E. Stanley Jones draws us into Paul’s opening words to the Ephesians, where he marvels not merely at their faith, but at the setting in which their faith thrives. Ephesus, after all, was known more for its idolatry and sensuality than for holiness. To be a saint in Christ and simultaneously remain faithful in a place like Ephesus was no small feat. Yet Paul doesn't separate these believers from their environment—he sees them as saints in Ephesus and in Christ.

E. Stanley Jones invites us to examine something we rarely question—our own views. Paul, in Galatians 5:10, expresses confidence that the believers will take “no other view than mine,” because Paul’s view had been aligned with Christ's. But this alignment isn’t something to assume lightly. Just because we’ve surrendered our lives to the Lord doesn’t mean every thought we think carries His imprint. We may be sincere, devout, and even sacrificial—yet still cling to assumptions rooted not in Christ, but in culture, denominational bias, personal history, or simple ignorance.

Today’s devotional from Nick Harrison draws us into a rich distinction: God’s rest is not simply a cessation of activity—it is His very own rest, found in Himself. Adolph Saphir emphasizes that in giving us rest, God gives us Himself. All other blessings—peace, righteousness, joy, light, strength—flow from that singular gift. In Christ, we don’t merely receive benefits from God; we receive the indwelling presence of God Himself. This is not abstract or symbolic—it is the real, active, relational presence of the risen Christ living in us.

Many believers have a quiet, even resigned, expectation that they will make it to heaven—but barely. We imagine arriving scarred and spiritually bruised, dragging our way across the finish line of faith. But that isn’t the picture Psalm 91:11 paints. F.B. Meyer reminds us that God’s provision is not limited to the end goal of salvation—it is powerfully active in our present journey. He doesn’t merely prepare a place for us in glory; He appoints angelic care to keep us in all our ways.

T. Austin-Sparks gently reminds us that God’s primary concern is not with what we do for Him, but what He does in us. Activity for God is not the measuring rod of our faithfulness—availability is. Moses spent forty obscure years in the wilderness watching sheep, yet it was there that God formed him into the vessel fit for leading His people. Sparks urges us to consider that stillness, obscurity, and seeming insignificance may be the very environment in which God’s purpose unfolds most deeply.

Paul had just narrowly escaped death at the hands of an enraged mob in Jerusalem. Rather than running for safety or even just staying silent, he astonishingly asked for permission to speak to the same violent crowd. Most of us would be eager to get away, but Paul, deeply burdened by love for his fellow Israelites, saw the chaos as a divine opportunity. He trusted the Lord to do something eternal in that moment.

Today’s devotional from Bob Hoekstra reminds us that prayer is not a religious transaction—it’s the overflow of a heart in union with Christ, rooted in trust and surrendered to His will. God doesn’t just tolerate our prayers—He invites them. He wants us to pour out our hearts in every moment of need and dependence. But the power of prayer isn’t found in the volume of our asking, or the repetition of words, but in the alignment of our hearts with His.

Today’s devotional from A.B. Simpson draws us to the gentle but unwavering call of Psalm 45:10—Listen… forget your people and your father’s house. This isn’t about disowning loved ones; it’s a deeper invitation to undivided loyalty to the Lord. When we hear His voice calling us to Himself, our response sometimes requires a reordering of affections and priorities. What once seemed essential may now be surrendered—not out of legalistic denial, but because something far more beautiful and eternal has captivated our hearts.

Oswald Chambers calls us to embrace the quiet, unwavering walk of faith rather than chasing spiritual thrills. “To walk and not be faint” is no ordinary challenge—it is the daily test of endurance rooted in trust. Unlike emotional highs that quickly fade, the steady steps of faith are anchored in the sure presence of God, who promises to be with us every moment.

The mystery of Calvary isn't merely what happened to Christ but what happened in Him—and through Him, to us. We were judicially included in His death and resurrection. The Spirit now invites us into the unfolding realization of that inclusion. When Christ died, we died. When He rose, we rose. That’s not merely theology—it’s identity. And in Romans 6, the Spirit of truth gently discloses this marvelous union.

Today’s devotional from Witness Lee reveals the stunning simplicity and magnitude behind the name of Jesus. Many know Jesus as a historical figure, a great teacher, or even as the Son of God—but this meditation presses deeper: Jesus is Jehovah, and not just Jehovah, but Jehovah who saves. His very name means “Jehovah is salvation.” He is not one who merely provides salvation—He is the embodiment of it. The Savior is the salvation.

Before Christ’s death and resurrection, the disciples followed Him by physically going where He went. They had to leave their homes, trades, and families in order to be near Him. There was no spiritual shortcut—no way to be “with” Jesus unless one was literally beside Him. But now, everything has changed. Jesus is no longer limited by time and space. His Spirit has come to dwell within every believer, personally and powerfully present no matter where we are or what we face.

E. Stanley Jones draws a crucial distinction in today’s reflection from In Christ: not all faith glorifies God. He reveals that when faith is separated from love, it not only loses its beauty but also becomes a destructive force. This distortion has left a tragic mark on history—religious movements, even in the name of Christ, have sometimes weaponized belief without love, leaving damage in their wake.

In today’s meditation, T. Austin-Sparks draws our attention to the divine upheaval that God allows—or even initiates—so that only what is rooted in Christ remains. Citing Hebrews 12, he reminds us that created things—systems, traditions, institutions—are inherently shakable. Only the eternal, spiritual life sourced in Christ is unshakable.

Today’s devotional from Ray Stedman reminds us that Paul never told Jews to abandon the Law of Moses or circumcision altogether. Rather, he clearly drew a distinction between Jewish believers who could continue their cultural observances as symbols pointing to Christ, and Gentile believers who were not to be burdened with those rituals. For Paul, it was never about rejecting the past—it was about recognizing how it had been fulfilled in Christ.

There’s a deep sorrow in Paul’s voice when he asks the Galatians why they would turn back to the very thing that once enslaved them. They had come to know God—and more importantly, had come to be known by Him. Yet, they drifted back into striving, back into rule-keeping, back into spiritual poverty. The law was never designed to breathe life into us. It only reveals the lack that grace fills.

A.B. Simpson reminds us that many believers live in endless skirmishes with sin because they’ve never fully entered into the victory that is already theirs in Christ. Rather than settling the matter with a decisive surrender and resting in Christ’s finished work, they remain in the trenches, exhausting themselves trying to win battles that were already won at Calvary. The City of David didn’t fall to David because of brute force or strategy—it fell because God had ordained it. “Nevertheless,” David captured it.

Oswald Chambers gently reminds us that Jesus never forces Himself on us. He doesn’t demand submission, manipulate our decisions, or coerce obedience. Instead, He reveals Himself—and in that revealing, those who belong to Him willingly recognize His moral authority. When Christ’s life is birthed within us through redemption, obedience becomes a response of love, not obligation.

God has not withheld a single spiritual blessing from us—He has lavished them all upon us in Christ. At the heart of this generosity is His love. It isn’t a love we’re meant to admire from a distance or strive to earn. It’s a love that has been poured into us, that now defines us, that frees us to live and love in return.

The miraculous birth of Jesus wasn’t merely an entry into the world for the sake of starting His earthly ministry. It was the eternal God stepping into humanity—without absorbing its fallen nature. Conceived by the Holy Spirit and born through the virgin Mary, Jesus took on the likeness of sinful flesh, but not sin itself. He wore our skin but not our corruption. His appearance reflected fallen man, but His essence remained holy and untouched by sin.