Today’s reading from Nick Harrison centers on the quiet but costly power of a broken will—of surrendering not just our decisions but the very engine of self-direction that propels us through life. C.H. Mackintosh draws a striking contrast between the youthful Peter—driven, impulsive, self-willed—and the older Peter—guided, yielded, and willing to go where he once would not.

To be part of God’s covenant people is to be more than chosen or forgiven—it is to be befriended. Today’s devotional from Nick Harrison draws us into the rich biblical truth that God has always desired intimate fellowship with His people. From the earliest promise in Eden, God declared enmity with the serpent, implying friendship with mankind through the coming seed.

Paul’s words in Galatians 2:20 are not merely poetic—they are powerfully practical. E. Stanley Jones lifts this verse out of the Galatian controversy and places it before us not as theological debate, but as a lived reality. The issue wasn’t just justification by faith—it was identity. Is Christ enough, or must something be added? And if Christ is enough, what does it mean to live in that truth?

There are things in the Christian life that only become truly ours through suffering. T. Austin-Sparks shares that those who pass quick judgment on a ministry or fellow believer often do so because they have not borne the cost of laboring in love for that soul or that work. Criticism flows easily when we stand outside of something. But when we’ve been joined to it through tears, prayer, and suffering, our perspective changes entirely.

Paul, bold as we often imagine him, was afraid. The Lord didn’t scold him for his fear—He spoke directly into it. In a night vision, Jesus said, “Stop being afraid… keep on speaking… I am with you… no one will harm you… I have many people in this city.” The Lord didn’t just give comfort—He gave clarity: Paul wasn’t alone, and his work wasn’t in vain

The invitation to consecration isn’t earned by striving or spiritual performance—it’s entered through faith. A.B. Simpson reminds us that the believer’s surrender to God is sealed not by feelings or personal effort, but by trusting the already-given promises of God. We do not need to work up our acceptance or our sanctification. Instead, we take it by faith as already granted in Christ and boldly confess it as our present possession.

Jesus did not say He would build His church on Peter the man, but on the bedrock truth Peter confessed—that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the living God. This declaration, revealed not by human wisdom but by the Father, is the foundation upon which all who receive eternal life stand. Christ is not merely a component of the church’s structure; He is the structure. He is the cornerstone, the unshakable foundation.

Oswald Chambers draws our attention away from personal spiritual progress as an end in itself and redirects it toward God’s greater intention—the building up of the Body of Christ into the fullness of Christ. Redemption is not just an individual experience; it is the opportunity for divine restoration of all humanity into right relationship with God through Jesus Christ. We were never meant to cultivate our own private sanctuaries of spiritual growth. Christ’s indwelling life in us is meant to express itself both personally and corporately.

Today’s devotional from Miles Stanford calls us to see the drastic difference between law-based living and grace-based living. Under law, right conduct was demanded first—position or blessing had to be earned. But in Christ, the entire order has been reversed. By grace, we have been given an exalted position first—we are already seated with Christ in the heavenlies. And from that secure seat, right conduct becomes the natural outflow of our new life.

The Holy Spirit was first breathed into the disciples in John 20, and then poured out upon them in Acts 2. These two moments are not contradictory, but complementary—together revealing the fullness of the Spirit's ministry: His indwelling presence and His empowering presence.

In a deeply personal letter written in 1869, missionary John McCarthy shared a revelation that would go on to reshape the spiritual experience of J. Hudson Taylor—and through him, countless others. He had been striving hard to live a holy life, painfully aware of his shortcomings, always longing for more consistent communion with Christ. But the harder he tried, the more elusive that intimacy seemed.

The psalmist reminds us that anxious toil yields little for the soul who is already beloved by God. Donald Barnhouse shares a deeply personal transformation: he went from mentally rehearsing unsolved problems at bedtime to entering into communion with Christ. What began as a mental discipline—choosing to think about Christ—grew into a spiritual awakening, one where Jesus became more real than the dark behind closed eyes.

Whenever I hear a line like, “We are not trying to earn His approval or secure His affection. We are simply receiving what He already gave: the gift of Himself, given freely through faith,” I want to shout, “Praise God—I agree!”

But then I’m reminded by my friends: What about 2 Timothy 2:15? Or the parable of the “Well done, good and faithful servant”? Am I ignoring the call to pursue a life of faithfulness and approval before God? This tension is worth exploring.

E. Stanley Jones brings us to the center of Paul’s message: justification is not something we achieve by works, but something we receive through faith in Jesus Christ. This is the crossroads where religion and grace part ways. Jones draws a contrast between two ladders—one we attempt to climb toward God through our own effort, and one where God comes down to us, meeting us in Christ at our point of need.

T. Austin-Sparks opens a window to something eternal: not a place to go, but a Person in whom we rest. Drawing from Hebrews 4, he reminds us that God’s people failed to enter His rest—not because it wasn’t offered, but because they did not believe. The gospel had been proclaimed to them in advance, though in shadow and type, yet their hearts remained hardened. The invitation still stands: “Today… enter into My rest.”

In Acts 17, Paul boldly refutes the mindset that God is a being crafted, contained, or appeased by human effort. He reminds the Athenians—and us—that the true God is not formed but formative, not dependent but completely sufficient, not silent but ever-giving. He is not housed in temples or nourished by offerings, for He Himself is the source of all life and breath and everything else.

Today’s reflection from AB Simpson centers on this quiet but powerful truth: Jesus doesn’t just give us what we need for the day—He iswhat we need. A day lived with Him is not one where we scramble for guidance, strength, or peace; it’s one where we draw upon His indwelling life as our moment-by-moment source.

Eternal life isn’t just a promise for some distant tomorrow—it is a present-tense reality in everyone who belongs to Christ. The richness of this gift stretches beyond the concept of living forever. Eternal life is both durational and relational—it never ends, and it is found only in the Son of God.

Oswald Chambers invites us to see life not as divided between sacred and secular, but as one continuous opportunity to know Christ intimately. The spiritual saint, he says, doesn't live for self-fulfillment but for the deepening knowledge of Jesus in every corner of life—yes, even the unremarkable ones.

God is never late, nor is His grace theoretical or generic. Today’s devotional from Miles Stanford reminds us that grace is not a reserve we store in advance—it flows fresh and perfectly timed for the moment of need. Philippians 4:19 assures us that God supplies all our needs according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus. That supply is not limited to material provision, but encompasses emotional strength, spiritual courage, and sustaining mercy.