A. B. Simpson points us to the quiet difference between a life that wins sometimes and a life that walks in steady victory. On the surface the two may look alike. Both have bright moments. Both know seasons of triumph. Yet Simpson reminds us that the small gap between occasional faith and constant trust is wide. One is rooted in human effort that rises and falls. The other draws on the faithful life of Jesus within, producing a durable constancy that holds when pressures rise.

We often imagine that God is testing us to see if we will pass or fail. Miles Stanford gently reframes this. Our Father is not grading our worth. He is growing our trust. Over time He makes us honestly aware of our utter inability so that we may rest in His total sufficiency. What looks like weakness to the world becomes the doorway where the life of Jesus flows.

God’s fatherly discipline is not a sign that we are cast off. Witness Lee helps us see that it is a loving confirmation that we belong to the family. Hebrews 12 says the Father of spirits disciplines His sons and daughters for our good so that we may share His holiness. The hand that corrects is the same hand that embraces. When He trains us, He is not lowering our worth. He is drawing us more deeply into the life of Jesus that already dwells within us.

Oswald Chambers points us to the kind of joy Jesus promised. It is not a mood swing or a lucky break. Jesus speaks of a joy that is His own, the joy of glad surrender to the Father, the joy of saying yes to the mission for which He came. Chambers reminds us that this joy is not found by managing outcomes, but by living in union with the One who did only what pleased the Father.

E. Stanley Jones points us to a truth that runs opposite of what we would expect. Paul’s imprisonment, rather than discouraging the early believers, actually gave them more confidence to speak the Word of God with boldness. Our usual way of thinking would assume that release and freedom from suffering would strengthen faith, but here the opposite happened. The very chains that bound Paul became the instrument God used to inspire courage in others.

Today’s devotional from Nick Harrison draws us into a lesson that runs against the noise of the world. Both François Fénelon and Hannah Whitall Smith remind us that strength does not come from restless activity or constant effort. It comes instead from quiet trust, stillness, and the life of abiding in Jesus. The verse from John 8:28 anchors us: Jesus Himself only spoke what the Father taught Him. He did nothing independently, but lived fully dependent upon His Father’s presence.

T. Austin-Sparks reminds us that in Jesus, the fullness of God has already come near. There is nothing more to be added. God’s final and complete word is His Son, and He will not speak through another. This truth is both a comfort and a warning. Comfort, because in Jesus we have all the resources of heaven at our disposal. Warning, because if we ignore the Son, there is no other message left. Sparks urges us to see that the gospel is not a philosophy or a teaching, but an encounter with the living God Himself.

Ray Stedman takes us into Jeremiah 46, where the prophet describes Egypt’s defeat at Carchemish. Though the battle was historical, its imagery continues to speak. Egypt, in Scripture, often symbolizes the world system that draws God’s people back toward bondage. Israel longed for the food and comforts of Egypt even after God freed them, just as we sometimes crave what enslaves us. Egypt becomes more than geography. It represents a mindset: living for pleasure, for comfort, for self rather than for the glory of God.

Israel’s story teaches more than rescue from bondage. It pictures a God who brings His people out, then brings them in. Bob Hoekstra traces Joshua and Caleb’s confidence in the Lord and shows how humble faith enters the fullness that grace provides. Their generation left Egypt, yet most never stepped into the good land. Two believed God in the face of giants, and they tasted what He had already promised.

Obedience is not a grim duty that squeezes joy out of life. A. B. Simpson points us to a very different way. Jesus says that if we know what He has shown us and do it, we will be blessed. This is not a bargain we strike with God. It is the fruit of trusting union with Jesus, where His life becomes our life and His desires shape our steps. Simpson reminds us that surrender is not loss. It is release. When we let go of our clenched preferences and say yes to the Lord, we discover a deeper rest than we knew to ask for.

The disciples returned from their first mission thrilled about what had happened through them. Jesus gently redirected their joy to something deeper, that their names are written in heaven. Oswald Chambers helps us see the wisdom in that correction. Results are not the center. Relationship is. When we root our joy in outcomes, our hearts ride a roller coaster. When we rest our joy in Jesus, who knows us and has made us His own, our center holds steady.

Jesus invites kingdom people to live from the Father’s hidden life. Witness Lee points us to Matthew 6, where giving is not a performance but a quiet overflow of divine life. The world advertises generosity to be seen. The child of the Father gives because the Father’s life is generous. The difference is not the size of the gift, it is the source and the motive.

In a recent comment on one of our YouTube videos, someone asked whether my emphasis on resting in Jesus to fulfill God’s righteous requirements—through a believer who yields and obeys Him—contradicts Paul’s call to self‑discipline in 1 Corinthians 9:24‑27. They pointed to Paul’s words about running to win a race and disciplining his body. Does resting in Jesus’ finished work mean we should neglect self‑control? Let’s look closely at Paul’s imagery and the bigger story of grace.

Miles Stanford invites us to consider the true center of our spiritual life, not in doctrines or blessings themselves, but in our affection for Jesus. The Scripture calls us to seek the things above where Jesus sits at the right hand of God. Our hunger for Him is fulfilled in Him, and as we taste His goodness, our desire for Him grows even more. This satisfaction overwhelms every lesser longing and brings peace where fleshly desires can never find rest. It reminds us that knowledge about Jesus is not the same as knowing Him personally.

Today, E. Stanley Jones turns our attention to Paul’s greeting in Philippians 1:1: “To all the saints in Christ Jesus who are at Philippi, with the bishops and deacons.” At first glance, it seems to place bishops and deacons outside the company of saints. Jones suggests that when religious positions become a source of pride, they can hinder the simple life of a saint. He recalls signing an autograph after a bishop who carefully spelled out his title so everyone would know its importance. This small act illustrates how easily titles can become more important than authentic holiness. Being self‑consciously important makes it hard to live humbly as a saint.

In Luke 17:20‑21 Jesus tells us the kingdom of God is not something we will observe with our eyes. It is not located in a specific place we can point to. Instead, He says, the kingdom is within us. Jeremy Taylor’s reflection on this truth invites us into a deeply personal experience of God’s presence. He describes the heart as the true temple where Jesus, our High Priest, receives our prayers and presents them to the Father. The Holy Spirit consecrates this inner temple, making it a dwelling place for the Trinity. In this inward sanctuary, God reigns by faith and fills our lives with His grace.

In today’s meditation, T. Austin-Sparks invites us to examine whether our life is truly rooted in Jesus or still anchored in ourselves. Drawing from 2 Corinthians 13:5, he reminds us that the new creation is wholly in Him and never originates from us. Even though we have this life within, it remains entirely in Jesus. We are partakers by faith alone. If we begin to think the source lies in us, faith would no longer be necessary, and we would merely repeat the old life. Sparks makes it clear: we must recognize that the new life is never our own constitution but purely and always our union with Jesus.

The reading for today challenges us to look beyond mere familiarity with the Scriptures and into the life they are meant to impart. T. Austin-Sparks points out that the true value of the Bible is not found in our ability to quote it or in the prestige we gain by knowing it well. Rather, it is found in the livingness of Jesus shining through its pages. He warns that we can have all the teaching, all the tradition, and yet remain unchanged if the risen life of Jesus does not become our own. In his loving yet searching way, he invites us to face this personally and honestly.

Ray Stedman invites us to consider the root of our struggles: the desire to seek great things for ourselves. Drawing from Jeremiah 45, he explains that this longing to claim glory that belongs to God leads to pious deceit, misdirected blame, and secret fear. We might try to correct these tendencies through our own efforts, only to find ourselves sinking deeper. Stedman reminds us that the only remedy is found at the cross and resurrection of Jesus. At the cross our old self is put to death, and in Jesus' resurrection we receive new life. Our healing does not come from striving to fix ourselves, but from accepting the finished work of Jesus.

This reading invites us to glimpse how people in the Old Testament lived by God’s grace, even though they were under the law. The law could never supply life or power; without God’s work on their behalf, all they had was human strength—which was never enough. When twelve spies returned from exploring the Promised Land, ten of them measured the giants and fortified cities against their own abilities. Their conclusion was rooted in human perspective: “We are not able to go up against the people, for they are stronger than we.” They forgot God’s promise, and their fear turned into rebellion.