A Cry of Hope

Even in the mist, light is breaking through—His kingdom is coming, quietly and sure.

Devotional Credit: Immeasurably More by Ray Stedman
Photo Credit: Unsplash

Ray Stedman invites us to look deeper into the prayer, “Your kingdom come.” It’s not merely a longing for heaven or the day when Christ visibly reigns on earth. It’s also a present-tense, Spirit-breathed cry for God’s unseen work to unfold through the very circumstances we’re in right now.

While many of us do ache for a better world—free from wars, brokenness, and confusion—Stedman reminds us that God's kingdom is often being built in the backstage moments of our lives. What looks like failure or silence may actually be the very soil in which divine life is taking root. God often does His deepest work behind the curtain of our most painful trials.

The prayer “Your kingdom come” becomes personal, not just prophetic. It’s the surrendered whisper of someone who has laid down their demand to understand and instead dares to believe: God is building something eternal in me, through this. Even when we’re surrounded by ashes, this prayer opens our eyes to resurrection. God’s kingdom advances—not in our strength, but in our surrender.

✍🏼 Personalized Journal Entry – Voice of the Holy Spirit Through Scripture

I am nearer than you think in the moments you least expect Me. When pain shouts louder than My promises, I am not absent—I am accomplishing something unseen, eternal. My kingdom is not forged in grand displays, but in hearts that bow low and whisper yes through tears.

You see delay, but I see the rising of something indestructible. You mourn what has been lost, but I am birthing what cannot be taken. Through what looks like defeat, I write resurrection. In the collapse of your plans, I unfold Mine.

You pray, “Your kingdom come,” and I answer—not only in distant futures, but in present trials. The marriage that fell apart, the diagnosis that changed everything, the lonely night you thought I had left—all of it is soil I water with mercy. From death, I call forth life. From weakness, I display My power. From your surrender, I reveal My Son.

So rest, beloved. You are not forgotten. I am not building monuments of stone—I am forming living temples in the hidden places of your pain. And yes, My kingdom comes—even now, even here.

Scriptures referenced: Luke 11:2; Matthew 6:10; 2 Corinthians 4:16–18; Romans 5:3–5; John 12:24; Isaiah 45:3

🧺 Real-Life Analogy

It’s like watching a Polaroid photo develop. At first, it looks blank, even ruined. But slowly, almost invisibly, the image begins to form. You want to speed it up, but the process can’t be rushed. In time, beauty emerges—just as the kingdom forms within you in moments that seem empty or broken.

🙏🏼 Prayer of Confidence

Father, thank You that Your kingdom is not delayed or distant—it is unfolding even now through what I cannot yet see. I trust that every moment of loss, every ache of disappointment, is not wasted in Your hands. You are not a bystander in my suffering. You are the King, quietly advancing Your reign in my heart. I rest in Your presence and rejoice in Your purposes. Your kingdom has come, is coming, and will never end.