2026 Devotions
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Half‑Hearted Belief
Years ago, I was getting ready to perform a Saturday afternoon wedding when the phone rang. “Hey Pastor, I’m coming to the wedding! Does this count as church?”
I couldn’t help but smile. “No,” I said—probably a little too emphatically.
I’ve never been a fan of check‑the‑box Christianity.
God isn’t looking for attendance points. He wants a relationship—one built on trust, obedience, and a heart that actually wants Him.
Saul was a check‑box believer. He circled around God’s commands, almost obeying, almost following, almost surrendering—but never fully giving God his heart.
In 1 Samuel 15:22, Samuel confronts Saul with words that still cut straight through religious pretense:
“Does the Lord delight in burnt offerings and sacrifices as much as in obeying the Lord? To obey is better than sacrifice…”
Here’s the backstory: God told Saul to have nothing to do with the Amalekites or their possessions. But Saul kept the best of their sheep and goats—then tried to pass it off as a “sacrifice.”
And remember, the Israelites ate the sacrifices. So Saul wasn’t being spiritual—he was using religion to justify doing what he wanted.
Samuel saw right through it. Obedience matters more than rituals. A surrendered heart matters more than religious activity.
And honestly, Saul’s rationalization is still alive today.
We see it when someone acts one way on Sunday and another way at home. We see it when people think giving to charity earns them a place in heaven. We see it when we try to cover disobedience with spiritual language.
God isn’t fooled. And He isn’t interested in half‑hearted belief.
He wants our hearts—fully, honestly, humbly. Not perfect obedience, but real obedience. Not religious motions, but genuine devotion.
To obey is better than sacrifice. To trust is better than pretending. To follow God with your whole heart is better than checking every box.
To learn more, watch today’s video
A Careless Promise
I was fresh out of seminary, eager and maybe a little too confident, when a few pastor friends took me to lunch. I told them I felt ready to handle a church with a reputation for conflict. They exchanged that look—the one that says, “We know exactly which church you’re talking about.”
A few days later, I met the leadership of what would become my first pastorate.
I had been warned: “This church fires pastors.” But as I looked into it, I noticed a pattern—they only fired every other pastor. Since they had just fired my predecessor, I figured I was safe. In fact, I felt almost immune. And to be honest, they seemed to accept me right away.
Then I learned how the previous firing happened.
The church was unhappy with their pastor and called a meeting. In the middle of the discussion, one of the older leaders blurted out a careless challenge: “If you fire the pastor, I’ll quit.”
The church took him up on it. They fired the pastor. And the old man never came back.
I would sometimes see him standing outside the church, staring at the building with tears in his eyes. His pride—and his careless words—had cost him his church family. No wonder Jesus said, “Let your ‘yes’ be yes and your ‘no’ be no” (Matthew 5:37). Pride and rash promises never end well.
King Saul is the poster child for careless statements. In 1 Samuel 14, his troops are exhausted, hungry, and discouraged—not because of the enemy, but because of Saul’s impulsive oath:
“Cursed be anyone who eats food before evening comes, before I have avenged myself on my enemies!” (1 Samuel 14:24)
But Saul forgot to tell his own son Jonathan. Jonathan found honey, tasted it, and regained his strength—strength that helped him win the battle and become the hero of the day.
Everyone knew Jonathan had saved Israel. Everyone except Saul.
Saul was ready to kill his own son over an oath Jonathan didn’t even know about. Once again, Saul’s careless words came back to haunt him. Thankfully, the people refused to let Jonathan be harmed. They knew who the real hero was.
James gives us the same warning:
“Above all… do not swear—not by heaven or by earth or by anything else. All you need to say is a simple ‘Yes’ or ‘No.’” (James 5:12)
Careless words can cost us relationships, credibility, peace, and sometimes the very blessings God intends for us.
A wise heart speaks slowly. A humble heart speaks truthfully. A godly heart speaks carefully.
May our words build up rather than tear down. May our promises be thoughtful, not impulsive. And may our “yes” and “no” reflect a heart aligned with God.
Watch today’s video.
They Made Me Do it!
Saul, the first king of Israel, looked every bit the part. He carried himself like a king, spoke like a king, and even appeared to follow God. But it was only surface‑deep. Beneath the royal image was a heart that preferred his own way over God’s way.
When Saul was instructed to wait for the prophet Samuel—both for counsel and for the proper offering—he grew fearful and impatient. Instead of trusting God’s timing, he acted on his own. This was no small mistake. God’s law was clear: only priests could offer sacrifices acceptable to the Lord. Saul was not a priest, and he knew it.
But here is the deeper issue. When confronted with his sin, Saul didn’t say, “I was wrong. I was afraid. I failed.” Instead, he justified himself:
“When I saw that the men were scattering… and that you did not come at the set time… I thought, ‘Now the Philistines will come down against me…’ So I felt compelled to offer the burnt offering.” (1 Samuel 13:11–12)
Saul’s excuse echoes the excuses of others before him. Aaron blamed the people’s impatience when he crafted the golden calf. Adam blamed Eve—and even God Himself—when confronted in the garden: “The woman you put here with me…” (Genesis 3:12)
The pattern is ancient: When we sin, we instinctively look for someone or something else to blame.
But God isn’t looking for excuses. He’s looking for honesty.
The truth is, we all sin. We all fall short. God knows this, and He is rich in grace. But grace doesn’t grow in the soil of excuses. It grows in the soil of humility.
This is where David stands in stark contrast to Saul. David sinned deeply too—but when confronted, he didn’t hide, justify, or shift blame. He confessed. He broke. He returned.
David writes:
“When I kept silent, my bones wasted away… Then I acknowledged my sin to you and did not cover up my iniquity. I said, ‘I will confess…’” (Psalm 32:3–5)
David’s repentance opened the door to restoration. Saul’s excuses closed the door to transformation
Not perfection—but honesty. Not excuses—but confession. Not self‑protection—but surrender.
God already knows our weakness. He already sees our failure. What He desires is a heart willing to say, “I was wrong. I need You.”
That is where grace meets us.
Watch Today’s Video
From Humble Beginnings
God often amazes me. We make our plans and set off on our chosen course—hopefully with prayer, faith, and good intentions. Yet so often, the path we imagine is not the one God unfolds. His ways rarely mirror our expectations, but they always surpass them.
This is certainly true in the life of Ruth. She chose a difficult road with no motive except love for her mother‑in‑law, Naomi. Practically speaking, she had no reason to expect anything good to come from leaving her homeland. But God gave her far more than she could have asked or imagined. Her simple act of faith placed her in Scripture itself, remembered as one of the great women in the lineage of Jesus.
Isaiah 55:8–10 reminds us:
“My plans aren’t your plans, nor are your ways my ways,” says the Lord. “Just as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my plans than your plans.”
God’s plan for Ruth was greater than anything she—or anyone in her time—could have conceived. This widowed foreigner, a Moabite with no status and no security, would become the great‑grandmother of King David. When Ruth first arrived in Bethlehem, Israel didn’t even have kings. Yet God was already weaving her into a story far bigger than she knew.
Even in her own lifetime, Ruth saw God work in ways only He could orchestrate. Had she stayed in Moab, she likely would have lived a quiet, ordinary life. But she didn’t. She stepped out in compassion. She acted with no expectation of reward. She believed no one would notice.
But someone did.
Boaz, a kind and honorable man, had heard of her faithfulness. What began as the simple mercy of gleaning in his fields became a place of protection, then provision, then love. Their marriage led to children, and eventually to a grandson named David—the future king of Israel.
You never know what God will do when you trust Him in difficult seasons. But one thing is certain: when you act in love and faith, God notices. He works. You may never see the full extent of His hand, but He is always at work, shaping stories far beyond what you can imagine.
Hope for the Hopeless
Imagine leaving everything familiar—your homeland, your community, your security—to travel to a place where you have no home, no job, and no guarantee of survival. That was Ruth’s reality. And to make matters harder, she was traveling with Naomi, a mother‑in‑law crushed by grief and bitterness.
When they arrived in Bethlehem, Naomi’s despair spilled out:
“Don’t call me Naomi… Call me Mara, because the Almighty has made my life very bitter. I went away full, but the Lord has brought me back empty.” — Ruth 1:20–21
Living with someone who feels hopeless can drain even the strongest heart. But Ruth didn’t give in to discouragement. She didn’t walk away. She didn’t complain. Instead, she acted.
Ruth learned she could gather leftover grain by following behind harvesters—picking up whatever they dropped. It was exhausting, humbling work. My own childhood memories of picking leftover raspberries for a few coins remind me how impossible it would be to survive on scraps. Yet that is exactly how Ruth and Naomi lived.
But God was already moving.
When Boaz, the owner of the field, noticed Ruth’s hard work and heard her story, he responded with compassion. He told her to stay close to his workers, to drink freely from his water jars, and to glean safely in his fields.
Ruth was stunned. She asked Boaz, “Why have I found such favor in your eyes?” Boaz answered:
“I’ve been told all about what you have done for your mother‑in‑law… how you left your father and mother and your homeland and came to live with a people you did not know before. May the Lord repay you for what you have done. May you be richly rewarded by the Lord… under whose wings you have come to take refuge.” — Ruth 2:11–12
When Ruth woke up that morning, she likely felt invisible—poor, foreign, and insignificant. But God had already seen her faith. He had already prepared provision. He had already begun writing redemption into her story.
Ruth thought she was gathering scraps. God was gathering her into His plan.
Where You Go
The story of Ruth opens in heartbreak. “Now Elimelek, Naomi’s husband, died, and she was left with her two sons” (Ruth 1:3). In a foreign land called Moab, Naomi’s sons married Moabite women—one of them was Ruth. After about ten years, tragedy struck again: “Both Mahlon and Kilion also died, and Naomi was left without her two sons and her husband” (Ruth 1:5).
Loss upon loss. Grief upon grief. Naomi had nothing left but the hope of returning home to Bethlehem, where perhaps extended family could help her survive.
Yet even in tragedy, God was already planting seeds of redemption.
Ruth refused to abandon her mother‑in‑law. Her loyalty shines like a beacon in the darkness. She told Naomi:
“Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God my God.” — Ruth 1:16
This wasn’t just affection. It was faith. Ruth was choosing a new land, a new people, and the God of Israel. She was stepping into the unknown with courage that still inspires us today.
Naomi was strengthened by Ruth’s devotion, and Ruth was strengthened by Naomi’s wisdom. Together they walked into uncertainty—but not alone. God was already at work.
James later writes something that echoes their journey:
“Consider it pure joy… whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance.” — James 1:2–3
Ruth lived this truth. She left behind her homeland, her family, and everything familiar because she believed doing what was right mattered more than staying comfortable. She worked hard in the fields to provide for Naomi. She shared what little she had. And she trusted God to provide when she had no idea what tomorrow would bring.
Ruth is a hero of faith not because her life was easy, but because she was faithful when life was hard.
Her story reminds us that God often writes His greatest redemption stories through ordinary acts of loyalty, courage, and love.
How do you respond when life becomes difficult? Do you withdraw, or do you lean into faith the way Ruth did—trusting that God is already working behind the scenes?
The Boy Who Would Be King
The Story of two kings.
The first one looked like a king. Tall. Strong. Impressive. From the outside, he had it all together. But inside? Not so much. At times he was afraid. Other times he acted bold. Over time, he got full of himself, stopped listening to God, and just did whatever he wanted.
That was King Saul.
And honestly… that’s exactly what the people asked for:
“Give us a king to lead us, like all the other nations have” (1 Samuel 8:5).
And God said, “Alright.”
They got what they wanted—a king like everyone else.
A king who took more than he gave.
A king who made rash decisions.
A king who drifted further and further from God.
Then there’s the second king.
It’s a totally different story.
When Samuel went to visit a man named Jesse, he was told to look over his sons. One by one, they came in. The first—Eliab—looked the part. Strong, impressive… king material.
Samuel probably thought, “This is the guy.”
But God said no.
“People look at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart” (1 Samuel 16:7).
That’s the difference right there.
Not appearance… but the heart.
Son after son passed by. Nope. Not him. Not him either.
Finally Samuel asks, “Do you have any other sons?”
You can almost picture Jesse shrugging. “Well… there’s the youngest. He’s out watching the sheep.”
In other words, “He doesn’t really count.”
But they call him in.
And in walks a teenager—the boy who would become king. David.
He wasn’t perfect. Not even close. He would mess up in some big ways later on. But here’s the difference—his heart belonged to God. He trusted Him. He came back to Him. He didn’t walk away.
And God chose him.
Right there, in front of everyone, this overlooked kid is anointed as the next king of Israel.
Amazing.
So what do we do with that?
It’s a reminder that God isn’t impressed with what everyone else sees. He’s not focused on image, success, or how we come across.
He’s looking at the heart.
So the real question isn’t, “How do I look?”
It’s, “What’s going on inside?”
Do you really trust Jesus Christ?
Do you love Him with all your heart?
Because that’s what He’s after.
When Success Starts to Mess With You
The problem with success? It can quietly convince you that you don’t really need God anymore. Or at least… you don’t need to listen that closely.
Take King Saul.
Early on, he’s just a guy out looking for his dad’s lost donkeys. Wandering around for days. Doesn’t exactly scream “future king.” But it was all part of God’s plan. Those donkeys were already found—God was leading Saul to meet Samuel, who would anoint him as king.
From the outside, Saul looked the part. Tall, impressive—the kind of guy people would pick. But inside? Not so much. Honestly, a little like my cockapoo—lots of noise at first, then rolling over for belly rubs.
When it was time to crown him, Saul was nowhere to be found. They had to go looking… and there he was, hiding. Afraid. Not exactly king-like. But God chose him anyway.
And at first, Saul did well. He trusted God. Followed instructions. Won battles.
But then something shifted.
The more success he had, the less he listened.
In First Book of Samuel, Saul starts doing things his own way. He offers sacrifices he wasn’t supposed to offer. Then—this one’s wild—he sets up a monument… to himself.
Seriously. To himself.
You can almost hear the thinking: “This is what kings do, right? I won. I deserve this.”
But when Samuel shows up, things fall apart. There are sheep around that shouldn’t be there. Clear disobedience. And Samuel calls him out with words that still hit hard:
“To obey is better than sacrifice… rebellion is like the sin of divination, and arrogance like idolatry” (1 Samuel 15:22–23).
That’s the issue right there—arrogance.
Saul gained a kingdom… but lost himself. He looked successful on the outside, but inside he drifted further and further from the man God called him to be.
So what about us?
Has success—however you define it—started to shift what matters most?
Made you a little more independent… a little less prayerful?
Strained relationships?
Pushed God to the side?
It happens easier than we think.
The good news? You don’t have to stay there.
Be honest with God. Confess it. Turn back. Come to Jesus Christ and give Him your life again.
He’s really good at restoring what we’ve messed up.
Right in Their Own Eyes
The book of Book of Judges sums things up this way: “In those days Israel had no king; everyone did as they saw fit” (Judges 21:25).
At first, that sounds pretty good. Total freedom.
“You do what you want to.”
“Don’t push your morals on me.”
But it didn’t work.
Israel was a mess—up and down, all over the place. Even their leaders had issues: anger, revenge, pride, lust. They had God’s law. They had people speaking truth into their lives. God Himself was supposed to be their King.
They just didn’t want Him telling them what to do.
So everyone did what was right in their own eyes… and it led to chaos.
Now fast forward to us. On this side of Jesus Christ, things are different. We’ve been set free from sin and death. “The wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Romans 6:23).
We are free.
But freedom in Christ isn’t about running our own lives—it’s about following Him.
Paul the Apostle says it clearly: “It is for freedom that Christ has set us free… stand firm” (Galatians 5:1). Because when we put ourselves first—our wants, our opinions, our way—we don’t get freer. We actually become slaves to ourselves. And that kind of life leads to tension, broken relationships, and emptiness.
But when Christ is King, everything changes.
Galatians 5:13-15 says, “You, my brothers and sisters, were called to be free. But do not use your freedom to indulge the flesh; rather, serve one another humbly in love. For the entire law is fulfilled in keeping this one command: “Love your neighbor as yourself.”
Free from the bondage of sin and the death that follows it. Free from self-rule that was really self-deception. Rather than following our every whim:
We’re free to follow Jesus.
Free to walk with the Spirit.
Free to love people the way we’re meant to.
And that kind of freedom produces something real in us: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control (Galatians 5:22–23).
So here’s the question:
Who’s calling the shots in your life today?
Because when we all do what’s right in our own eyes, things fall apart. But when Jesus is King, life starts to come together.
Watch today’s video based on Judges 21:25 and various other passages.
All the Books in the World
I’ve been in a Bible study for many years with two friends. One of them is full of questions—good questions, honest questions. Sometimes he gets the classic response: “You don’t need to know that, do you?” And he’ll shrug and say, “I guess not.”
But here’s what I’ve learned over the years: I don’t come close to knowing everything. Not even about Jesus. Not even after decades of reading Scripture.
Just recently I was stumped again. I hadn’t realized that Nicodemus brought a mixture of myrrh and aloes—about seventy‑five pounds—to anoint Jesus’ body (John 19:39). I’ve read that passage many times, but somehow it never caught my attention. And I have to admit, it’s far from the first time something slipped past me. There is always more to learn.
Most of the questions people ask me are ones I’ve heard again and again: “How can God forgive me?” “I slipped up—what do I do now?” “How can I become a more loving person?” Or they’re basic Bible questions that come from a sincere heart.
If you know Jesus, you should hunger to know Him more. Read the Bible. Study it. Pray. Confess. Trust. A relationship with Christ grows the same way any relationship grows—through time, attention, and honest conversation.
Perhaps you have many questions—questions you’re almost embarrassed to say out loud. Questions you think everyone else already knows the answer to. But here’s the truth: you are not alone. If you’re wondering about something in your walk with Christ, chances are many others have wondered the very same thing.
God is not intimidated by your questions. He invites you to bring them to Him. So open the Scriptures. Sit with them. Ask God what they mean and how they apply to your life. The Holy Spirit delights in guiding believers into truth (John 16:13).
But here’s the important part: when God gives you an answer, apply it. Don’t just nod in agreement. Don’t just underline the verse. Take the truth He shows you and live it out with faith. Obedience is where understanding becomes transformation.
And remember this promise—one you can hold onto when you feel unsure, unworthy, or unfinished: “He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 1:6)
God is faithful. He is patient with your questions. He is gentle with your growth. And He will finish what He started in you.
So keep asking. Keep seeking. Keep trusting.
The One who began the work will not abandon it.
So I encourage you: dive into the Word of God and ponder it. Because it is in the Scriptures that Jesus reveals Himself (Luke 24:27).
The prophet Jeremiah wrote, “Call to Me and I will answer you and tell you great and unsearchable things you do not know.” (Jeremiah 33:3)
That’s our invitation. Keep reading. Keep learning. Keep growing. As we learn, we draw closer to understanding Jesus and how He wants us to live a life of faith—always loving others.
And when we finally reach heaven, we’ll learn even more. There is so much to discover. All the books in the world couldn’t contain it.
Watch today’s video based on John 21:18-25
Forget About the Past
I often meet people who know about Christ but still carry a heavy doubt about whether they will ever see heaven. They replay some moment—or a whole season—from their past and wonder if God could ever forgive that.
The real issue is that they’re looking at their own failures instead of Christ’s finished work. They know they have sinned. What they don’t realize is that everyone else has too. Scripture is painfully clear: “For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” (Romans 3:23)
But here’s what they fail to see: Our sin—real as it is—does not get the last word. Eternal life is not earned by good behavior; it is given by a Savior who paid the price for us. “For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life.” (John 3:16)
Peter understood this better than most. He was bold, brash, outspoken—a natural leader. But he had done something terrible. He denied Jesus three times (Luke 22:54–62). And like us, he needed forgiveness, cleansing, and restoration.
John writes, “If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves… but if we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” (1 John 1:8–9)
That’s what Peter needed. That’s what we need.
After the resurrection, Peter still carried the weight of his failure. So Jesus met him on the shore and gently brought the wound into the light. “Simon son of John, do you love Me more than these?” (John 21:15)
“Yes, Lord,” Peter answered. “Feed My sheep.”
Jesus asked the question three times—one for each denial. Not to shame Peter, but to restore him. To wipe away the past. To set him free.
Peter didn’t deserve that forgiveness. Neither do we. But Jesus gives it anyway. And with forgiveness comes calling. With cleansing comes purpose.
Peter walked away from that breakfast forgiven, restored, and commissioned: “Feed My sheep.”
And you can walk away from your past the same way— forgiven, cleansed, and free.
Watch today’s video based on John 21:15-17
The Third Time
Several years ago, when our church had only one child, we made the bold decision to begin Sunday School. Some of the practical thinkers immediately challenged me: “Where are you going to get the children?”
I remember thinking, “Where is your vision? Where is your faith?”
So we started Sunday School anyway—right in the face of skepticism. And God provided the children. He always does when His people step out in faith (Ephesians 3:20).
After the resurrection, a few of the disciples must have been thinking the same way: “Your excitement is great, but how are we going to put food on the table?” So they went back to what they knew—fishing (John 21:1–3). And it was a terrible idea. They fished all night and caught nothing. If you study the disciples, they always seem to be thinking about food!
As dawn broke, a blurry figure appeared on the shoreline. You can almost hear the familiar question: “Friends, have you caught anything?” It’s the same question we still ask today when our efforts come up empty.
Their answer was short and honest: “No.” You can hear the frustration in that single word.
Then the stranger called out, “Throw your net on the right side of the boat and you will find some.” (John 21:6) They could have dismissed Him as an armchair fisherman. But—thankfully—they obeyed. And suddenly the nets were so full they could not haul them in.
John, the one who loved to remind us he was “the disciple Jesus loved,” was the first to recognize Him: “It is the Lord!” (John 21:7) Peter didn’t wait. He jumped into the water and swam to Jesus. Soon they were all gathered around a charcoal fire, sharing breakfast with the risen Christ.
God still works that way. We, in our unbelief, keep casting our nets on the wrong side of the boat—working hard, striving, frustrated. And Jesus still calls out to us, challenging us to trust Him, to believe Him, to obey Him even when it seems ridiculous.
He still fills empty nets. He still does what many consider impossible. He still comes through.
Believe.
Watch today’s video based on John 21:1-14
From Against to For
I am convinced of this: God can change anyone. He took uneducated, ordinary men—fishermen, tax collectors, everyday workers—and through them turned the world upside down with the message of Christ.
He took a shepherd boy named David and shaped him into a king after His own heart.
He took an exiled, reluctant man with a complicated past—Moses—and used him to free an entire nation.
And in today’s passage from Acts 9, God does something even more shocking: He chooses a man who hated Christ to become His spokesman.
From persecutor to prophetic messenger. From hater of Christ to lover of Christ. From arrestor to evangelist.
God was about to take Saul, transform him into Paul, and through his ministry change countless lives.
For anyone who knew Saul before this moment, it was nearly impossible to grasp. Ananias had laid hands on him—this once‑dangerous man now rendered harmless by the power of Christ. Saul’s sight returned. But what would he do next?
At first, he did nothing. He stayed quiet, stunned by grace. But after a few days, something remarkable happened. Saul began preaching—boldly, powerfully, with a depth of Scripture knowledge that left people speechless. They whispered to one another:
“Can this really be the same Saul?”
Soon the persecutor became the persecuted. The enemies of Christ now wanted him gone. The change in his life was undeniable—and dangerous to those who opposed the gospel.
So Saul fled. But when he arrived in Jerusalem, no one trusted him. They remembered the old Saul, not the new Paul. Fear clouded their vision.
Then came another brave man—Barnabas. A man willing to trust, willing to love, willing to see what God had done. Barnabas brought Paul to the disciples, stood beside him, and helped them see the miracle of a transformed life.
And God is still doing this today.
He can bring that same change to the neighbor you struggle with. To your boss. To your son or daughter. And yes—to you as well.
No one is beyond the reach of God’s transforming grace.
Watch today’s video based on Acts 9:17–22.
An Impossible Task
Imagine this: you’ve done nothing wrong. You love Christ. You follow Him faithfully. Yet word reaches you that someone is coming to arrest believers—including you—simply for calling on the name of Jesus. You’re trying to figure out how to stay safe, and you hate every bit of the situation.
Your name is Ananias, and you are a disciple of Christ.
Today, we might try to get a restraining order or call the authorities. But in the days of the early church, there was no such protection. The only logical option seemed to be hiding. And if anyone was worth hiding from, it was Saul.
But God had another idea.
One night, Ananias had a vision. The Lord appeared to him and gave him specific instructions—precise, uncomfortable, and absolutely not what Ananias wanted to hear.
“Go to the house of Judas on Straight Street and ask for a man from Tarsus named Saul, for he is praying. In a vision he has seen a man named Ananias come and place his hands on him to restore his sight.” (Acts 9:11–12)
Vision or not, Ananias was stunned. This felt impossible. Unreasonable. Dangerous.
“Lord,” he said, “I have heard many reports about this man and all the harm he has done to your holy people in Jerusalem. And he has come here with authority from the chief priests to arrest all who call on your name.” (Acts 9:13–14)
Ananias was afraid—and who could blame him? Everything in him wanted to say, “Lord, surely You don’t mean that Saul.”
But the Lord answered with one clear word:
“Go.”
And Ananias went.
He stepped into the very situation he feared… and there he witnessed the power of God to change a life. He saw the blind receive sight. He saw the persecutor become a preacher. He saw the spiritually dead rise to new life in Christ.
If Ananias had let fear win, he would have missed the miracle.
There’s a lesson here for all of us who hesitate when God calls. When we shrink back. When we assume the task is too big, too risky, too far beyond our ability.
If we say “no,” we may never see what God intended to do through us—ordinary people empowered by an extraordinary God.
May we not miss the awe‑inspiring work of the Lord because fear whispered louder than faith. God delights in using those who feel incapable to accomplish what only He can do.
And none of us want to miss that.
Watch today’s video based on Acts 9 :10-16
Spiritually Blind, Made to See
Saul hated Christians. He stood as the approving official at the execution of Stephen, the first Christian martyr. His heart burned with rage that followers of Jesus even existed. Acts 8:3 describes him this way:
“But Saul began to destroy the church. Going from house to house, he dragged off both men and women and put them in prison.”
What makes Saul’s story even stranger is that he believed in the resurrection. He knew the Scriptures taught it and defended that doctrine passionately. Yet he was spiritually blind. Instead of embracing Christ’s resurrection, he fought against it with all his strength.
Destroying the church in Jerusalem wasn’t enough. Acts 9 tells us Saul requested official letters authorizing him to arrest every Christian in Damascus. He wanted the movement wiped out. With fury in his heart, he marched toward the city, determined to silence every believer he could find.
But Saul’s plan was about to collide with God’s plan.
As he traveled down the road, a blinding light from heaven stopped him in his tracks. Then came a voice—personal, piercing, unmistakable:
“Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting Me?”
Saul was stunned. He thought he was spiritually fine—almost perfect, in fact. But now he was confronted with a truth he had never considered.
“Who are You, Lord?” he asked.
The answer shattered everything he thought he knew:
“I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting.”
Imagine the thoughts racing through his mind: He is alive. What does He want with me? Is my life over?
But Jesus had not come to destroy Saul. He had come to save him—to show him mercy, grace, and a new purpose.
“Now get up and go into the city, and you will be told what you must do.”
And so it is with all of us. We are spiritually blind until Christ opens our eyes. We are lost until He calls our name. We are guilty until He offers grace.
As Scripture says:
“The wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.” — Romans 6:23
Watch today’s video based on Acts 9:1–9 and let the story of Saul remind you: No one is beyond the reach of God’s transforming grace.
Still Sunday
It was still early on Sunday. Mary Magdalene—and apparently the other women with her—had seen the resurrected Jesus. They had gone to the disciples with astonishing news: they had seen the Lord!
But the disciples didn’t truly hear it. They heard the words, but they didn’t believe the message. Fear had a tight grip on them. They were convinced that what happened to Jesus might soon happen to them as well.
John tells us that on that first Sunday evening, the disciples were gathered in an upper room. The doors were locked—not for privacy, but because of fear (John 20). Fear of arrest. Fear of death. Fear that following Jesus would cost them everything.
Then suddenly, Jesus appeared.
I say He “popped in” because there is no mention of a door opening or being unlocked. John simply says:
“Jesus came and stood among them and said, ‘Peace be with you!’” (John 20:19)
Imagine the shock. Hearts pounding. Breath caught in their throats. Fear instantly confronted by faith. Confusion giving way to understanding. The women were right—Jesus was alive. The puzzle pieces finally fell into place.d
This truly was a great day.
The Lord’s Day.
But one disciple was missing—Thomas. I often imagine him as the realist. Jesus is dead. There’s no point pretending otherwise. Life must go on. When he finally joined the others and heard their excited report, he refused to believe.
“Unless I see the nail marks in his hands and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe.” (John 20:25)
About a week later, Jesus took Thomas up on his challenge. Once again, the disciples were gathered in the upper room. Once again, without any mention of a door opening, Jesus suddenly stood among them.
This time, He looked directly at Thomas.
“Put your finger here; see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it into my side. Stop doubting and believe.” (John 20:27)
Thomas never touched the wounds. He didn’t need to. In that moment, doubt collapsed under the weight of truth. Overwhelmed, he cried out,
“My Lord and my God!”
Thomas was not the only skeptic. There were many. But the risen Christ appeared again and again—to individuals, to groups, to crowds. Fear slowly gave way to faith. Lives were transformed. Cowards became witnesses. Doubters became believers. And the message of the risen Jesus spread to the ends of the earth.
The same risen Christ still stands among fearful hearts today.
He still speaks peace.
He still turns doubt into faith.
He still changes lives.
He wants to take your fears away as well.
Won’t you believe?
Watch Today’s video.
The First Believer
It was still very early on the first day of the week. Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome had already been to the tomb to anoint the body of Jesus. An angel told them that Jesus had risen—but they were so shaken that they fled. Trembling and afraid, they ran from the tomb, overwhelmed by fear and confusion.
Mary Magdalene, however, seems different. Confused and skeptical, yet deeply devoted, she cannot stay away. No matter how frightened she is, she must return. In her determination, Mary almost ignores the angel’s message. She is convinced Jesus is still dead, and she must find His body so she can properly anoint it. In her distress, she blurts out to the disciples,
“They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we don’t know where they have put him!”
This sets off a race to the tomb. Peter and John run ahead, with Mary trailing behind. The disciples confirm that the tomb is empty. They even see Jesus’ burial cloths lying there—but, as so often before, they cannot grasp what it all means. Instead of remembering that Jesus said He would rise on the third day, they simply return to where they were staying, puzzled and uncertain.
Mary remains behind.
She stands outside the tomb, frozen in grief. Tears stream down her face. When she looks inside, she now sees two angels. Since one had already told her Jesus was alive, they gently ask,
“Woman, why are you crying?”
Mary responds, perhaps assuming they do not understand,
“They have taken my Lord away, and I don’t know where they have put him!”
Before they can reply, she turns and sees another man standing nearby. Relieved, she likely thinks, At last—someone who can help. Believing him to be the gardener, she hears the same question again:
“Why are you crying?”
Then come the words that changed everything.
The supposed gardener speaks her name:
“Mary.”
There was something unmistakable in the way He said it. In that instant, belief replaced doubt. Sorrow turned to joy. Mary cried out,
“Rabboni!” —which means Teacher.
This was no ordinary day. This was the happiest day of all.
Christ had risen.
Mary rushes back to tell the disciples. Yet they struggle to believe her. It all sounds too impossible, too unbelievable. Still, the first day of the week is not yet over.
The First Day of the Week
In Mark’s Gospel, the resurrection begins with these simple yet powerful words:
“When the Sabbath was over.” (Mark 16:1)
Then it adds, “On the first day of the week.”
Everything changed on that first Sunday.
Before it, death reigned. Death held power over all of us. Hope seemed defeated, sealed behind a stone. But on the day after the Sabbath, Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome set out for the tomb. They carried spices, determined to fulfill their duty by anointing Jesus’ body.
They rose that morning with tears and deep hopelessness. Their Messiah was dead and buried. Their hopes were dashed. As they walked, only one question filled their minds:
“Who will roll the stone away?” (Mark 16:3)
When they arrived at the tomb, the scene quickly changed.
There was no stone to roll away. The tomb was already open! Looking inside, they saw a young man sitting on the right side. He was no ordinary young man—he was an angel. The sight was terrifying to the women. The angel appeared to be waiting for them in order to deliver a message. This is not too surprising, since the word angel means “messenger.”
“Don’t be alarmed,” he said.
Don’t be alarmed,” he said. “You are looking for Jesus the Nazarene, who was crucified. He has risen! He is not here. See the place where they laid him. 7 But go, tell his disciples and Peter, ‘He is going ahead of you into Galilee. There you will see him, just as he told you.’” (Mark 16:6-7)
At first, the message did not fully sink in. They left the tomb trembling, overwhelmed, and confused. Fear held their tongues, and they did not immediately tell the disciples. Terror and awe had seized them.
But it was still early—the first day of the week. Sunday had only begun, and many hours remained. Before that day was over, it would become the greatest day of their lives.
The first day of the week.
The day they saw Jesus.
Watch the video based on Mark 16: 1 -9
So Many Questions
During the week before the crucifixion—what we now call Holy Week—Jesus was bombarded with questions. Christianity is unusual in that it welcomes honest questions. Scripture never discourages sincere seekers. But the questions Jesus faced that week were not sincere. They were excuses—attempts to trap Him, discredit Him, or justify unbelief.
Yet Jesus answered them anyway.
One group tried to trap Him with flattery: “Teacher, you are so wise… tell us, should we pay taxes to Caesar?” They hoped He would say something illegal. Jesus saw straight through it. He asked for a coin, pointed to Caesar’s image, and replied:
“Render to Caesar what is Caesar’s, and to God what is God’s.”
Another group—the Sadducees, who denied the resurrection—posed a ridiculous puzzle. They described a woman who married seven brothers in succession, each dying without children. Then they asked:
“At the resurrection, whose wife will she be?” (Matthew 22:25–26)
Jesus knew they didn’t believe in the resurrection at all. Their question wasn’t about truth—it was about mocking the very idea of eternal life. So He corrected them gently but firmly. He told them they misunderstood both Scripture and the power of God. In the resurrection, marriage as we know it will not exist. Their trick question collapsed under its own weight.
Then came a more basic test: “What is the greatest commandment?”
Jesus didn’t hesitate:
“‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.” — Matthew 22:37–40
Beautiful. Clear. Unshakeable.
But here is the tragedy: They asked their questions, heard the answers, even marveled at Jesus’ wisdom—yet they still refused to believe. Their questions were not bridges to faith but barriers to avoid it.
There is nothing wrong with honest questions. Many people have found Christ by asking them. But the heart matters. Questions can open the door to God—or they can become excuses to keep Him at a distance.
So ask your questions. Bring your doubts. But do so with a heart willing to listen, willing to learn, willing to be changed. Let your questions draw you nearer to Christ, not farther away.
To learn more watch today’s video.
What Children Knew
The old saying that children should be seen and not heard is something Jesus would never have endorsed. In fact, He often pointed to children as examples of the kind of faith we adults need. Children trust their parents without hesitation. They depend on them instinctively. And in the same way, many children show a simple, beautiful trust in God.
I’ve seen it again and again: parents who drifted from the Lord find themselves returning because of their children. They bring them to Sunday School or VBS out of a vague sense of duty, but then they witness their children’s excitement, their sincerity, their genuine faith. Before long, the parents are learning about Christ again—led back by the very ones they thought they were leading.
In today’s passage, adults had made worship complicated. Some had turned the temple into a marketplace, treating God’s house as a business opportunity. Jesus was enraged.
“It is written,” he said to them, “‘My house will be called a house of prayer,’ but you are making it a den of robbers.’” — Matthew 21:13
Worship had drifted far from its purpose. It still happens today. We need the reminder: worship must be centered on Christ, grounded in Scripture, focused on God—not on profit, performance, or personal agendas.
Scripture tells us Jesus overturned the money changers’ tables and drove them out. He was purifying the temple. He is always purifying His church—always calling us back to Himself.
But the leaders didn’t want to hear it. They were indignant when they saw children shouting, “Hosanna to the Son of David!”—praising Jesus as the Messiah. Their worship disrupted the leaders’ business interests. So they confronted Jesus:
“Do you hear what these children are saying?”
Their implication was clear: Make them stop. Children should be quiet.
But Jesus answered with Scripture:
“‘From the lips of children and infants you, Lord, have called forth your praise.’” — Matthew 21:16
Children understood what the religious experts missed. They recognized the Messiah. They offered pure praise. They believed.
And sometimes, when we forget what faith looks like—simple, joyful, trusting—God uses our children to remind us.
To learn more watch today’s video
The Great Entrance
Jesus’ earthly mission was nearing its climax. The miracle of raising His friend Lazarus from the dead had pushed His enemies past the point of restraint. They wanted Him dead—the sooner, the better. Yet for all their scheming, they could do nothing until God’s appointed time.
The crowds, meanwhile, adored Jesus but misunderstood Him. They expected a conquering king, not a suffering servant. They longed for a political liberator, not a Savior who would conquer sin and death.
So Jesus instructed His disciples to bring Him a colt, the foal of a donkey. Conquerors like Alexander the Great or Roman generals rode magnificent white horses. Humble people—servants, laborers, the lowly—rode donkeys. Jesus chose the donkey deliberately. His entrance was a declaration of peace, humility, and prophecy fulfilled.
But even His humility could not quiet the crowds. They laid their cloaks on the road and shouted:
“Hosanna to the Son of David!” “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!” “Hosanna in the highest heaven!” — Matthew 21:9 (NIV)
The religious leaders seethed. How could they arrest a man so beloved? How could they silence the One who stirred such hope?
This moment should make us pause. Jesus was moving steadily toward the cross, yet the timing of His death was not in the hands of His enemies. It would not happen until Passover—God’s chosen moment. During Passover, families were gathered in their homes. Only the irreligious and the hypocritical leaders were out that night, plotting in the shadows.
And in God’s perfect timing, Jesus became the true Passover Lamb—sacrificed for the forgiveness of the sins of the world. His entrance into Jerusalem was not the arrival of a political hero but the beginning of the greatest act of love the world has ever known.
Watch Today’s Video to learn more.
An Ingenious but Costly Plan
Winning the world back to God unfolded in stages. First, Jesus had to come into the world, live a perfect and sinless life, suffer, die on the cross, and rise again in victory. Salvation would come through His sacrifice.
But while Jesus was on earth, He set another part of God’s plan into motion—discipleship.
Rather than trying to reach the world alone during His earthly ministry, Jesus invested deeply in a small group of followers. He taught them, walked with them, corrected them, and prepared them to carry the message forward after He returned to the Father. It was an ingenious plan: change the world by changing people who would then reach others.
Yet it was not easy.
The first disciples were not perfect heroes. In many ways, they were just like us. They struggled with pride, fear, doubt, and selfish ambition. They argued about who would be the greatest among them. Sometimes they were more focused on what they might gain than on whom they were following. On one occasion, the mother of two disciples even approached Jesus to ask that her sons be given positions of honor in His kingdom (Matthew 20:20–21).
Still, Jesus did not give up on them.
Patiently, He shaped them.
Lovingly, He corrected them.
When they failed, He restored them.
And after His resurrection, He entrusted them with the future of the gospel.
“Go and make disciples of all nations…” (Matthew 28:19)
That same mission continues today.
Jesus still calls ordinary people. He still shapes imperfect followers. And He still sends them into the world with His message of hope.
Discipleship has never been about perfection.
When we read about the disciples, it’s easy to imagine them as spiritual giants. But the truth is, they were very much like us.
At times they struggled with faith, even after witnessing Jesus’ miracles (Matthew 8:26). They were often afraid, panicking during storms and fleeing when Jesus was arrested (Mark 4:38; Mark 14:50). They misunderstood Jesus’ teachings, argued about who was the greatest, and sometimes focused on what they would gain from following Him (Mark 9:34; Matthew 19:27).
Some acted impulsively, like Peter who often spoke before thinking (John 18:10). Others showed anger or prejudice, struggling to accept people outside their circle (Luke 9:54). They even failed in the most critical moments—falling asleep when Jesus asked them to pray and promising loyalty but faltering under pressure (Matthew 26:40–41; Mark 14:29–31).
One denied Jesus. Another betrayed Him.
Yet despite all these weaknesses, Jesus did not give up on them.
He taught them, corrected them, forgave them, and ultimately transformed them. After the resurrection, these same flawed disciples became bold witnesses who carried the gospel to the world.
Their story reminds us of an encouraging truth: God does not call perfect people—He transforms willing ones.
If you sometimes feel weak, inconsistent, or unqualified, remember the disciples. The same Jesus who patiently shaped them is still shaping His followers today.
And He can use you too.
It is about willingness.
Willing to follow.
Willing to learn.
Willing to grow.
Willing to go where Jesus sends.
We are called, shaped, and sent—and we are empowered by the Holy Spirit to do what we could never do on our own.
So the question remains:
Will you respond to the call?
Watch Today’s video
Not Even the Strongest Can Do It Alone
Long before the mission of Jesus unfolded on earth, the great spiritual leader and prophet Moses learned an important lesson: no one can do God’s work alone.
That lesson first came during Israel’s battle with the Amalekites. While Joshua led the army on the battlefield, Moses went up on a hill with two trusted companions, Aaron and Hur. From there Moses lifted his hands in prayer to God.
As long as Moses’ hands were raised, Israel had the advantage. But whenever his arms grew tired and began to fall, the Amalekites started to prevail. Anyone who has tried holding their arms up for a long period of time knows how exhausting that becomes.
Scripture tells the story this way:
Exodus 17:11–13 (NIV)
“As long as Moses held up his hands, the Israelites were winning, but whenever he lowered his hands, the Amalekites were winning. When Moses’ hands grew tired, they took a stone and put it under him and he sat on it. Aaron and Hur held his hands up—one on one side, one on the other—so that his hands remained steady till sunset. So Joshua overcame the Amalekite army with the sword.”
Victory did not come through Moses’ strength alone. It came through shared support. Aaron and Hur literally held up the hands of their leader, and together they witnessed God’s deliverance.
But Moses’ need for help did not end on the battlefield.
Later, in Exodus 18, Moses was reunited with his father-in-law, Jethro. Moses joyfully told him about all the incredible things the Lord had done for Israel. Jethro praised God—but the very next day he noticed something concerning.
Moses sat alone as judge for the people from morning until evening. One by one, people came with their disputes, questions, and problems. Moses was handling every issue—both small and large. The burden was enormous, and it left little time for anything else God had called him to do.
Seeing this, Jethro lovingly confronted Moses with wise counsel:
Exodus 18:17–18 (NIV)
“What you are doing is not good. You and these people who come to you will only wear yourselves out. The work is too heavy for you; you cannot handle it alone.”
Jethro advised Moses to appoint capable and trustworthy leaders over groups of people. They would handle routine matters, while Moses would focus on the most important cases and continue seeking God on behalf of the nation. This plan would lighten the burden and allow the work to flourish.
The lesson is timeless: even God’s strongest leaders need others.
God never designed His mission to be carried by one person alone. His work moves forward when people support one another, share the burden, and serve together.
If you are serving God today, remember this truth: you were never meant to do it all by yourself. We all need people who will stand beside us, encourage us, and sometimes even hold up our hands.
And when God’s people work together, His mission moves forward in powerful ways.
Watch today’s video to learn more.
The Genius Communication Plan
The preparation for Jesus’ mission began long before Bethlehem—before the world was created. From eternity, God had a plan: that His Son would come into the world to save it. But make it personal—Jesus came to save you. He came to save your family. He came to save your children.
Jesus explained it this way:
“For God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life.” (John 3:16)
God’s mission was for the Son to become Immanuel—“God with us.” He would be born humbly in a manger, grow up largely unnoticed, and then step onto the stage of history around the age of thirty. His words carried authority unlike anyone who had spoken before. He healed the sick, opened blind eyes, and even raised the dead.
But His ultimate mission was far greater. Jesus came to be betrayed into the hands of men, to suffer and die on the cross for our sins, and on the third day to rise again in victory. Through His death and resurrection, salvation would be offered to the world.
Yet the question remained: How would this message reach the world?
God’s answer was a genius communication plan—multiplication through people.
Scripture tells us:
“Jesus went up on a mountainside and called to him those he wanted, and they came to him. He appointed twelve that they might be with him and that he might send them out to preach and to have authority to drive out demons.” (Mark 3:13–15)
Notice the key words.
“He called.”
The initiative began with Jesus. The disciples did not volunteer for a mission they invented; they responded to a call from Christ Himself. In the same way, Jesus still calls people today to share in His mission.
“Those He wanted.”
Jesus chose specific individuals. While every Christian is called to follow Christ and be a disciple, God gives each believer unique gifts and assignments. Your calling may look different from someone else’s, but it is no less important in God’s plan.
“They came to Him.”
A call requires a response. Jesus calls, but we must choose to come. His call is persuasive, urgent, and deeply personal. Before He sends us out, He first calls us to Himself.
Notice the order: “that they might be with Him” before “He might send them out.”
You cannot fulfill God’s purpose for your life without spending time with Jesus. Prayer and the Word of God are not optional—they are the foundation. We are shaped in His presence before we are sent into His mission.
And this mission continues today.
Jesus said:
“Go and make disciples of all nations…” (Matthew 28:19)
This is God’s communication plan for the world—the message of salvation spreading from life to life, heart to heart, generation to generation.
And here is the remarkable truth: you are part of that plan.
Jesus is calling you to walk with Him, to grow in Him, and to share His message with the world. The same Savior who called fishermen beside the Sea of Galilee is still calling people today.
The question is simple:
Will you come to Him—and will you go for Him?
Watch today’s video based on Mark 3:13-19.
Some Were Not Happy When a “Bad Guy” Was Reached
In the days of Jesus, tax collectors were among the most despised people in society. Under Roman rule, they often grew wealthy by collecting more than required and keeping the extra for themselves. They were viewed as traitors, greedy, and corrupt. Almost no one liked them.
So you can imagine the shock when Jesus chose to eat with one.
In Mark 2:14–17, Jesus calls Levi (also known as Matthew) from his tax booth and later dines at his house. The room is filled not only with Levi, but with other tax collectors and “sinners.” The religious leaders are appalled.
“How can He eat with tax collectors and sinners?” they ask.
Didn’t Jesus understand who these people were? Didn’t He know their reputation?
Of course He did.
Jesus was on a mission.
“For God so loved the world…” (John 3:16). Not just the respectable world. Not just the religious world. The whole world — broken, sinful, rebellious humanity. He loves you too — sin and all — so much that He gave His life so you could be forgiven and receive eternal life.
It was no accident that Jesus sat at Levi’s table that night.
The real mistake was made by those who believed they were too good to need Him.
They knew the Scriptures. They had surely read,
“All we like sheep have gone astray, each of us has turned to our own way” (Isaiah 53:6).
They knew it — but they ignored it. It is always easier to judge someone else than to examine our own hearts. Easier to point out another person’s failure than to confess our own.
So Jesus says plainly in Mark 2:17:
“It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners.”
What they failed to see was this: though they looked righteous on the outside, inside they too were sinners in need of grace.
And so are we.
The next time you are tempted to judge someone’s past, someone’s reputation, or someone’s failures, remember — Jesus came for the real you. Not the polished version. Not the Sunday version. The real you.
We all have weaknesses. We all fall short. As Scripture reminds us,
“All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23).
The good news?
Jesus still sits at tables with sinners.
And He still calls them — and us — to follow Him.
To learn more watch today’s video base on Mark 2:13-16
Forgiveness and Healing
The story in Mark 2:1–12 is one of my favorites.
Jesus is teaching inside a crowded home — so full that people are spilling out the door. The room is packed. The air is still. Every ear is tuned to His voice.
Then come four men carrying their paralyzed friend on a mat. They have heard that Jesus is home, and they are determined to get their friend to Him. But when they arrive, the doorway is blocked. The crowd is too thick to push through.
Most people would have turned around.
Not these men.
They climb to the roof, dig through it, and lower their friend down in front of Jesus. It is a bold, disruptive, desperate act of faith. In our culture, it might even be considered inappropriate. But faith is sometimes willing to tear through barriers to get to Christ.
Scripture says, “When Jesus saw their faith…” (Mark 2:5). Notice — not just the faith of the paralyzed man, but the faith of his friends.
But then something unexpected happens.
Jesus does not immediately heal him physically. Instead, He says,
“Son, your sins are forgiven.”
The teachers of the law are outraged. In their hearts they think, Who can forgive sins but God alone? They understand the implication — forgiveness is divine authority.
Jesus, knowing their thoughts, asks,
“Which is easier: to say to this paralyzed man, ‘Your sins are forgiven,’ or to say, ‘Get up, take your mat and walk’?”
Then He answers His own question:
“So that you may know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins…”
He turns to the man and says,
“I tell you, get up, take your mat and go home.”
And the man stands up and walks out in full view of them all.
But here are the two truths we must not miss:
First, his spiritual healing mattered more than his physical healing.
Jesus addressed his deepest need before his visible one.
Second, the physical miracle was proof of the invisible miracle.
The healing of his body demonstrated Christ’s authority to forgive his sins.
We often come to Jesus asking Him to fix what hurts physically, financially, or emotionally. And He cares about those needs. But He cares even more about our souls.
The greatest miracle in this story is not that a man walked — it is that a sinner was forgiven.
And Jesus still forgives.
If you will come to Him — even desperately, even boldly — He will meet you. Ask. Believe. Trust His authority and His compassion.
He may heal your circumstances.
But He will always heal your soul.
To learn more, watch today’s video based on Mark 2:3–12.
Hungry for Jesus
When I was in my late teens, our youth group exploded with growth. By the time I became one of the leaders, we were already meeting on Mondays for serious Bible study. Our “Seeker” services on Wednesdays and Thursdays had grown so large they filled the sanctuary to capacity.
But what I remember most is not the numbers — it was the hunger.
When our youth pastor spoke, there was a holy silence in the room. Afterward, students lingered — some to give their lives to Christ, some to ask for prayer, some simply to be together with Christian friends. No one was rushing out the door. No one was checking the time. We were hungry for Jesus.
That’s how it was in Scripture when Jesus spoke.
In Mark 2:1–2, we read:
“A few days later, when Jesus again entered Capernaum, the people heard that he had come home. They gathered in such large numbers that there was no room left, not even outside the door, and he preached the word to them.”
A few things stand out:
There was little warning — people simply heard Jesus was there and came running.
They were willing to stand, crowding inside and outside the house.
They pressed in because they were desperate to hear the Word.
They weren’t attending out of routine. They weren’t there to fulfill a religious obligation. They were hungry for the living Word of God.
And that is how it is meant to be.
Yet if we are honest, it is not always like that for us. We come to church tired. Sometimes we argue on the way. We think about lunch plans or the busy week ahead. The message can be forgotten before we reach the parking lot. Church becomes routine rather than revival.
But church was never meant to be routine. The Word was never meant to bore. Worship was meant to transform.
Jesus calls us back to that first love. In Revelation 2:4–5, He says:
“You have forsaken the love you had at first. Consider how far you have fallen! Repent and do the things you did at first.”
He also reminds us in Matthew 5:6:
“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.”
God fills hungry hearts.
The question is not whether Jesus is still speaking. The question is whether we are still hungry.
Let us come eager. Let us come expectant. Let us come desperate for His Word — ready to linger in His presence, ready to respond, ready to be changed.
“Lord, make us hungry again.”
To learn more, watch today’s video based on Mark 2:1–2.
The Light Enters the World
A Devotional from John 1:9–13
“The true light that gives light to everyone was coming into the world.”
For nearly 400 years between the Old Testament and the coming of Christ, there was silence. No prophets. No new revelation. The people of Israel lived under political oppression and spiritual longing. They carried promises—but no fresh word.
And then, quietly and humbly, the Light entered the world.
Not with armies.
Not with political power.
Not with spectacle.
But as a child.
John writes in the Gospel of John:
“He was in the world, and though the world was made through him, the world did not recognize him.”
The Creator stepped into His creation—and many did not even notice.
How could this be?
Jesus did not arrive in the halls of power. He did not demand attention. He lived most of His life in obscurity. The long-awaited Messiah stood in their midst, yet expectations blinded many to His presence.
John continues:
“He came to that which was his own, but his own did not receive him.”
He was not welcomed as King. He was rejected, misunderstood, and ultimately crucified. Yet what appeared to be failure was, in truth, the fulfillment of God’s saving plan. The rejection of Christ became the doorway to redemption.
But rejection is not the final word.
“Yet to all who did receive him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God.”
Here is the heart of the Gospel.
Salvation is not earned by heritage.
It is not secured by effort.
It is not achieved by human will.
It is received by faith.
To believe in Jesus is to trust who He is—the eternal Word, the true Light—and to trust what He has done through His life, death, and resurrection. Those who receive Him are given something astonishing: a new identity.
Not merely forgiven sinners.
Not merely improved people.
But children of God.
Born not by human striving, but by God Himself.
The Light entered the world so that you might know God personally, walk in His light daily, and live as His beloved child.
John’s question echoes through the centuries—and into our hearts today:
Have you received Him?
Reflection
Have I personally received Christ, or have I only admired Him from a distance?
Is there any way I might be overlooking how He is at work in my life right now?
Am I living as someone who truly believes I am a child of God?
To learn more watch today’s video base on John 1.9-13.
God’s Witness to the Light
“In Him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.”
Jesus is not only Creator—He is the source of life itself. Every breath we take, every beat of our heart, and every hope of eternal life begins in Him.
John tells us that this life is light.
Light reveals what is hidden.
Light brings clarity where there is confusion.
Light gives direction when we cannot see the path ahead.
Darkness, in Scripture, represents sin, evil, fear, confusion, and brokenness. We all know what that darkness feels like—moments of doubt, hidden struggles, secret sin, lingering grief. Yet John makes a bold declaration: the darkness has not overcome the light.
It may resist it.
It may attempt to hide from it.
But it cannot defeat it.
One evening, as I turned onto the road near our home, a coyote was prowling in the darkness. The moment my headlights lit up the road, it fled. The light didn’t argue with the darkness. It didn’t negotiate. It simply shone—and the darkness retreated.
That is the power of Christ in our lives.
When His light shines into our hearts, it exposes sin—not to shame us, but to heal us. It drives away what hides in the shadows. It brings freedom where there has been fear. When we walk with Christ, we walk in the light.
“There was a man sent from God whose name was John.”
This is John the Baptist—not the author of the Gospel of John, but the forerunner of Christ.
John had a clear calling. He was not the light. He did not try to be the light. He simply pointed to the light.
His mission was to prepare hearts through repentance so that people would recognize Jesus when He came.
There is something deeply freeing about that. We are not called to save anyone. We are not the source of life. We are not the light.
We are witnesses.
Like John the Baptist, our role is to point—through our words, our love, our integrity, and our faith—to the One who truly gives life. When we shine His light, others can see their way out of darkness.
To go learn more, watch today’s video on John 1:4–8 today and ask God to show you how His light is already at work in your life.
The Mission
Jesus did not come merely to inspire us, impress us, or instruct us. He came with a mission—a mission that began long before Bethlehem, long before Mary and Joseph, long before the foundation of the world.
When we open the Gospel of John, we don’t find shepherds or wise men. Instead, we are taken back into eternity:
“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.”
John uses the Greek word logos—“Word.” In the ancient world, logos meant reason, logic, the organizing principle behind everything. It was the idea that gave meaning and order to the universe.
But John makes a stunning declaration: God’s ultimate logic, God’s communication, God’s self-expression is not a concept. It is a Person.
Jesus is the Word.
Before time began, He already was. He was not created. He was not an afterthought. He did not come into existence at Bethlehem. He was with God—and He was God. Distinct in person, yet fully divine. Eternal. Almighty. The second person of the Trinity.
And then John writes:
“Through Him all things were made; without Him nothing was made that has been made.”
Everything you see.
Everything you touch.
Every star in the sky.
Every breath in your lungs.
All of it came through Him.
This means something deeply personal: the One who came to save you is the One who made you.
His mission was not reactive. It was eternal. Before you were born, before you struggled, before you sinned, before you ever thought about Him—He already knew. And He already planned redemption.
Jesus came to save you.
Your family.
Your neighbors.
Even the people who are hard to love.
His mission is nothing less than the redemption of the world—and it began in eternity.
To learn more watch today’s video base on John 1.1-3
The Secret Mission of Jesus: No One Understood
The coming of Jesus was not only humble—it was, in many ways, hidden. God’s plan unfolded quietly, beyond the understanding of the powerful and the wise of this world. The apostle Paul explains it this way:
“None of the rulers of this age understood it, for if they had, they would not have crucified the Lord of glory… What no eye has seen, what no ear has heard, and what no human mind has conceived—the things God has prepared for those who love him—these are the things God has revealed to us by his Spirit.”
(1 Corinthians 2:8–10)
Why such secrecy? Why such quiet beginnings? In part, it was to confuse and thwart those who would try to stop God’s plan. The rulers of this world did not recognize what God was doing, and even their attempts to resist Him only fulfilled His purposes.
God announced Jesus’ birth to shepherds in the fields, but the news did not reach King Herod until much later, when the wise men arrived in Jerusalem asking, “Where is the one who has been born king of the Jews?” The question shook the palace.
Herod was a ruthless and fearful ruler, a man who would stop at nothing to protect his throne. When he heard of the Messiah’s birth, he ordered the massacre of the infants in Bethlehem. It was a tragic and evil act—but even this could not stop God’s plan. The Savior was preserved, and the mission of redemption continued.
This reminds us of a powerful truth: God’s purposes cannot be defeated. Human power, fear, and even great evil cannot overturn what God has determined to accomplish. And just as God was at work in hidden ways then, He is often at work in ways we cannot yet see in our own lives.
To learn more watch today’s video based on 1 Corinthians 2.
The Covert Beginnings
There were no television commercials, no royal proclamations, and no national celebrations announcing Jesus’ birth. The greatest rescue mission in human history began quietly—almost unnoticed—under the humblest of conditions.
Centuries earlier, the prophet Micah foretold this surprising beginning:
“But you, Bethlehem Ephrathah,though you are small among the clans of Judah,out of you will come for meone who will be ruler over Israel,whose origins are from of old,from ancient times.”
(Micah 5:2)
God’s plan did not begin in the grand cities and powerful centers of the world. It began in Bethlehem, a small and modest town—far from the world’s idea of influence and importance. Yet this was no accident. The Messiah had to come from the lineage of King David, and Bethlehem was David’s city.
God had promised David long before:
“I took you from the pasture, from tending the flock, and appointed you ruler over my people Israel… I will raise up your offspring to succeed you… and I will establish the throne of his kingdom forever.”
(2 Samuel 7:8–13)
What a striking contrast:
A humble town.
A young, unmarried teenage mother.
A difficult journey and a crowded place where no one made room.
And yet, in those quiet and unlikely circumstances, God was fulfilling promises made centuries before. The world may overlook small places and ordinary people, but God often chooses what seems humble to accomplish what is eternal.
Perhaps there are moments when our own lives feel unnoticed or small. This passage reminds us that God is still at work in quiet places, in ordinary days, and in hearts that make room for Him. The Savior who came in humility still works in humble lives today.
To learn more, watch today’s video.
The Secret Mission: Planned from Eternity
Jesus came to earth with a mission. He did not come merely to be a good teacher, to set a moral example, or even to perform miracles. Jesus came to save—to redeem people from every walk of life, including you and me. His mission was nothing less than the redemption of the world.
The Gospel of John begins by reminding us that this mission was not an afterthought. “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God” (John 1:1). The term Word (logos) speaks of God’s ultimate communication and expression. John reveals that this Word is not an idea but a Person—Jesus Christ. He existed before creation and is fully God. Through Him all things were made.
John goes on to say, “In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it” (John 1:4–5). Jesus is the source of life and the light that drives away darkness. Sin, confusion, and brokenness cannot overcome Him. Wherever His light shines, truth is revealed and hope is restored.
Christ’s coming was planned from eternity, and His light still shines today. When we walk with Him, we walk in the light—guided, forgiven, and given life that never ends.
To learn more watch today’s video based on John 1:1-5.