws from John 13:17 to show that blessing doesn’t come from merely knowing truth but from doing it. There is a spiritual fog that settles over us when we delay obedience—when we know what God is asking, yet we hesitate. That hesitation slowly turns into a harbor where we remain tied up, reluctant to launch out into the deeper waters of God’s purpose.

Today’s reflection from Miles Stanford draws us back to the true purpose of Scripture—not as a book to be mastered intellectually, but as a portal into the heart of Christ Himself. The Word was never meant to be an academic subject or a religious obligation. It was given so we might know the One who is the Word—our High Priest, our Life, our All.

Today’s devotional from Witness Lee celebrates the unshakable, all-sufficient name of Jesus Christ—the only name under heaven by which we are saved. Far more than a word we speak or a title we revere, His name is inseparable from His person. And this Person, the Stone-Savior, is not only the cornerstone of our salvation but also the solid, reliable foundation of our daily walk.

Genesis 6 opens with an unsettling descent into moral and spiritual corruption on a global scale. What began as a world created “very good” is now marred by a toxic mix of rebellion, perversion, and violence. The intermarriage between the “sons of God” and “daughters of men” has long been debated—whether these were fallen angelic beings, corrupt kings, or the blending of Seth’s godly lineage with Cain’s rebellious line. Regardless of the view, the heart of the matter is clear: sin had thoroughly saturated humanity.

Daniel 10 begins the final vision of the book and introduces a deeply personal moment between Daniel and heaven’s messenger. Though the vision spans chapters 10–12, the opening in chapter 10 sets the tone: Daniel has been in mourning and prayer for three weeks. When the vision arrives, he is physically overwhelmed by its glory and weight.

Psalm 18 serves as David's grand song of deliverance, recounted both here and in 2 Samuel 22. It memorializes God's covenant faithfulness as David reflects on decades of divine rescue. The psalm opens with David’s passionate praise for God as his secure refuge—his fortress, deliverer, and shield. This vivid imagery portrays God as unshakable and intimate: not just a rescuer but David's strength and stronghold. David recalls overwhelming trials where death seemed certain, likening them to flash floods and snares—but in those moments, God responded with overwhelming power and majesty.

E. Stanley Jones draws our attention to Paul’s phrase, “my ways in Christ” (1 Corinthians 4:17), and expands it beyond the personal to the communal. Just as individuals may walk out their life in Christ uniquely, so too may groups, fellowships, and yes—even denominations. While some might see denominations as divisive or even sinful, Jones sees in them a deeper intention: the longing to illuminate neglected aspects of Christ’s fullness.

Ray Stedman brings us to a tender and overlooked truth: God cares deeply for our bodies. Jesus Himself began His model prayer not with abstract theology or spiritual warfare but with something profoundly ordinary—daily bread. In doing so, He lifted the mundane into the sacred.

Today’s devotiona from A.B. Simpsonl reflects on the spiritual paradox of emptiness and fullness—how God meets surrendered lack with divine sufficiency. Using the Exodus promise that the Israelites would not leave Egypt empty-handed, it draws a spiritual parallel: when we are emptied of self, God fills us with Himself.

Today’s reflection from Bob Hoekstra centers on the truth that obedience isn’t something we muster from ourselves—it is the fruit of what the God of peace works into us through the finished work of Jesus Christ. We were once alienated, enemies of God by nature, incapable of pleasing Him, much less obeying Him. But now, by the blood of the eternal covenant, the same God who raised Jesus from the dead has made a way for us to walk in His will—not by striving, but by sufficiency.

Today, Oswald Chambers draws our hearts toward the interior life—the quiet, often hidden life of abiding in Christ. He invites us to consider whether our spiritual energies are being dispersed or concentrated around the atoning work of Jesus. His core question is simple yet piercing: Am I remaining in Christ, or am I slacking off in my union with Him?