Abraham travels to Gerar and repeats an old fear pattern, calling Sarah his sister. The king, Abimelek, takes Sarah, and the promise of Isaac seems to stand on a cliff’s edge. Yet the Lord steps in. He speaks to Abimelek in a dream, halts any union, and makes clear that Sarah belongs to Abraham. The tension sits right before Isaac’s birth, so we are meant to see how closely God watches over His word and safeguards the line of promise.

E. Stanley Jones reflects on Paul’s words from Philippians 2:1-2, showing us that life in Jesus is not static or dry but overflowing with encouragement, love, and shared participation in the Spirit. To be in Him means that we are never left to our own fading resources. Instead, we are carried along by His life within us, much like electricity flowing through a generator. This is what Jones calls “the stimulus of Christ.”

This morning’s devotional from Nick Harrison opens with Romans 1:18-20, reminding us that the reality of God is written across creation itself. The world around us bears testimony to His eternal power and divine nature, leaving humanity without excuse. Yet, as Blaise Pascal so beautifully expressed, the God of Christians is not a distant mathematician or a cosmic watchmaker. He is not merely a God of order and elements. He is the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, the God who fills hearts with love, joy, and consolation.

T. Austin-Sparks draws us into Paul’s words in Ephesians, where he calls himself “the prisoner of Christ Jesus.” Sparks helps us see that imprisonment was not a setback but a gateway. God often uses what looks like limitation to release something much greater. Paul’s prison cell became the pulpit from which letters flowed that still enrich us nineteen centuries later. What seemed small and confining in human eyes turned out to be vast in eternal value.

Paul says the gospel is the power of God for salvation. Ray Stedman slows us down to see why this matters in real life. Rome admired power. So do we. Yet the might that builds roads and empires cannot change a heart. The gospel does what no human power can do. It brings people into a brand-new standing with God because of Jesus.

Bob Hoekstra points us to the life of David, who again and again confessed the Lord as his strength. In a world where every step seems to demand more than we can give, David reminds us that our sufficiency is not found within ourselves but in God Himself. Whether facing the daily tasks of life, confronting hidden traps of the enemy, or engaging in outright battles, David’s testimony was simple and clear: the Lord is my strength.

Zechariah 4:10 reminds us that the Lord delights in the day of small things. A. B. Simpson picks up that thread and shows how quiet beginnings often carry heaven’s largest outcomes. He likens the hidden life of Jesus in Bethlehem to the hidden life of Jesus in us. What looks little is not lesser. It is the seed of a kingdom that grows from within.

Oswald Chambers draws our eyes to Jesus’ promise in John 7:38. Those who trust Him do not become reservoirs that hoard blessings. They become conduits. What God gives is meant to move through us to others. That picture cuts against our usual hopes for comfort or status. Chambers lovingly reminds us that life in Jesus is not about polishing our personal qualities, it is about His self-giving life flowing through yielded people. Thank you, Oswald, for calling us away from self-preoccupation and back to the simple confidence that Jesus lives in us for others.

God’s fatherly discipline is not rejection. It is relational proof that we truly belong to Him in Jesus. Today’s eManna reading reminds us that a loving Father trains His sons and daughters so we share His holiness. The writer points to Hebrews 12 and says the motive is love, not anger. Discipline is not for unbelievers. It is the family way of a God who is committed to our good.

God’s purpose for His people is not scattered across a thousand goals. Miles Stanford reminds us that the Father is steadily shaping us to the image of His Son. When that purpose becomes our will, the details of His process lose their power to unsettle us. We can say with Job, even if everything is stripped away, I trust the Lord. This is not stoicism. It is a quiet confidence that our Father is faithful, that He establishes us, and that He guards us from evil.

The writer of Hebrews moves from a majestic portrait of the Son in chapter 1 to a loving warning in chapter 2. Because Jesus is greater than angels and has spoken with final authority, we are called to pay very close attention. The danger is not loud rebellion. It is a quiet slide. Drift happens when we stop listening to the Son who anchors us in the truth.

Paul stood before a hostile crowd in Jerusalem and began with common ground. He was raised in the best schools, trained by Gamaliel, and shaped by a fierce love for God. He wanted them to know his zeal matched theirs. This matters because it shows Paul’s shift did not come from apathy. It came from meeting the One he had missed.

When David speaks of the blessedness of forgiveness in Psalm 32, he does so not as a theologian writing from theory, but as a man who has known the crushing weight of concealed sin and the liberating joy of uncovered mercy. This is not a psalm for those who merely dabble in religion—it is a song for the soul that has staggered under guilt and found shelter in the unfailing kindness of God.

Paul’s words in Philippians 1:29-30 shift our perspective on suffering. Instead of framing it as a burdensome duty, he calls it a gift, something “granted” to us for the sake of Jesus. E. Stanley Jones reminds us that suffering for the Lord is not a mark of shame but of honor. Just as faith is granted, so also suffering is granted. Both are woven into the privilege of belonging to Him.

Isaiah’s image of fastening as a nail in a sure place points us to the firm reliability of God’s Word. This devotional, compiled by Nick Harrison, calls us to return again and again to Scripture with expectation, not despair. At first, the truths of God may seem locked away, but patient reading and prayer open them to our hearts. Unlike the shifting opinions of men, what comes from God is stable and enduring.

Paul’s opening lines in Romans do not start with a program. They start with a Person. Jesus is the promised Son, truly human from David’s line and declared Son of God in power through the resurrection. Ray Stedman helps us see that everything in the gospel flows from union with this living Lord. Justification, sanctification, hope, and daily walk are not separate centerpieces. They are the outflow of being joined to the Son.

Bob Hoekstra draws our attention to Joshua meeting the mysterious Man outside Jericho with sword drawn. Joshua asks a natural question, Are You for us or for our adversaries. The answer reorients everything. No, but as Commander of the army of the Lord I have now come. Victory would not flow from Israel recruiting God to their side. Victory would come as Israel yielded to the Lord who was already in charge.

A. B. Simpson points us to a hard mercy that becomes a glad relief. We begin life in the natural. We lean on our own plans, our own character, our own resolve. Then the Lord, in kindness and care, lets the props of self-confidence give way so that we discover our need for something more than better habits. Simpson says this collapse is not the end. It is the doorway into the life of Jesus within us.

Oswald Chambers draws our eyes to God’s purpose for His people. The destiny set before us is not comfort or applause, it is holiness. Through the atoning work of Jesus, the Father restores us to union with Himself, removing every shadow that stood between. Chambers presses us to ask a searching question, do I actually believe I need to be holy, and do I believe God can make me holy from the inside out.

Miles Stanford points our eyes to a gracious pattern in the Father’s care. God is not out to crush faith. He cultivates it. Over time He shows us the limits of our own resources so that we rest in the sufficiency that is already ours in Jesus. When we are carried beyond our depth, we discover that our weakness is not a liability in the kingdom. It is the very place where His life meets us.