23 Days Until Easter

John 15:4–5

“Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in me. I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing.”

In John 15, Jesus gives one of the clearest pictures of what the Christian life is meant to look like. He describes Himself as the vine and His followers as the branches. A branch has no life in itself. Its ability to grow and produce fruit depends entirely on its connection to the vine. The life of the vine flows into the branch.

Jesus uses that picture to explain our relationship with Him.

He calls His followers to abide in Him. Abiding simply means remaining connected. It is the ongoing, dependent relationship where we stay closely connected to Christ so that His life continues to flow into ours.

Sometimes when we think about our spiritual life, we imagine it happening in certain moments at certain times in certain places. Maybe it is a Sunday morning gathering, a small group meeting, or a quiet time with a Bible and a cup of coffee. Those moments are important, but they are not the full picture of what Jesus is describing here.

Jesus is inviting us into something ongoing.

Abiding is not just a moment of connection. It is a continual posture of dependence. It is the kind of relationship where we remain aware of His presence throughout the rhythm of everyday life. In many ways it connects with the idea Paul later describes when he says to pray without ceasing. It is a life lived in constant communion with God.

That means abiding does not only happen in quiet spiritual moments. It happens when we wake up in the morning and begin the day. It happens during meals. It happens while we are at work, while we are driving, while we are making decisions, and while we are navigating the challenges of life. It happens in the moments when we feel strong in our faith and in the moments when we feel weak. It happens when life feels peaceful and when life feels chaotic.

Abiding is simply learning to lean on Christ in every moment.

And when that connection is real, something begins to grow in our lives. Jesus says that when a branch remains in the vine, it bears fruit. The fruit of the Christian life is not something we force into existence. It grows naturally when we stay connected to the source of life.

As we move closer to Easter, this passage reminds us that the Christian life is not built on occasional spiritual moments. It is built on an ongoing relationship with Jesus. A life that continually leans on Him, trusts Him, and remains connected to Him in every season.

Prayer

Lord, teach me what it truly means to abide in You. Help me remain connected to You throughout the rhythms of everyday life. Let Your life flow through me so that my thoughts, actions, and words reflect Your presence. In Jesus’ name, amen.

24 Days Until Easter

Isaiah 53:4–6

“Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows; yet we esteemed him stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted. But he was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his wounds we are healed. All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned—every one—to his own way; and the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all.”

Isaiah 53 is one of the most remarkable passages in the entire Old Testament. Written hundreds of years before the birth of Jesus, it describes a suffering servant who would carry the weight of humanity’s brokenness. When you read it with the cross in mind, it becomes clear that Isaiah was pointing forward to what Christ would accomplish.

What stands out most in this passage is the language of substitution.

Isaiah describes the servant as someone who carries our griefs and bears our sorrows. The suffering described here is not random. It is not simply an unfortunate circumstance. The servant is wounded for our transgressions and crushed for our iniquities. In other words, the suffering that falls upon Him is suffering that belonged to us.

That is the heart of the gospel.

Humanity had wandered away from God. Isaiah describes it like sheep going astray, each one turning to his own way. That picture is incredibly accurate when you think about the human condition. We naturally drift toward our own direction, our own desires, and our own understanding of what is right. But the consequence of that wandering is separation from God.

And instead of leaving humanity in that state, God did something extraordinary.

The weight of that rebellion was placed upon the servant. Jesus stepped into the place that belonged to us. The punishment that brought peace fell on Him. Through His wounds, healing became possible. What we could never repair on our own, Christ carried for us.

That truth is why Isaiah 53 is so important as we move toward Easter. The cross was not simply a tragic moment in history. It was the moment where the burden of sin was dealt with. The suffering of Jesus was not just an example of sacrifice. It was the means through which reconciliation became possible.

The more you reflect on this passage, the more you begin to see the depth of God’s love. The wandering of humanity was real. But so was the mercy that stepped into our place.

And because of that mercy, the story does not end at the cross.

Prayer

Lord, thank You for the sacrifice of Jesus. Thank You that He carried the burden that I could never carry on my own. Help me never lose sight of the depth of Your love and the grace that was displayed at the cross. In Jesus’ name, amen.

25 Days Until Easter

Matthew 7:7–8

““Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives, and the one who seeks finds, and to the one who knocks it will be opened.”

In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus gives an invitation that is both simple and deeply encouraging. He tells His followers to ask, seek, and knock. At first it sounds straightforward, but the structure of what Jesus says reveals something important about how prayer works in the life of a believer.

Each word describes persistence.

Asking is bringing your request before God. Seeking goes a step further. It involves actively pursuing God’s direction and presence. Knocking carries the image of someone standing at a door and continuing to knock until it is opened. Together these words paint a picture of ongoing engagement with God rather than a single moment of prayer.

That matters because many people approach prayer expecting immediate results. When the answer does not come quickly, it can create uncertainty. People begin to wonder whether God is listening or whether they are doing something wrong. But Jesus is preparing His followers for something different. Prayer is not just about presenting a request once and moving on. It is about continually coming back to the Father with trust.

Jesus reinforces this by repeating the promise. Everyone who asks receives. The one who seeks finds. The one who knocks will have the door opened. The emphasis here is not on human persistence forcing God’s hand. It is on the confidence that comes from knowing who we are approaching.

God is not distant or indifferent. He is a Father who invites His children to come to Him.

This means prayer is not meant to be a last resort when everything else fails. It is meant to be a daily rhythm of relationship. As we ask, seek, and knock, we are reminded that we are not navigating life on our own. We are bringing our needs, our questions, and our hopes before a Father who hears us.

And often, something important happens in the process. The more we seek Him, the more our hearts begin to align with His. The more we knock, the more we grow in trust that the door will open in the right time and in the right way.

As we continue moving toward Easter, this passage reminds us that prayer is not about getting the exact outcome we imagined. It is about learning to walk closely with the Father who invites us to come to Him again and again.

Prayer

Lord, thank You for inviting me to come to You in prayer. Help me continue asking, seeking, and knocking with confidence in Your goodness. Teach me to trust that You hear me and that You are working even when the answer takes time. In Jesus’ name, amen.

26 Days Until Easter

Matthew 6:19–21

““Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”

In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus addresses something that reaches into every part of our lives. He talks about treasure. At first glance it might sound like He is speaking only about money, but the idea is much bigger than that. Treasure represents whatever we value most. It reflects what we invest our time in, where our energy goes, and what we give our attention to.

Jesus contrasts two kinds of treasure. One belongs to this world, where things wear out, break down, and eventually disappear. The other belongs to the kingdom of God, where what we invest has lasting significance. Then Jesus makes a statement that is incredibly revealing. Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.

That line shows us something important about how our hearts work. We often assume our treasure simply follows our heart. We think we invest in what we already care about. But Jesus flips the idea. Our hearts often follow our treasure. The things we consistently invest in begin shaping what we care about most.

When I think about that, I cannot help but come back to the local church. It may sound like the stereotypical answer coming from a pastor, but I genuinely believe there is no better place to invest your time and your finances than in the local church. The things we build here on earth will eventually fade. The things we buy here on earth cannot come with us. Houses, possessions, achievements, all of it stays here.

But the work of God in people’s lives carries eternal weight.

The only thing we ultimately take with us is our soul. And the mission of the church is centered on that reality. It is a place where people encounter the gospel, where lives are transformed, where families are strengthened, and where the message of Jesus continues to reach the next person who needs to hear it. Investing in that kind of work is not just investing in something temporary. It is participating in something eternal.

As we move toward Easter, this passage invites us to take an honest look at where our treasure is going. Not out of guilt, but out of clarity. Because wherever we invest, our hearts will eventually follow.

And when we invest in what God is doing, we are placing our treasure in something that will outlast this life.

Prayer

Lord, help me place my treasure in what truly matters. Give me wisdom to invest my time, energy, and resources in things that carry eternal value. Align my heart with Your kingdom and the work You are doing in the world. In Jesus’ name, amen.

27 Days Until Easter

Luke 9:23

“And he said to all, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me.”

Jesus says something in this verse that is both incredibly simple and incredibly demanding. He explains what it actually looks like to follow Him. Anyone who wants to come after Him must deny themselves, take up their cross daily, and follow.

That word daily matters more than we often realize.

We live in a world that is becoming increasingly desensitized to long term commitments. There was a time when people would stay in the same job for decades, remain rooted in the same town, and pursue marriage with the expectation that it would last a lifetime. While those things still exist, culturally there has been a shift. Stability and steadfastness are not as common as they once were. Many things in life have become temporary, flexible, and easily replaceable.

Because of that, the idea of something happening daily and indefinitely can feel overwhelming.

When Jesus calls His followers to take up their cross daily, He is not describing a short season of enthusiasm. He is describing a lifelong rhythm of surrender. And for people who have not been shaped by long term commitments, that can initially feel daunting. The idea that following Jesus is not just a decision made once but a path walked every day can feel like a heavy expectation.

But the beauty of what Jesus says is that He does not ask us to carry the entire future at once. He simply calls us to today.

Daily discipleship means that every morning we wake up with the opportunity to choose Him again. It means that our faith is not built on a single moment of inspiration but on the steady rhythm of obedience. Over time those daily decisions shape a life. One day becomes another, and another, and another, until what once felt daunting becomes the normal pattern of walking with Christ.

This is how real transformation happens.

Not through one dramatic moment, but through consistent faithfulness. The daily surrender of our plans, our priorities, and our direction into the hands of Jesus. And the good news is that we do not walk that road alone. The same Savior who calls us to follow Him is the one who walks with us each step of the way.

So today, do not focus on the weight of forever. Focus on the invitation of today. Take up your cross today. Trust Him today. Follow Him today.

Prayer

Lord, help me follow You in the everyday rhythm of life. Teach me what it means to take up my cross daily and trust You with each step. Give me the strength to remain faithful today and the confidence that You will lead me tomorrow. In Jesus’ name, amen.

28 Days Until Easter

John 10:27–28

“My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of my hand.”

When Jesus describes Himself as the Good Shepherd, He uses a picture that would have been very familiar to the people listening. A shepherd did not simply manage animals from a distance. He lived among the flock. He knew them, and they learned to recognize his voice. That relationship is what Jesus points to when He says His sheep hear His voice, He knows them, and they follow Him.

For many people, the idea of recognizing God’s voice can feel mysterious or even intimidating. We sometimes wonder how we can tell the difference between God’s leading and all the other voices competing for our attention. But the picture Jesus gives is not built on a formula. It is built on familiarity.

I remember a moment that helped me understand this better. I was talking with a group of people when a baby started crying somewhere in the room. The dad I was speaking with immediately noticed it but calmly continued the conversation because he knew it was not his child. A little later another baby started crying, and to me it sounded identical to the first one. But this time the dad instantly turned his head and said, “That’s mine.” I remember thinking that was strange. From where I was standing, both cries sounded exactly the same. It was not until I had children of my own that I understood it. When you spend enough time with someone, you begin to recognize their voice immediately. In a room full of noise, you can still pick it out without hesitation.

The same principle applies to our relationship with Christ. Learning to recognize His voice is not primarily about developing a technique. It comes from spending time with Him. As we stay rooted in His Word, as we pray, as we walk with Him over time, we become familiar with His character and His ways. His voice begins to stand out from the noise.

Jesus also gives a powerful promise in this passage. He says that He gives His sheep eternal life and that no one can snatch them out of His hand. That means the relationship between the shepherd and the sheep is not fragile. It is not dependent on our ability to hold onto Him perfectly. It is secured by His ability to hold onto us.

As we move closer to Easter, this passage reminds us that following Jesus is not about trying to decipher distant instructions. It is about walking closely with the One who knows us and calls us by name. The more time we spend with Him, the clearer His voice becomes.

Prayer

Lord, thank You for being a shepherd who knows me personally. Help me grow in my ability to recognize Your voice as I spend time with You. Quiet the other voices around me and teach me to follow where You lead. In Jesus’ name, amen.

29 Days Until Easter

2 Corinthians 12:9

“But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.”

In this passage Paul shares something deeply personal. He speaks about a “thorn in the flesh,” something that caused him ongoing difficulty, something he asked God multiple times to remove. Paul believed that if this burden were taken away he could serve more freely and more effectively. But instead of removing the thorn, God responded in a different way. The answer Paul received was that God’s grace was sufficient and that His power is made perfect in weakness.

That response challenges the way we often think.

Most of us naturally view our weaknesses and limitations as barriers in life. We see them as walls or ceilings that keep us from stepping into what we believe God has for us. If only this were different. If only this obstacle were removed. If only this limitation did not exist. It is easy to assume that those things restrict what God can do through us.

But Paul’s experience reveals a different reality.

Sometimes the very things we believe limit us are the places where God’s grace shows up the strongest. The areas where we feel least capable can become the very spaces where God’s power becomes most visible. When we come to the end of what we can accomplish on our own, we finally find ourselves in the place where His strength begins to take center stage.

I have often been surprised by how that works. The moments where I look at a situation and see very little hope, where I feel like I do not have the capacity to carry it, those are often the moments where God does something unexpected. The places where I see limitation are the places where He brings life. The places where I feel like the path has reached a dead end are often where God begins to do something that could only be described as His work.

This is why weakness is not the enemy of the Christian life.

Self-sufficiency is.

When everything depends on our own ability, we can easily begin to believe that the outcome came from us. But when we reach a place where we know we cannot do it on our own, God’s grace becomes unmistakable. His strength stands out because it is clear that it did not originate from us.

As we continue moving toward Easter, this passage reminds us that the Christian life is not about presenting strength to God. It is about bringing our weakness to Him and trusting that His grace is enough. The very areas where you feel limited may be the places where God intends to display His power most clearly.

Prayer

Lord, thank You that Your grace is sufficient for me. In the moments where I feel weak or limited, remind me that those are often the very places where Your strength is at work. Help me depend on You more deeply and trust that You can bring hope even in the places where I struggle to see it. In Jesus’ name, amen.

30 Days Until Easter

Matthew 5:3–6

““Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted. “Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth. “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied.”

When Jesus begins the Sermon on the Mount, He immediately describes the kind of people who belong to the kingdom of God. What is surprising is that the first quality He highlights is not strength, confidence, or spiritual accomplishment. Instead, He says that the kingdom belongs to those who are poor in spirit. That phrase can easily be misunderstood, especially when we read it through the lens of our culture. We tend to associate spiritual strength with having everything together, appearing steady, and showing no signs of weakness. But Jesus begins in a completely different place.

To be poor in spirit is not to be spiritually deficient. It is not a lack of faith, and it is not a collapse of assurance. Poverty of spirit is the recognition that we are completely dependent on God. It is the opposite of self-sufficiency. It is the posture of someone who understands that life with God is not sustained by personal strength or spiritual performance, but by humble reliance on Him.

I think a lot of times in the Christian life there can be pressure to perform. Once someone becomes a follower of Christ, there can be an unspoken assumption that everything should now look perfect. While it is good to desire a life that reflects Christ well, that pressure can sometimes lead people to believe they must always appear spiritually strong. The reality is that the journey of sanctification includes moments where we feel rich in spirit and moments where we feel very aware of our need. Those moments of need are not signs that something has gone wrong. They are often the very places where dependence becomes most real.

One of the clearest pictures of this in Scripture is Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane. In that moment, Jesus was not spiritually deficient, faltering in faith, or empty of assurance. Quite the opposite. What we see there is the depth of His humanity expressed in complete dependence on the Father. The weight of what was before Him was real, and instead of distancing Himself from the Father, He moved toward Him in prayer. His response was not independence, but communion. Not resistance to the Father’s will, but surrender to it. That moment reveals something profound. Poverty of spirit is not weakness. It is the willingness to bring your full need before the Father and remain in trusting obedience.

That is the kind of posture Jesus is describing in the Beatitudes. The kingdom of God belongs to those who recognize their need for Him, who refuse to live on self-reliance, and who walk in humble dependence. The world often celebrates the person who appears strong and self-sufficient. But the kingdom begins with people who know they cannot do this on their own.

And that is good news.

Because it means the door into the kingdom is not reserved for those who have everything together. It is open to those who come honestly, recognizing their need and placing their trust in God.

Prayer

Lord, teach me what it truly means to be poor in spirit. Remove the pressure to rely on my own strength and help me live in humble dependence on You. Shape my heart so that I continually turn toward You in trust and obedience. In Jesus’ name, amen.

31 Days Until Easter

Micah 6:8

“He has told you, O man, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?”

Micah 6:8 is one of those verses that brings incredible clarity to what God is actually looking for in our lives. Sometimes faith can feel complicated. We can get caught up wondering if we are doing enough, saying the right things, or following the right spiritual rhythm. But this passage cuts through all of that and reminds us that God’s desire for His people has always been deeply relational and deeply practical.

The prophet lays it out simply. Do justice. Love mercy. Walk humbly with your God.

When we hear language like this today, it is easy for our minds to immediately jump into larger cultural conversations. Words like justice and mercy often get pulled into political spaces or public debates. But Micah is not writing a political platform. He is speaking to the everyday posture of God’s people. The focus is not on movements or systems first, but on the character of the individual believer and the way that character shows up in daily life.

Doing justice begins with living with integrity. It means treating people rightly, making decisions that reflect what is good and true, and refusing to cut corners when it would benefit you. Loving mercy moves beyond simply showing mercy when it is required and begins to shape the way you see people. It is developing a heart that is eager to extend grace rather than quick to hold onto offense. And walking humbly with God anchors everything else. It reminds us that our lives are not centered on our own wisdom or ability, but on a relationship with the Lord that shapes the way we think and live.

This verse is powerful because it brings the focus back to the heart. It is not about trying to prove something outwardly or align yourself with the loudest voices around you. It is about allowing God to shape the way you live right where you are. Justice in your decisions. Mercy in your relationships. Humility in your walk with Him.

That kind of life is not flashy, but it is incredibly powerful. It is the kind of life that quietly reflects the character of God in everyday moments.

And that is the invitation today.

As you move through your day, look for opportunities to live this out in simple ways. Treat people fairly. Extend mercy quickly. Stay humble in your walk with God. These are not grand gestures. They are daily choices that, over time, shape a life that reflects Him.

Prayer

Lord, help me live the kind of life You desire. Teach me to act with integrity, to love mercy in my relationships, and to walk humbly with You each day. Shape my heart so that my faith is seen in the way I live. In Jesus’ name, amen.

32 Days Until Easter

Ephesians 4:32

“Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you.”

As we move deeper into this journey toward Easter, one of the things that becomes increasingly clear in Scripture is that what God does in us is meant to shape how we live with others. The grace we receive is not meant to stop with us. It is meant to flow through us. That is exactly what Paul is getting at when he calls believers to be kind, tenderhearted, and forgiving toward one another.

The key to understanding this verse is the final phrase. We forgive one another just as God in Christ forgave us. That is a beautiful statement, but it can also feel intimidating. When we look at the way Christ forgives, it is perfect, complete, and sacrificial. Many times we read that and immediately think about the gap between His perfection and our own limitations.

I think that is where people often get stuck.

We understand that we are called to forgive as Christ forgave us, but we also recognize that we are not Christ. Because of that, it can be easy to assume that the standard is simply too high, that we cannot measure up to it, and therefore we quietly lower the expectation in our own lives. But that gap is not meant to become an excuse.

It is meant to become a direction.

As we follow Jesus, the process of sanctification is God shaping us more and more into the image of His Son. That means the things that mark Christ’s character begin to grow in us over time. His patience, His mercy, His forgiveness. None of us reflect those things perfectly, but the trajectory of our lives should move in that direction. The standard is not lowered simply because we are still growing.

Instead, we keep moving toward it.

That means when forgiveness feels difficult, we do not dismiss it. We lean into it. We ask God to help us reflect His heart more clearly. The same grace that has been extended to us is the grace we are learning to extend to others.

And that is where this passage becomes very practical. Forgiveness is not pretending something did not hurt. It is choosing not to hold onto it in a way that hardens your heart. It is releasing the right to keep score and trusting that God’s justice and grace are greater than our ability to manage the situation.

As we move toward Easter, the cross reminds us what forgiveness actually costs. Jesus did not offer forgiveness from a distance. He carried the weight of it. And because we have received that kind of mercy, we are invited to let it shape the way we live with others.

Forgiven people forgive people.

Prayer
Lord, thank You for the forgiveness I have received through Christ. Continue shaping my heart to reflect Yours. Help me not to use my limitations as an excuse, but instead allow Your Spirit to grow mercy and grace in me so I can forgive others the way You have forgiven me. In Jesus’ name, amen.

33 Days Until Easter

Proverbs 3:5–6

“5 Trust in the Lord with all your heart,
and do not lean on your own understanding.
6In all your ways acknowledge him,
and he will make straight your paths.”

Proverbs 3 is one of those passages that many people know, but it is easy to miss how challenging it actually is to live out. Trusting God sounds simple until you find yourself in a moment where you do not have clarity. We naturally want to understand, to map things out, to know where something is going before we fully commit to it. We want direction before we take the step.

But there are seasons where that clarity is not there.

Scripture itself shows us that. There was a long stretch between the Old Testament and the New Testament where there was no new prophetic word, no fresh direction being given. The people were still waiting on the Messiah, still holding onto what God had already said, but without new clarity on how or when it would unfold. That silence did not mean God was absent. It did not mean He did not have a plan. It simply meant He was not giving additional direction in that moment.

And that is where trust becomes real.

Because when I find myself in seasons where I do not have clarity on what God is doing, my natural tendency is not to stop, but to keep moving in the direction He has already led. To stay anchored in what I know to be true. To live by the principles found in Scripture rather than being driven by how I feel in the moment. Feelings shift. Circumstances change. But God’s Word remains steady.

That is what this passage is pointing us toward.

Trust in the Lord with all your heart and do not lean on your own understanding means that when your perspective is limited, you do not elevate it above what God has already revealed. You continue to walk in obedience based on what you know, even when you do not know everything. You acknowledge Him in all your ways, not just when things are clear, but especially when they are not.

And the promise is that He will make your paths straight.

Not because you figured it all out, but because you trusted Him enough to keep walking.

So today, if you find yourself in a place where things feel unclear, do not let that stop you. Go back to what God has already said. Stay rooted in His Word. Keep taking faithful steps in the direction He has already revealed.

Clarity may come.

But obedience does not have to wait for it.

Prayer
Lord, help me trust You even when I do not have full clarity. Keep me grounded in Your Word and not driven by my feelings. Teach me to walk in obedience based on what You have already revealed, and to trust that You are leading even when I cannot see it. In Jesus’ name, amen.

34 Days Until Easter

Luke 15:11–24

“11And he said, “There was a man who had two sons.12And the younger of them said to his father, ‘Father, give me the share of property that is coming to me.’ And he divided his property between them. 13Not many days later, the younger son gathered all he had and took a journey into a far country, and there he squandered his property in reckless living. 14And when he had spent everything, a severe famine arose in that country, and he began to be in need. 15So he went and hired himself out to one of the citizens of that country, who sent him into his fields to feed pigs.16And he was longing to be fed with the pods that the pigs ate, and no one gave him anything.

17 “But when he came to himself, he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired servants have more than enough bread, but I perish here with hunger! 18I will arise and go to my father, and I will say to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you. 19I am no longer worthy to be called your son. Treat me as one of your hired servants.”’20And he arose and came to his father. But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and felt compassion, and ran and embraced him and kissed him. 21And the son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’ 22But the father said to his servants, ‘Bring quickly the best robe, and put it on him, and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet. 23And bring the fattened calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate. 24For this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found.’ And they began to celebrate.”

Luke 15 gives us one of the clearest pictures of the heart of God. Jesus tells the story of a son who takes what belongs to him, walks away from his father, and wastes it. It is not a slow drift. It is a decision to leave, to do life on his own terms, and eventually that decision leads him to a place of emptiness. What once felt like freedom turns into desperation, and he realizes that life apart from his father is not what he thought it would be.

So he decides to go back.

But the walk back is not simple.

I think for many people, that walk is filled with shame and presuppositions about how it is going to go. There is this internal dialogue happening, wondering how they will be received, how much distance there will be, what kind of response is waiting on the other side. It is similar to the idea of a bandaid. The anticipation of pulling it off feels worse than the actual moment itself. You build it up in your mind. You hesitate. You brace for what you think is coming.

That is exactly where the son is.

He prepares a speech. He lowers his expectations. He is not coming back expecting restoration. He is coming back hoping for survival. In his mind, he is no longer a son. At best, he can be a servant.

But the reality is completely different.

Before he can even make it all the way back, the father sees him from a distance and runs toward him. No hesitation. No interrogation. No holding him at arm’s length. He embraces him and restores him fully. The robe, the ring, the celebration, it all points to one truth. The son’s identity was never lost, even if his direction was.

And that is where this lands for us.

So often, the hardest part is not God’s response, it is our expectation of it. We build it up. We assume distance. We assume disappointment. We assume we have to earn our way back into closeness. But the heart of the Father has not changed.

He is not waiting to push you back.

He is ready to bring you in.

So if there is any area of your life where you have been hesitant to return, do not let the anticipation keep you stuck. Do not let the buildup in your mind keep you from taking the step.

Just turn.

You may find that what you were bracing for is not what meets you at all.

Prayer
Lord, thank You that Your heart toward me is not distant, but full of compassion. Help me not to project my assumptions onto You. Give me the courage to return quickly and trust that You receive me fully. In Jesus’ name, amen.

35 Days Until Easter

John 1:5

“The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.”

John opens his Gospel with a powerful truth that frames everything that follows. He describes Jesus as light, not just symbolically, but as the source of life and clarity in a world that is marked by darkness. And then he makes a statement that is simple, but incredibly strong. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.

When we read that today, it is easy to picture artificial light, lamps, light bulbs, things we can turn on and off. But when this was written, the primary reference point for light would have been the sun. Fire existed, but the sun was the constant. It was the defining source of light that marked the rhythm of every single day. And what I have come to realize is that no matter how dark a season may feel, I have never experienced a day where the sun did not rise.

There may be clouds.

There may be storms.

There may be moments where you cannot see it clearly.

But it is still there.

That is the picture John is giving us. The light of Christ is not something that flickers based on circumstances. It is not something that disappears when things feel heavy or unclear. It is constant. Even when you cannot see it fully, it is still present, still shining, still doing what light does.

And this matters, because there are seasons where life feels dark. Not always in a dramatic way, but in a way where things feel uncertain, where direction is not clear, where you are trying to navigate what is in front of you without full visibility. In those moments, the temptation is to assume that something has shifted, that maybe God is distant or that His presence is not as near as it once felt.

But John reminds us that is not the case.

The light shines.

Not sometimes.

Not only when things are clear.

Always.

And the darkness has not overcome it.

That means whatever you are walking through right now, whatever feels unclear or heavy, it does not have the final word. The presence of Christ is not dependent on your ability to see clearly in the moment. He is still there. He is still working. He is still shining.

So today, even if things feel cloudy, hold onto what is true. The sun still rises. The light still shines. And the darkness has not overcome it.

Prayer
Lord, thank You that Your light is constant even when my circumstances are not. Help me to trust that You are present and at work, even in seasons where things feel unclear. Give me confidence in Your unchanging nature and remind me that darkness does not have the final word. In Jesus’ name, amen.

36 Days Until Easter

Psalm 51:1–2

“Have mercy on me, O God, according to your steadfast love; according to your abundant mercy blot out my transgressions. Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin.”

Psalm 51 is not theoretical. It is not written from a distance. It comes out of a moment where David is fully aware that he has fallen short, and instead of hiding from God or trying to manage the situation on his own, he brings it directly to Him. What stands out is not just that he confesses, but how he approaches God in the middle of it. He does not appeal to his track record. He does not try to balance out his failure with past obedience. He throws himself completely on the mercy of God.

That is a posture we do not naturally drift toward.

From the very beginning, baked into the Genesis story, is the reality of shame. It showed up in the garden and it has been present ever since. When Adam and Eve sinned, their instinct was not to run toward God, but to hide. That same instinct still lives in us. We do not want people to see certain parts of our lives, and if we are honest, we can carry that same mindset into our relationship with God. Not because we actually believe He does not see it, but because shame makes us want to cover it.

So instead of bringing things into the light, we manage them. We try to clean ourselves up. We attempt to fix what we can before we come to Him.

But David does the opposite.

He brings it all out in the open and asks God to do what only God can do. He is not asking for a second chance to try harder. He is asking to be made clean. That is a completely different mindset. One is rooted in self-effort, the other is rooted in dependence.

And this is where this psalm speaks directly into our lives. When God begins to surface things in us during a season like this, the invitation is not to hide or to manage, it is to bring it to Him. Not cleaned up, not filtered, not delayed. Just honest.

Because shame says hide.

Grace says come closer.

And when you begin to trust that God’s response to your honesty is mercy, not rejection, it changes everything. Confession stops being something you avoid and becomes something that draws you in.

Today, if there is something you have been carrying or covering, bring it to Him. Let Him meet you in it. Let Him do the work that you cannot do on your own.

Prayer
Lord, thank You that I do not have to hide from You. You already see me fully, and yet You still invite me to come. Give me the courage to bring everything into the light and trust Your mercy to meet me there. In Jesus’ name, amen.

37 Days Until Easter

Matthew 11:28–30

“Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

This passage has always been personal for me. If you walked into my house and looked at my bathroom mirror, you would see this verse taped to it. It has been there for years. I first put it there during a season where everything felt incredibly heavy. It was in the middle of the pandemic, there were a lot of unknowns, and it felt like I was trying to carry more than I was built to hold. This verse became a daily reminder that I was not meant to carry it all on my own.

But over time, my understanding of this passage began to deepen.

At first, I saw it as an invitation to bring my burdens to Jesus because life felt overwhelming. And that is absolutely true. But as I continued to sit with it, I began to realize something else. There is actually something good about feeling a weight that is too much for you. Not because the weight itself is the goal, but because it reveals your dependence. It brings you to a place where you recognize that what you are stepping into cannot be sustained by your own strength.

I have come to desire that.

I do not want to live my life in a way where everything I am doing can be accomplished on my own ability, my own planning, or my own strength. I want to take steps that require the presence of God. I want to walk in a way where if He does not show up, it does not work. Because that is the place where dependence becomes real, not just something we talk about, but something we live.

And that is what Jesus is inviting us into here.

“Come to me.”

Not come to a better system. Not come to a more efficient way of managing your life. Come to Him. The promise is not that the weight disappears, but that it is carried differently. That in walking closely with Him, learning from Him, being aligned with Him, what once felt crushing begins to shift.

Because you are no longer carrying it alone.

There is a difference between a life that is overwhelming because you are trying to hold everything together, and a life that requires God because you are walking in step with Him. One leads to exhaustion. The other leads to dependence. And in that dependence, Jesus says you will find rest for your soul.

Not because everything around you becomes easy, but because you are finally carrying it the way you were meant to.

Prayer
Lord, thank You that I do not have to carry life on my own. Teach me to come to You daily, not just when things feel heavy, but as a way of living. Help me to walk in a way that depends on You, trusts You, and learns from You. Let my life reflect a need for Your presence in everything I do. In Jesus’ name, amen.

38 Days Until Easter

Romans 5:8

“But God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.”

One of the most important things to understand about the love of God is when it shows up. Romans 5:8 makes it clear that God’s love does not meet us on the other side of our effort, but right in the middle of our brokenness. It says that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us, which means the starting point of God’s love is not our improvement but our need. If we are not careful, we can begin to build a mindset where we feel like we need to get things together before we fully experience God’s love, like we need to be more consistent, more disciplined, or more put together in order to draw near to Him. We may never say that out loud, but it shapes the way we live.

A lot of that comes from how we naturally understand relationships. In most areas of life, there is a give and take. If you do something for someone, there is an expectation that it will come back around. You treat people well who treat you well. That is how the world keeps track of things. But Jesus calls us to love our enemies, and that lines up directly with what Paul is saying here. While we were still sinners, while we were actively rebelling, while we were living in opposition to God, His response was not distance, it was pursuit. His love was not based on our alignment with Him, but on His character toward us.

That flips everything.

It means God’s love is not a response to our goodness. It is the reason we can become different. It means the cross is not the reward for getting it right, but the foundation for a new way of living. So when we step into a season like this, whether we are fasting something or simply creating more space with God, we are not trying to earn anything. We are responding to something that is already true. We are not moving toward love. We are moving from it.

And that changes how we walk with Him. Confession becomes honest instead of guarded. Surrender becomes freeing instead of heavy. Obedience becomes a response instead of a requirement for acceptance. You are not trying to prove something to God today. You are living from the reality that He has already moved toward you.

Prayer
Lord, thank You that Your love meets me right where I am. Help me stop trying to earn what You have already given. Teach me to live from Your grace, not for it, and to respond to You with a heart that is secure in Your love. In Jesus’ name, amen.

39 Days Until Easter

Isaiah 55:6–7

“Seek the Lord while he may be found; call upon him while he is near; let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts; let him return to the Lord, that he may have compassion on him, and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon.”

There is a weight to this passage that we do not always slow down enough to feel. Isaiah says, “Seek the Lord while he may be found.” That means there are moments in our lives where God is drawing us in a very real and personal way, moments where conviction is clear, where something comes to the surface, and where we know deep down that something needs to shift.

The challenge is not usually awareness.

It is response.

Because the jump from thought to action is obedience.

We can recognize what God is doing. We can feel the conviction. We can even agree with it. But stepping into it, actually turning, actually surrendering, that is where it becomes real. That is why Isaiah uses such active language. Seek. Call. Forsake. Return. This is not passive. It requires movement.

And it is not just external movement.

It is internal.

Isaiah says to forsake not only your way, but your thoughts. This is not just about behavior. This is about allowing God to reshape how we think, how we respond, and how we live. It is a full reorientation of the heart.

And here is what makes that possible.

God’s character.

Isaiah does not say return to the Lord so He can evaluate you. He says return so that He can have compassion on you. Return because He will abundantly pardon. God is not looking to barely forgive you. He is not measuring out grace in small portions. When He forgives, He does it fully.

So when God draws your attention to something, that is not something to delay.

That is an invitation.

And in this season, whether you are fasting something specific or simply creating more space for God, the principle remains the same. When He speaks, we respond. Not perfectly, but honestly. Not eventually, but now.

Because what He is calling you to release is always less than what He is inviting you into.

Prayer
Lord, help me move from awareness to obedience. Give me the courage to respond when You are drawing me. Teach me to trust Your compassion and not delay what You are making clear. In Jesus’ name, amen.

40 Days Until Easter

Psalm 139:23–24

“Search me, O God, and know my heart. Try me and know my thoughts. And see if there be any grievous way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.”

One of the most difficult things we can do is invite God to examine what is really going on beneath the surface. It is one thing to slow down, create space, and remove distractions. It is another thing entirely to ask God to step into that space and reveal what is actually in our hearts.

David’s prayer is direct. “Search me.” Not observe me from a distance. Not affirm what is already good. Search me. Know my heart. Try me. See what is really there.

And if we are honest, that can feel uncomfortable.

Because no matter what title we carry, whether it is Christian, husband, pastor, leader, wife, school teacher, nurse, employee, or employer, we all stand in need of God’s grace. And when we ask Him to search us, we often already know the areas that need attention. The places where we have fallen short. The places we would rather not bring into the light.

But instead of starting there, we tend to redirect.

We invite Him into the safe places.

We avoid the real one.

There is something powerful that happens when we stop doing that and say, God search every corner of my life. Not just the parts that feel manageable, but the parts that feel uncomfortable. Not just the things I am ready to surrender, but the things I have been holding onto.

That is where transformation begins.

David continues, “lead me in the way everlasting.” The goal is not exposure alone. It is transformation. What God reveals, He intends to redeem.

Whether you are fasting something specific or simply creating intentional space with God, the invitation is the same. Do not just fill the space with activity. Let God meet you in it. Let Him speak. Let Him reveal. Let Him guide.

Today, pray this slowly. Not as routine, but as surrender.

Prayer

Lord, search me and know my heart. Reveal anything in me that is not aligned with You. Give me the humility to see it and the courage to surrender it. Lead me in the way everlasting and continue Your work in me during this season. In Jesus’ name, amen.

41 Days Until Easter

Matthew 6:16–18

“And when you fast, do not look gloomy like the hypocrites, for they disfigure their faces that their fasting may be seen by others… But when you fast, anoint your head and wash your face, that your fasting may not be seen by others but by your Father who is in secret.”

As we walk through this Lenten season, it is important to acknowledge something from the very beginning. Not everyone is participating in a traditional fast. Some may be giving something up, others may simply be leaning in more intentionally, creating space for God through time in His Word and prayer. But regardless of what that looks like for you, the principle remains the same.

This is about making room for God.

This is about shifting our attention, our dependence, and our desire back toward Him.

Jesus speaks directly into that in Matthew 6. He does not say if you fast. He says when you fast. In other words, there is an expectation that there will be moments in our lives where we intentionally set something aside in order to draw closer to God. But just as quickly, He redirects the focus. Do not make it about being seen. Do not make it about appearance. Do not make it about other people.

Because the danger is not just in whether or not we fast.

The danger is in why we do anything at all.

Something that was meant to be deeply personal can slowly become performative. Something that was meant to draw us closer to God can become something that draws attention to ourselves. And if we are not careful, even good spiritual disciplines can drift in that direction.

But Jesus calls us back to something deeper.

Your Father who sees in secret.

Whether you are fasting something specific or simply creating space to meet with God more intentionally, the invitation is the same. Let it be real. Let it be personal. Let it be between you and the Lord.

We live in a world where so much of what we do is tied to external recognition. But there is something deeply powerful about doing something that no one else sees. About opening your Bible in the quiet. About choosing prayer over distraction. About building a rhythm that is not for display, but for your soul.

May you be encouraged today that the time you spend with God is not wasted. It does not need to be publicized to be powerful. The quiet, unseen moments are often where God does His deepest work.

Today, remember that your Father sees what others do not.

And that is more than enough.

Prayer

Lord, help me center this season on You. Whether I am fasting or simply creating space, let it be real and not performative. Teach me to pursue You in the secret place, and remind me that what is done for You in private is never wasted. In Jesus’ name, amen.

42 Days Until Easter

John 11:25–26

“Jesus said to her, ‘I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live, and everyone who lives and believes in me shall never die.’”

One of the unique rhythms of Lent is that every Sunday carries a different tone. While the days leading up to it are marked by reflection, repentance, and even a kind of spiritual fasting, Sunday breaks through with a reminder that we are not walking toward the cross without hope. Every Sunday is a quiet echo of Easter.

In the middle of a season that invites us to slow down, examine our hearts, and even sit in some discomfort, we are reminded of something unchanging. Jesus is the resurrection and the life.

That means that even now, life is breaking through.

In John 11, Jesus speaks these words in the middle of grief. Lazarus has died. The situation feels final. There is confusion, sorrow, and a sense that things did not go the way they were supposed to. And it is right there, not after everything is fixed but in the middle of the tension, that Jesus declares who He is.

“I am the resurrection and the life.”

Not I will be. Not someday. I am.

That matters for us, especially in a season like this, because it is very easy for us to slip into routine and begin to believe that there are areas of our lives that are off limits to God. We can quietly accept that certain things will never change, certain situations will never turn, certain prayers will never be answered.

But as we move closer and closer to Easter, we are reminded of something greater.

There is nothing outside of the resurrection power of Jesus.

Lent is not about sitting in heaviness without hope. It is about learning to see clearly. It is about recognizing that even in repentance, even in surrender, even in the wilderness, resurrection power is already at work.

This is why Sundays matter.

They remind us that the story is not over.

They remind us that death does not win.

They remind us that whatever feels final in your life right now is not beyond the reach of Jesus.

You may still be walking through something unresolved. You may still be waiting. You may still be carrying questions. But today is a reminder that life is found in Him, not just at the end of the journey, but right here in the middle of it.

As you move through this Lenten season, do not lose sight of that.

We are walking toward Easter.

And even now, resurrection is already breaking through.

Prayer
Jesus, thank You that You are the resurrection and the life. In the middle of this season, remind me that hope is not distant. It is present in You. Strengthen my faith, meet me in the tension, and help me trust that You are working even now. In Jesus’ name, amen.