Today’s reflection from E. Stanley Jones paints the stunning before-and-after of our spiritual rebirth. Before Christ, we were not just flawed—we were formless, void, and stumbling about in darkness. But the Holy Spirit did not leave us there. He hovered over the chaos of our lives and brought forth a miracle—order, purpose, light, and life. We didn’t just receive a moral touch-up or better habits. We became new. Entirely new.

T. Austin-Sparks directs our eyes to a deep spiritual principle: that God's resurrection power is not displayed until every human resource has utterly failed. It is not that we simply face hard situations; it is that we come to the end of ourselves. Sparks points out that God often allows the sentence of death to work in us—not to harm us, but to bring us into full dependence upon Him who raises the dead.

God’s guidance is often far simpler—and more personal—than we expect. In the church at Antioch, we don’t find drama or spectacle. We find faithful believers, quietly serving, using their spiritual gifts within the body. They were not waiting for a lightning bolt or a booming voice from heaven. They were worshiping, teaching, and fasting in community. It was in that setting—the ordinary rhythm of Spirit-led life—that the Holy Spirit spoke.

Today’s entry draws us into the quiet classroom of suffering—not as punishment, but as formation. A.B. Simpson reminds us that the God of all grace is shaping our hearts not despite our trials, but through them. The real curriculum isn’t hardship itself—it’s love. And not love as sentiment, but love as endurance, kindness, and Christlikeness under pressure.

The Lord’s promises don’t trail behind history—they unfold within it. Long before Bethlehem’s stable, God spoke through Isaiah about a coming King. He would not arise from royal luxury, but from what appeared to be a severed stump—Jesse’s line, cut down and forgotten. And yet from those roots, a living Rod would emerge. A Branch. A Servant. A King.

Oswald Chambers draws our attention to a sobering word from Jesus: “You will not get out until you have paid the last penny.”He’s not speaking about financial debt, but spiritual stubbornness—those quiet corners of the heart where we cling to self-justification, delay obedience, or resist reconciliation. Chambers reminds us that God’s love doesn’t overlook sin; it exposes it, not to shame us, but to liberate us.

Some lessons in life are for grown-ups only. Paul’s statement in Philippians 4:11—“I have learned, in whatever state I am, in this to be content”—isn’t elementary school faith. It’s graduate-level trust, formed in the fires of hardship and held steady by the hand of God. Today’s devotional from Miles Stanford invites us to walk the adult path of faith, where love for the Lord Jesus carries us through trials rather than around them.

Today’s devotional from Witness Lee traces the beautiful arc from Christ’s crucifixion (Passover) to His resurrection (the firstfruits), culminating in the outpouring of the Spirit on Pentecost—the full feast of the harvest. In typology, these Old Testament feasts weren't just ancient observances—they point directly to our lived experience in Christ. At Passover, we behold our Redeemer crucified as the spotless Lamb. Three days later, in the resurrection, we rejoice in the first sheaf of the harvest—a new life that cannot die. But Pentecost is the crowning moment. It’s when Christ, now ascended, pours out His Spirit on us—not in part, but as the complete and satisfying fullness of God’s life.

Genesis 14 shifts from the domestic and pastoral settings of Abram’s journey to an unexpected and chaotic battlefield. Lot, having chosen to dwell near Sodom, becomes collateral in a power struggle between regional kings. When the eastern alliance sweeps through Canaan to punish rebel kings, they capture Lot and his household. This draws Abram into the scene—not for power or prestige, but for family. Rallying 318 trained men, Abram overcomes an army far greater than his own.

Hosea 6 opens with a beautiful call to return to the Lord, written as if the people are finally recognizing their need to turn back to God after enduring the pain of exile and judgment. The prophet’s tone is hopeful—confident that restoration awaits on the other side of repentance. God does not wound to destroy; He wounds to heal. The image is one of resurrection, of being brought from death to life. It reflects both the historical longing for national restoration and the ultimate fulfillment in Christ, who was raised on the third day so that we too might live in the presence of God.

Psalm 26 gives voice to a heart living without duplicity—a life not flawless, but undivided. David is not presenting a résumé of perfection but offering up a soul of integrity, asking God to examine him closely. Whether he’s under false accusation, navigating conflict, or preparing to enter the temple, David’s focus remains the same: he walks in transparency before the Lord and anchors his confidence not in his own moral effort but in God’s covenant love and faithfulness.

E. Stanley Jones draws our attention to the miracle of the new birth, placing it alongside the creation of the universe and the incarnation of Christ. These three—creation, incarnation, and regeneration—stand as the great divine interventions in human history. The miracle of being made new in Christ isn't just a spiritual upgrade—it’s a radical transformation, a divine act that can’t be explained apart from God’s intervention.

There is a kind of listening that can only happen when everything else quiets down. Today’s devotional from Nic Harrison reminds us that the voice of God is not always found in dramatic displays or emotional upheavals. Instead, it is often heard in the quiet aftermath—when the soul ceases its striving and settles into silence.

There is no deeper union than the one we have with Christ through the Spirit. T. Austin-Sparks invites us to peer through the window of revelation and see that our connection with God is not built on human effort or natural capacity—it is entirely spiritual. This means it exists at the core of our identity, deeper than intellect, emotion, or behavior. We are, by new birth, one spirit with the Lord.

Paul’s prayer in Colossians 1:10 is beautifully comprehensive—it urges believers to live lives that reflect the worth of the One they belong to, to seek His pleasure in every aspect, and to overflow with Spirit-produced fruit in all that they do. This isn’t about striving to earn approval, but living from the deep awareness of who we already are in Christ.

The choices we make each day are not trivial—they reveal the deep currents of our hearts. Today’s devotional from A.B. Simpson reminds us that every decision steers us either toward the things of the Spirit or toward the gravitational pull of the world. It’s not merely about what we say aloud, or how spiritual our words sound, but about what we prefer. What we truly want is laid bare before the Lord.

God made a promise to David that his house and kingdom would be established forever—not just through a lineage of earthly kings, but through One eternal King: the Messiah. The words in 2 Samuel 7 reveal more than national hope for Israel; they unveil the heartbeat of God’s eternal plan to send His Son, Jesus, to reign forever. This kingdom isn’t like the ones of men that crumble and fade. This is a spiritual kingdom, rooted in righteousness, and destined never to end.

When Jesus urged us in Matthew 5:25 to “settle matters quickly with your adversary,” He wasn’t just offering practical advice to avoid conflict—He was calling us into the kind of heart posture that reflects His own: humble, yielded, and quick to restore. Oswald Chambers reminds us that delaying obedience—especially when we’re convinced to make something right—unleashes a slow but certain consequence that touches our spirit, our relationships, and our peace.

Miles Stanford doesn’t mince words. There can be no true experience of Christ’s life flowing through us apart from the Cross. The Cross is not merely Christ’s alone—it is also the doorway into a life where His Spirit can minister through us. Stanford reminds us that no form of church—no technique, no structure, no polished system—can substitute for a life shaped by the Cross. True ministry and true church life don’t emerge from patterns but from people in whom the Cross has done its deep, interior work.

Many believers rightly rejoice over forgiveness, over the cross, over heaven to come. But few recognize that the unique blessing of the gospel is not merely what Christ did for us but what He gives to us—Himself, through the Spirit. Pentecost marked not just the outpouring of power, but the giving of the all-inclusive Spirit—God's own fullness shared with His people.