Jesus gave His disciples a tender, personal promise the night before the cross—a promise not only for them, but for all who would trust Him in the days to come. He knew their hearts would tremble with fear at His departure, so He anchored them in something unshakable: “I will come again and receive you to Myself.” His absence was not abandonment; it was preparation. His return would be reunion.

Today’s devotional from A.B. Simpson reminds us that genuine love for Christ finds expression not merely in thoughts or feelings but in tangible acts of devotion. Words without deeds are hollow when it comes to ministry that truly reflects the heart of Jesus. Just as Mary offered a costly gift at Jesus’ feet, we are called to give from the depths of what is precious to us—not only in spiritual sentiment but in physical, practical service.

Sometimes we shrink under the weight of our own inadequacy. We imagine that if we were more spiritual, more certain of our place in God’s will, then perhaps we could really trust Him. But today’s devotional from A.B. Simpson reminds us that this thinking is backwards. Faith doesn’t begin by looking inward for certainty—it starts by looking upward in surrender.

Oswald Chambers challenges us to reckon with the oft-ignored reality of sanctification: it has a death side. We may gladly embrace the joy of being raised with Christ, but the Spirit first brings us face-to-face with the crucifixion of all that is not of Christ. This “battle royal” Chambers speaks of is the inner struggle to let go of our deepest attachments—our reputation, our relationships, our rights, even our self-image—and submit fully to Christ’s ownership.

Oswald Chambers reminds us that Jesus did not come to raise the bar of morality to unattainable heights merely to show us how far we fall short. If we approach Him only as a teacher, we end up defeated—knowing what is right but utterly unable to live it. Jesus didn’t come simply to instruct us; He came to indwell us with the very life that fulfills what He taught.

The writer from today’s devotional, Miles Stanford, reminds us that God's provision isn't based on panic—it’s based on eternal purpose. We live in a world of pressing needs and ticking clocks, and it's hard to align our anxious urgency with our Father’s unhurried and sovereign pace. But He is never late, and He is never scrambling. The moment we see what God has already accomplished for us in Christ, the invitation becomes clear: rest, trust, and rely on His divine timing.

Today’s devotional from Miles Stanford reminds us that we are not only welcomed into the presence of our Father by the blood of Christ—we are fit for that presence because we are clothed in Christ Himself. The door into the Holiest place has been opened, not merely for visitation, but for habitation. We don’t step into God’s presence as beggars hoping for acceptance. We dwell there as those who have been fully accepted in the Beloved and made suitable by His indwelling life.

Today’s devotional from Witness Lee calls us to awaken to God’s heart: His desire to reach others is often hindered not by His power or willingness, but by our own unavailability. Isaiah 6:8 presents the piercing question, “Whom shall I send? Who will go for Us?” The implication isn’t that God lacks resources—but that He seeks yielded hearts. He looks for those who will live not for personal ease or vainglory, but for His purposes in a world still in need of salvation.

Today’s message from Witness Lee reminds us of a reality we sometimes overlook in daily life: we live under a King—not merely a Judge or a Lawgiver, but a loving King who has taken up residence within us. The devotional highlights that we are no longer under the authority of darkness but have been transferred into the kingdom of the Son of God's love. That kingdom is not only external—it’s inward and personal. The King has come to dwell within us, and His presence isn’t passive. He rules.

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.