Holy Wednesday | The Silence Before the Cross
4 Days Until Easter
Once again, lot’s of scripture this week as we lead up to Easter. Read today’s in your own Bible or at bible.com
Matthew 26:1–5
Mark 14:1–2
Luke 22:1–6
Isaiah 53:7
“When Jesus had finished all these sayings, he said to his disciples, ‘You know that after two days the Passover is coming, and the Son of Man will be delivered up to be crucified.’ Then the chief priests and the elders of the people gathered in the palace of the high priest… and plotted together in order to arrest Jesus by stealth and kill him.” (Matthew 26:1–4) “For the Son of Man goes as it has been determined, but woe to that man by whom he is betrayed!” (Luke 22:22) “He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth; like a lamb that is led to the slaughter…” (Isaiah 53:7)
Holy Wednesday is quiet. After the intensity of Monday and the direct confrontation of Tuesday, everything seems to slow down. There is no major public moment, no crowds, no tables being flipped, no long public teaching, and yet that does not mean nothing is happening. Behind the scenes, everything is moving. Religious leaders are meeting in private, quietly finalizing their plans. Judas is stepping into the shadows, making arrangements that will change everything. And Jesus, fully aware of it all, is not reacting, not scrambling, not trying to regain control. He is waiting.
And if I am honest, that is one of the hardest things to do, because waiting has a way of exposing what we really trust. We live in a world where everything moves fast, where information is instant and responses are expected immediately. Even a short delay can feel frustrating. Waiting fifteen minutes can feel like an eternity, and if that waiting stretches out, it starts to weigh on you. I found myself doing that even recently, checking something over and over again, refreshing the page, wondering what the outcome would be. And even though I knew it probably would not matter that much in the long run, there was still that pull, that need to know, that small space where uncertainty starts to take root. That is the thing about waiting, even a little uncertainty can begin to grow into something bigger if we let it, because in the waiting we feel the lack of control, we feel the unknown, and we feel the silence.
That is exactly where Holy Wednesday sits. Jesus knows what is coming. He knows the cross is not just near, it is certain. He knows betrayal is already in motion. He knows the timeline, and still He does not rush it, He does not force a different outcome, and He does not break the silence. He submits to it. Isaiah had already said it would be this way, like a lamb led to the slaughter He would not open His mouth, not because He is powerless, but because He is surrendered, not because He is unaware, but because He trusts the Father completely. That is a different kind of strength, and it challenges us, because when we are in seasons where things feel unclear, when outcomes are not fully in our hands, when we are sitting in that space between what we know and what we do not know, our instinct is to reach for control, to figure it out, to push, to fix, to force movement. But Jesus shows us something different. He shows us that not every quiet season is empty. Some of them are full of purpose. Some of them are the very place where God is working the most, even if we cannot see it yet.
Holy Wednesday reminds us that just because it is quiet does not mean God is absent. It may mean that something is being prepared. And the question for us is not just what is happening around us, but what is happening within us while we wait, because waiting will either grow our trust or it will grow our anxiety, and often the difference comes down to what we choose to believe about God in the silence. As we move closer to Easter, this is an invitation to trust Him in the quiet, to trust Him in the unknown, to trust Him even when there is just enough uncertainty to make us uncomfortable, because the same God who was working behind the scenes on Wednesday was preparing for resurrection on Sunday, and He is still working, even when we cannot see it.
Prayer
Lord, help me trust You in the waiting. When I feel the tension of uncertainty and the pull to take control, remind me that You are still at work. Teach me to rest in Your timing and to trust that even in the silence, You are moving. In Jesus’ name, amen.
Holy Tuesday | Truth in the Tension
5 Days Until Easter
Once again, lot’s of scripture this week as we lead up to Easter. Ready today’s in your own bible or at bible.com
Matthew 21:23 through Matthew 24
Holy Tuesday is one of those days that, if you really sit in it, it gets heavy in the best kind of way. This is not a quiet teaching moment. This is not Jesus easing people into truth. He walks back into the temple after what happened on Monday, and immediately the tension is there. The religious leaders step in and start questioning His authority, but this is not curiosity. This is control. They are trying to trap Him, discredit Him, and protect what they have built.
And Jesus does not sidestep it.
He leans all the way in.
He answers them, but then He goes further. He starts telling parables that expose what is really going on underneath the surface. The two sons, the tenants, the wedding feast. Every one of them is pulling back another layer. On the outside, everything looks right. Structure is there. Language is there. Position is there. But underneath it, there is resistance. There is a refusal to actually submit to what God is doing.
And this is where the day really sharpens.
Jesus is not just correcting behavior. He is confronting a heart posture. In Matthew 23, He speaks in a way that is direct, clear, and impossible to ignore. He calls out the reality of looking clean on the outside while being out of alignment on the inside. He calls out the danger of knowing the truth but not living it. He calls out the weight of leading others while not being surrendered yourself.
And here is what stands out.
He does all of this knowing exactly where the week is going.
He knows the cross is coming. He knows this is escalating everything. And He still speaks with full clarity. No softening. No pulling back. Because truth matters that much.
Then the conversation shifts, and this is where it goes even deeper. In Matthew 24, Jesus begins talking about what is coming. Not just what is about to happen in Jerusalem, but what is coming at the end. And the theme is the same. Be ready. Be watchful. Do not confuse proximity with alignment. Do not assume that being around spiritual things means you are actually walking with God.
That is the thread running through the entire day.
And if we are honest, this is where it starts to hit.
Because it is very possible to be around the things of God and still be out of alignment with Him. It is possible to know the language, to be in the environments, to be doing the right kinds of things, and still have areas of life that are not surrendered. It is possible to want truth when it comforts, but resist it when it corrects.
And Jesus is not okay leaving that alone.
Not because He is trying to push people away, but because He is trying to bring them into what is real.
Holy Tuesday is a day of alignment. It is Jesus stepping into the middle of everything and drawing a clear line between appearance and reality. Between knowing and living. Between being close and actually following.
And the question it leaves us with is simple but weighty.
Do I want to be affirmed, or do I want to be aligned?
Because truth will always do one of two things. It will either humble you, or it will harden you.
As we move closer to Easter, this is a moment to let truth do its work. Not just to hear it, not just to agree with it, but to actually let it shape the way we live.
Prayer
Lord, search my heart and show me anything that is out of alignment with You. Help me not settle for appearances when You are calling me to something deeper. Give me the humility to receive Your truth and the courage to walk it out. In Jesus’ name, amen.
Holy Monday | The Cleansing of the Temple
6 Days Until Easter
Lot’s of scripture this week as we lead up to Easter :-)
Matthew 21:12–17
And Jesus entered the temple and drove out all who sold and bought in the temple, and he overturned the tables of the money-changers and the seats of those who sold pigeons. He said to them, “It is written, ‘My house shall be called a house of prayer,’ but you make it a den of robbers.” And the blind and the lame came to him in the temple, and he healed them. But when the chief priests and the scribes saw the wonderful things that he did, and the children crying out in the temple, “Hosanna to the Son of David!” they were indignant, and they said to him, “Do you hear what these are saying?” And Jesus said to them, “Yes; have you never read, “‘Out of the mouth of infants and nursing babies you have prepared praise’?” And leaving them, he went out of the city to Bethany and lodged there.
Mark 11:15–19
And they came to Jerusalem. And he entered the temple and began to drive out those who sold and those who bought in the temple, and he overturned the tables of the money-changers and the seats of those who sold pigeons. And he would not allow anyone to carry anything through the temple. And he was teaching them and saying to them, “Is it not written, ‘My house shall be called a house of prayer for all the nations’? But you have made it a den of robbers.” And the chief priests and the scribes heard it and were seeking a way to destroy him, for they feared him, because all the crowd was astonished at his teaching. And when evening came they went out of the city.
Luke 19:45–48
And he entered the temple and began to drive out those who sold, saying to them, “It is written, ‘My house shall be a house of prayer,’ but you have made it a den of robbers.” And he was teaching daily in the temple. The chief priests and the scribes and the principal men of the people were seeking to destroy him, but they did not find anything they could do, for all the people were hanging on his words.
John 2:13–17
The Passover of the Jews was at hand, and Jesus went up to Jerusalem. In the temple he found those who were selling oxen and sheep and pigeons, and the money-changers sitting there. And making a whip of cords, he drove them all out of the temple, with the sheep and oxen. And he poured out the coins of the money-changers and overturned their tables. And he told those who sold the pigeons, “Take these things away; do not make my Father’s house a house of trade.” His disciples remembered that it was written, “Zeal for your house will consume me.”
Isaiah 56:7
these I will bring to my holy mountain, and make them joyful in my house of prayer; their burnt offerings and their sacrifices will be accepted on my altar; for my house shall be called a house of prayer for all peoples.”
Jeremiah 7:11
Has this house, which is called by my name, become a den of robbers in your eyes? Behold, I myself have seen it, declares the Lord.
I want to slow this one down a little, because Holy Monday is one of those moments that, if we rush past it, we miss how strong it really is. Jesus walks straight into the temple, the center of worship, and what He finds is not what it was meant to be. It is filled with noise, activity, systems, and transactions. Money changers are exchanging currency, merchants are selling animals for sacrifice, and while those things may have once served a purpose, they have now taken over the very thing they were meant to support. What was supposed to facilitate worship has begun to replace it.
And Jesus does not ease into this moment. He flips tables, drives people out, and declares that this place was meant to be a house of prayer, but it has become something else entirely. This is where the moment challenges the way many of us picture Him. We often imagine Jesus as always calm, always soft, always smiling, but here we see a different side. We see a rugged Jesus, full of conviction, unwilling to let what belongs to God be distorted or crowded out. This is not loss of control. This is holy, righteous zeal.
When He speaks, He is drawing directly from Scripture. He points back to Isaiah where God says His house is meant to be a house of prayer for all nations, and then to Jeremiah where the issue was not just corruption but people going through religious motions while their hearts were far from God. And here is what makes this even more significant. The space that had been taken over was the outer court, the very place designed for those on the outside to come and encounter God. The place meant to make room for people had been filled with distraction. What was supposed to draw people in had begun to push them away.
And Jesus clears it.
Then immediately, everything shifts. The blind are healed. The lame are healed. Children begin to praise Him. The same space that was filled with distraction is now filled with restoration and worship. That is not accidental. When Jesus removes what is out of place, He always makes room for what matters most.
And this is where it becomes personal, because now we are the temple. This is not just about a building, it is about our lives. It is worth asking honestly if there are things that have taken a place that belongs to God. Not always obvious sin, sometimes just noise, busyness, or even good things that have slowly crowded out prayer and intimacy with Him. We can still be active, still doing things, but something is off.
Holy Monday reminds us that Jesus is not passive about that. He loves us enough to step in and confront what is out of place, not to condemn us, but to restore what matters most. He does not cleanse the temple to leave it empty. He cleanses it so that His presence can fill it again, so that healing can happen again, and so that worship can rise again.
Prayer
Lord, search my heart and show me anything that has taken a place that belongs to You. Clear out the noise, the distractions, and anything that is crowding out my relationship with You. Restore in me a heart that is centered on Your presence, Your Word, and prayer. In Jesus’ name, amen.
The King Who Entered
7 Days Until Easter
Matthew 21:8–11
“Most of the crowd spread their cloaks on the road, and others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road. And the crowds that went before him and that followed him were shouting, “Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest!” And when he entered Jerusalem, the whole city was stirred up, saying, “Who is this?” And the crowds said, “This is the prophet Jesus, from Nazareth of Galilee.””
In Matthew 21, Jesus enters Jerusalem in what we often call the triumphal entry. Crowds gather. People lay their cloaks on the road. Others cut branches and spread them out before Him. There is shouting, celebration, and a sense that something significant is happening. The atmosphere is filled with expectation.
Everyone feels like this is the moment.
And if I am honest, I have had moments like that in my own life.
Moments where it felt like everything was lining up. Where it seemed like God was clearly moving in a certain direction. Where I could almost see how things were going to play out. There is a certain excitement in those seasons. A confidence that what is coming next is going to unfold exactly the way you envision it.
But what I have learned over time is that just because I can see a direction does not mean I fully understand what God is doing.
The crowd in Jerusalem was not wrong to celebrate Jesus. They were right in recognizing that He was the King. But they misunderstood the kind of king He came to be. They were expecting immediate victory, visible change, and a kingdom that would take shape in a way they could fully grasp.
Instead, Jesus entered the city on a donkey.
Not in power as they imagined, but in humility. Not to take a throne in the way they expected, but to move toward a cross they did not see coming.
And that is where this passage becomes personal.
Because I have found that there are moments in life where I celebrate what I think God is doing, only to realize later that He was doing something deeper than I understood at the time. What looked like one kind of breakthrough was actually preparation. What felt like a clear direction was actually part of a bigger story I could not yet see.
That does not make those moments wrong.
It just means my perspective was limited.
The crowd’s praise was real, but incomplete. And in many ways, that is true for us as well. We can genuinely follow Jesus and still have moments where we do not fully understand His ways.
As we move closer to Easter, this passage invites us into a deeper kind of trust. Not just celebrating Jesus when things align with our expectations, but following Him even when His path looks different than what we had in mind.
Because the same King who entered Jerusalem in humility was moving toward something far greater than the crowd could imagine.
And often, God is doing the same in our lives.
Prayer
Lord, help me trust You not only in the moments that make sense, but also in the ones that don’t. When my expectations don’t match Your plans, give me the faith to keep following You. Teach me to trust that You are always working, even when I don’t fully understand. In Jesus’ name, amen.
Set Like Flint
8 Days Until Easter
Isaiah 50:6–7
“I gave my back to those who strike, and my cheeks to those who pull out the beard; I hid not my face from disgrace and spitting. But the Lord God helps me; therefore I have not been disgraced; therefore I have set my face like a flint, and I know that I shall not be put to shame.”
Isaiah 50 gives us a powerful glimpse into both the suffering and the resolve of the coming Messiah. In these verses, we see the reality of what Jesus would endure. He is struck, mocked, and humiliated, yet He does not turn away.
That is a striking picture.
Jesus does not stumble into suffering. He does not retreat from it. He faces it directly. The pain is real. The rejection is real. The shame is real. And yet He remains fully committed to what the Father has called Him to do.
Then Isaiah gives us this phrase.
He set His face like flint.
Flint is hard. It does not move easily. It is fixed, determined, unshaken. This is not a picture of someone reluctantly moving forward. It is a picture of unwavering resolve. Jesus knows exactly what is ahead, and He is fully committed to walking that path.
And the reason is clear.
Because the Lord helps Him.
This is not self-generated strength. It is not sheer willpower. It is confidence rooted in the presence and help of God. Jesus is able to move forward with unwavering determination because He knows He is not alone.
And this is where it begins to connect with our own lives.
I think there have been plenty of moments where I knew exactly what God was calling me to do, but everything in me wanted to take a step back instead of forward. It is rarely confusion that holds me back. Most of the time it is the weight of what obedience is going to cost. Whether that is stepping into something uncomfortable, having a difficult conversation, or making a decision that affects other people, there is usually a real tension there.
What I have found is that clarity from God does not remove the difficulty of the decision, but it does anchor me in it.
There have been moments where I have had to remind myself that if God is the one leading, then He is also the one sustaining. I do not have to manufacture the strength to walk it out on my own. My responsibility is obedience. His responsibility is everything else.
And practically, that often looks like taking the next step instead of trying to solve everything at once. When I start thinking too far ahead, it becomes overwhelming. But when I focus on simply saying yes to what God has put directly in front of me, it becomes manageable.
I also think back on the times where I have stepped forward in obedience and seen God show up. That track record matters. It builds confidence. It reminds me that even when the moment is difficult, God has been faithful before and He will be faithful again.
So when I think about setting my face like flint, it is not about becoming hard or unfeeling.
It is about becoming settled.
Settled in the fact that if God has called me to it, then turning back is not the better option. It is moving forward with quiet confidence, trusting that God will meet me there.
As we move closer to Easter, this passage reminds us that Jesus did not waver. He stepped forward with full awareness and full trust. And because He did, redemption was secured.
Prayer
Lord, give me the kind of resolve that trusts You fully. When the path is difficult, help me not turn away, but to move forward with confidence that You are with me. Strengthen me to walk in obedience, knowing that You are my help. In Jesus’ name, amen.
Willing Surrender
9 Days Until Easter
Luke 22:42
“saying, “Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me. Nevertheless, not my will, but yours, be done.””
In Luke’s account of Gethsemane, we are given a focused glimpse into the heart of Jesus. As He prays, He says, Father, if You are willing, remove this cup from Me. Nevertheless, not My will, but Yours, be done.
This is one of the clearest pictures of surrender in all of Scripture.
Jesus is not disconnected from what He is about to face. He fully understands the weight of the cross. The suffering is real. The cost is real. And in His humanity, He expresses that honestly before the Father. If there is another way, let this pass.
But He does not stop there.
Nevertheless.
That word marks the turning point.
Jesus does not allow His desire to override His obedience. He brings the full reality of what He feels into the presence of the Father and then willingly submits to the will of God. This is not forced surrender. It is willing surrender.
And that tension is something we all experience.
The reality is that all of us walk through seasons that last longer than we wish they would and feel heavier than we expected. Even when we recognize something as a season, there is still a part of us that hopes it will pass quickly. In those moments, our prayers often sound very similar to Jesus in the garden. We ask if it could be taken away. We ask if there might be another way.
But there is something powerful about what happens next.
When we remain faithful in those moments, when we continue to trust God even while desiring for the situation to change, those are some of the clearest expressions of obedience and dedication to Him. Not when everything is easy, but when it is not. Not when the path is clear, but when it feels uncertain and we still choose to trust.
That is where surrender becomes real.
As we move closer to Easter, this passage reminds us that Jesus did not avoid the difficult path. He stepped into it with trust. And in doing so, He shows us what it looks like to remain faithful, even when we wish the season would pass.
Prayer
Lord, help me trust You in the seasons that feel long and difficult. Give me the strength to remain faithful even when I desire for things to change. Teach me to say not my will, but Yours, and to trust that You are working in every moment. In Jesus’ name, amen.
Watch and Pray
10 Days Until Easter
Matthew 26:41
“Watch and pray that you may not enter into temptation. The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.””
In the garden of Gethsemane, just moments after Jesus has poured out His heart before the Father, He returns to find His disciples asleep. The weight of the moment is immense, yet they are unable to stay awake. Jesus responds with a simple but powerful instruction. Watch and pray so that you may not enter into temptation. The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.
That statement reveals something deeply true about the human condition.
There is often a genuine desire within us to follow God. We want to live rightly. We want to be faithful. We want to say yes to what God is calling us to do. But alongside that desire is a very real weakness. Left to ourselves, we drift. We get tired. We become distracted. The flesh pulls us in directions that do not align with what we know to be true.
Jesus does not ignore that tension. He addresses it directly.
Watch and pray.
To watch means to be spiritually alert. It is the awareness that what is happening beneath the surface matters. It is recognizing that there is more going on than what we can see in the moment. To pray is to stay connected to the source of strength. It is bringing our weakness before God and depending on Him rather than relying on our own ability.
And part of that awareness is knowing when we are most vulnerable.
I think it is incredibly important to recognize the areas and moments when we are most likely to drift. For many people, those moments happen in isolation. When we are alone, disconnected, and not anchored in community, it becomes easier for our thoughts to wander and for temptation to take root. Even in the garden, we see Jesus stepping into one of the most intense moments of His life while the disciples around Him fall asleep. There is a sense of isolation in that moment that heightens the weight of what He is facing.
It also often happens when we are tired.
Late at night, when our guard is down and our energy is low, can be some of the most vulnerable moments we experience. That is often when the darkest thoughts begin to surface and when we are most prone to drift.
That is why the words of Jesus matter so much.
Watch and pray.
Be aware of those moments. Do not ignore them. Bring them before God. Stay connected to Him in the very places where you know your strength is limited.
As we move closer to Easter, this passage reminds us that following Jesus requires more than good intentions. It requires awareness. It requires dependence. And it requires a life that continually turns toward God, especially in the moments we know we are weakest.
Prayer
Lord, help me recognize the moments where I am most vulnerable. Teach me to stay spiritually alert and to depend on You through prayer. When my spirit is willing but my flesh is weak, remind me that You are the source of the strength I need. In Jesus’ name, amen.
Not My Will
11 Days Until Easter
Matthew 26:36–39
“Then Jesus went with them to a place called Gethsemane, and he said to his disciples, “Sit here, while I go over there and pray.” And taking with him Peter and the two sons of Zebedee, he began to be sorrowful and troubled. Then he said to them, “My soul is very sorrowful, even to death; remain here, and watch with me.” And going a little farther he fell on his face and prayed, saying, “My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as you will.””
In this passage, we are brought into one of the most intimate and weighty moments in the life of Jesus. The garden of Gethsemane is not a place of public teaching or visible miracles. It is a place of prayer, surrender, and deep anguish.
Jesus brings His disciples with Him, but then He steps a little farther away. This is something He must face in a deeply personal way. Scripture tells us that He began to be sorrowful and troubled. The weight of what is ahead is pressing in. The cross is no longer distant. It is right in front of Him.
And Jesus does something incredibly important.
He prays.
He falls on His face before the Father and says that if it is possible, let this cup pass from Him. That statement reveals the depth of His humanity. The suffering He is about to endure is real. The weight of sin, the separation, the cost, it is all before Him.
But He does not stop there.
Not my will, but Yours.
That is surrender.
And when we read this moment, it is easy to think of surrender as something reserved for massive, life-defining decisions. We picture these Gethsemane moments as rare, overwhelming turning points where everything hangs in the balance. And while those moments do exist, that is not the full picture of how surrender actually works in the Christian life.
Most of the time, surrender is much smaller.
It shows up in the daily moments where our desires do not naturally align with what God has called us to. The decision to respond with patience instead of frustration. The choice to step into obedience instead of comfort. The willingness to align our thoughts, actions, and words with Scripture when it would be easier not to.
On any given day, there are countless opportunities to say not my will, but Yours.
The reality is that genuine sanctification is not built on a few large moments of surrender. It is formed through the continual pattern of small acts of obedience. Those repeated decisions shape the direction of our lives over time. The daily denial of self and the daily choice to follow Christ is where transformation truly takes place.
At the same time, those daily steps do not eliminate the reality of larger moments of surrender. There may be significant decisions in front of you right now. Moments where God is asking you to trust Him in a way that feels weighty or costly. The daily practice of surrender is what prepares your heart for those moments. The small yes builds the strength for the bigger yes.
Gethsemane was a defining moment, but it was not an isolated one.
It was the culmination of a life that was already fully surrendered to the Father.
As we move closer to Easter, this passage reminds us that surrender is not just something we step into once. It is something we live out every day. Not my will, but Yours, again and again.
Prayer
Lord, teach me what it means to surrender to You in both the small and significant moments of life. Help me not overlook the daily opportunities for obedience, and give me the courage to say yes when larger steps of faith are in front of me. In Jesus’ name, amen.
The Price of Betrayal
13 Days Until Easter
Mark 14:3–9
“And while he was at Bethany in the house of Simon the leper, as he was reclining at table, a woman came with an alabaster flask of ointment of pure nard, very costly, and she broke the flask and poured it over his head. There were some who said to themselves indignantly, “Why was the ointment wasted like that? For this ointment could have been sold for more than three hundred denarii and given to the poor.” And they scolded her. But Jesus said, “Leave her alone. Why do you trouble her? She has done a beautiful thing to me. For you always have the poor with you, and whenever you want, you can do good for them. But you will not always have me. She has done what she could; she has anointed my body beforehand for burial. And truly, I say to you, wherever the gospel is proclaimed in the whole world, what she has done will be told in memory of her.””
In Mark 14, we are given a powerful and personal moment in the life of Jesus. He is in Bethany, sitting at the table, when a woman enters with an alabaster flask of very expensive perfume. Without hesitation, she breaks the flask and pours it over Jesus.
What she does is immediate and costly.
The perfume was worth a significant amount, something that could have been saved, used gradually, or even sold for financial gain. Those around her quickly point that out. They criticize her, saying the perfume could have been sold and the money given to the poor. From a practical standpoint, their argument makes sense.
But Jesus responds in a completely different way.
He tells them to leave her alone. He calls what she has done a beautiful thing.
That phrase stands out.
What others saw as wasteful, Jesus saw as worship. What others viewed through the lens of practicality, Jesus viewed through the lens of devotion. The woman was not calculating value the way everyone else in the room was. She was responding out of love, giving something costly in a moment that mattered.
And that is where this begins to hit home.
I think there are a lot of things in our lives that can begin to take a higher place than our worship of Jesus. It can be a social agenda, a business opportunity, or even a personal ambition. None of those things are necessarily bad on their own, but they can slowly become more important than simple devotion to Christ. When that happens, worship becomes something we fit in rather than something we build our lives around.
This moment challenges that.
The woman was not distracted by what others might think or by what else could have been done with what she had. She recognized who Jesus was, and she responded accordingly. Her devotion was not competing with other priorities. It was central.
And Jesus honors that.
As we move closer to Easter, this passage invites us to take an honest look at our own lives. Not just what we say we value, but what actually holds first place. Because in the kingdom of God, a life that prioritizes Jesus above everything else is never wasted.
Prayer
Lord, help me place You at the center of my life. Reveal anything that has taken a higher place than my devotion to You. Give me the courage to respond with wholehearted worship and to value what You value above everything else. In Jesus’ name, amen.
A Beautiful Thing
13 Days Until Easter
Mark 14:3–9
“And while he was at Bethany in the house of Simon the leper, as he was reclining at table, a woman came with an alabaster flask of ointment of pure nard, very costly, and she broke the flask and poured it over his head. There were some who said to themselves indignantly, “Why was the ointment wasted like that? For this ointment could have been sold for more than three hundred denarii and given to the poor.” And they scolded her. But Jesus said, “Leave her alone. Why do you trouble her? She has done a beautiful thing to me. For you always have the poor with you, and whenever you want, you can do good for them. But you will not always have me. She has done what she could; she has anointed my body beforehand for burial. And truly, I say to you, wherever the gospel is proclaimed in the whole world, what she has done will be told in memory of her.””
In Mark 14, we are given a powerful and personal moment in the life of Jesus. He is in Bethany, sitting at the table, when a woman enters with an alabaster flask of very expensive perfume. Without hesitation, she breaks the flask and pours it over Jesus.
What she does is immediate and costly.
The perfume was worth a significant amount, something that could have been saved, used gradually, or even sold for financial gain. Those around her quickly point that out. They criticize her, saying the perfume could have been sold and the money given to the poor. From a practical standpoint, their argument makes sense.
But Jesus responds in a completely different way.
He tells them to leave her alone. He calls what she has done a beautiful thing.
That phrase stands out.
What others saw as wasteful, Jesus saw as worship. What others viewed through the lens of practicality, Jesus viewed through the lens of devotion. The woman was not calculating value the way everyone else in the room was. She was responding out of love, giving something costly in a moment that mattered.
And that is where this begins to hit home.
I think there are a lot of things in our lives that can begin to take a higher place than our worship of Jesus. It can be a social agenda, a business opportunity, or even a personal ambition. None of those things are necessarily bad on their own, but they can slowly become more important than simple devotion to Christ. When that happens, worship becomes something we fit in rather than something we build our lives around.
This moment challenges that.
The woman was not distracted by what others might think or by what else could have been done with what she had. She recognized who Jesus was, and she responded accordingly. Her devotion was not competing with other priorities. It was central.
And Jesus honors that.
As we move closer to Easter, this passage invites us to take an honest look at our own lives. Not just what we say we value, but what actually holds first place. Because in the kingdom of God, a life that prioritizes Jesus above everything else is never wasted.
Prayer
Lord, help me place You at the center of my life. Reveal anything that has taken a higher place than my devotion to You. Give me the courage to respond with wholehearted worship and to value what You value above everything else. In Jesus’ name, amen.
Prayed For
15 Days Until Easter
Luke 22:31–32
““Simon, Simon, behold, Satan demanded to have you, that he might sift you like wheat, but I have prayed for you that your faith may not fail. And when you have turned again, strengthen your brothers.””
In this passage, Jesus speaks directly to Peter in a moment that is both sobering and deeply encouraging. He tells him that Satan has asked to sift him like wheat. It is a picture of pressure, testing, and shaking. Jesus is making it clear that Peter is about to walk through a difficult season, one that will expose weakness and challenge his faith.
But what Jesus says next changes everything.
He tells Peter that He has prayed for him.
Jesus does not say the trial will be removed. He does not say Peter will avoid failure. In fact, He tells him that he will stumble. But He also makes it clear that the story will not end there. He has prayed that Peter’s faith would not fail completely. There is a difference between stumbling and being finished.
And then Jesus points forward.
When you have turned back, strengthen your brothers.
In other words, the very place of testing will become a place of impact.
That is how God often works.
There are many moments in life where our faith is tested and we feel prompted to take a step in a particular direction. I can think of several times where that has happened. One that stands out is when I was sharing a vision with our church that included a significant financial goal. I knew where God was leading, but I was honestly terrified to say it out loud. I had every intention of softening it, maybe even avoiding it altogether.
But in that moment, something shifted.
There was a boldness that came forward, and I stepped out and declared it clearly. What followed was something only God could do. Our church responded in a massive way, and we were able to move forward into what God had put in front of us.
I have seen the same thing happen in other moments. Times where I felt led to have a difficult conversation or stand for something that mattered. There was always some level of hesitation, some level of fear. But in those moments where faith required a step forward, God showed up in ways that made it clear He was in it.
When I look at Scripture, I see the same pattern.
Abraham stepping into a land he had never seen. The disciples casting nets when it did not make sense. David running for his life while still holding onto the promise of God. None of those moments were absolute. If they were, they would not have required faith.
Faith always carries a measure of uncertainty.
And instead of seeing that as something discouraging, it can actually become the very place where faith is tested and strengthened. That small window of doubt is not a sign that God is absent. It is often the space where trust becomes real.
As we move closer to Easter, this passage reminds us that even when we are sifted, even when we feel the pressure of the moment, Jesus is not distant. He is interceding. He is sustaining. And He is not finished with our story.
Prayer
Lord, thank You that You are with me in every season of testing. Thank You that even when my faith feels stretched, You are sustaining me. Give me boldness to step forward in faith and trust that You will meet me in those moments. In Jesus’ name, amen.
A Savior Who Understands
16 Days Until Easter
Hebrews 4:15–16
“For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin. Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.”
One of the most powerful truths in Scripture is not just that Jesus saves us, but that He understands us.
We live in a world that is more digitally connected than ever before, yet in many ways more disconnected than ever. It is easy to look around and assume that we are the only ones going through what we are facing. We can begin to believe that no one truly understands, that we are isolated in our struggles while everyone else seems to have it together. Even though we are surrounded by people, it can still feel like we are alone.
Hebrews speaks directly into that feeling.
We are told that we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses. Jesus is not distant from our experience. He stepped into it. He walked through life in a fallen world. He felt pressure, temptation, exhaustion, sorrow, and pain. He understands what it means to live in the tension we feel.
And yet, He did so without sin.
That is what makes Him both relatable and powerful.
The beauty of the gospel is that God did not try to rescue the world from a distance. He did not remain in heaven and simply send instruction. He sent Himself. The solution came from heaven and stepped into the middle of our reality. Jesus entered into the human experience so that He could meet us in ours.
That changes the way we approach God.
Because of who Jesus is, we are told to draw near with confidence to the throne of grace. Not cautiously. Not hesitantly. Confidently. We are not coming to someone who is unaware of what we are facing. We are coming to a Savior who fully understands and invites us in.
And when we come, we receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.
That means in the exact moment you need it, grace is available. Not theoretical grace. Not distant grace. Present help. Strength when you feel weak. Clarity when you feel unsure. Peace when life feels overwhelming.
As we move closer to Easter, this passage reminds us that the cross was not just about forgiveness. It was about access. Because Jesus stepped into our world and overcame what we could not, we now have direct access to God.
You are not alone.
You are understood.
And you are invited to come near.
Prayer
Lord, thank You that You understand my struggles and my weaknesses. Thank You that You stepped into this world so that I would never have to face life alone. Help me come to You with confidence and trust that Your grace is present in every moment of need. In Jesus’ name, amen.
Peace That Remains
17 Days Until Easter
John 14:27
“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid.”
In John 14, Jesus is speaking to His disciples in a moment of deep uncertainty. He is preparing them for what is coming. The cross is near. Everything they have built their lives around is about to be shaken. And in the middle of that moment, Jesus gives them a promise. He says that He is leaving them with peace, and not just any peace, but His peace.
That distinction matters.
The world offers a kind of peace that is dependent on circumstances. It shows up when things are going well, when plans are working out, when there is clarity and stability. But that kind of peace is fragile. The moment circumstances shift, it disappears.
Jesus offers something different.
His peace is not tied to what is happening around us. It is rooted in who He is. That means it can remain even when life feels uncertain or unsettled, even when we are walking through seasons we do not fully understand.
The reality is that throughout life, we are going to experience those kinds of seasons. Living in a fallen world means there will be moments where things feel unclear, where challenges arise, and where we do not have all the answers. But when I look back on the consistency of Scripture, both in the Old and New Testament, I am reminded of something that goes beyond those unsettled moments.
I am reminded of the track record of Jesus.
He has never missed the mark. Not once. Every promise, every word, every action reveals His faithfulness and His authority. When challenges come, when uncertainty begins to rise, looking back on who Jesus is and what He has done brings everything back into focus. The Word Himself has proven over and over again that He is trustworthy.
And if He is trustworthy, then even in the moments that feel unstable, He is still in control.
That is where peace begins to take root.
Not because everything around us has settled, but because we are anchored in something that has never failed. Jesus does not promise a life without difficulty. He promises a peace that remains in the middle of it.
As we move closer to Easter, this becomes even more significant. The disciples were about to walk through one of the most confusing and painful moments of their lives. But the peace Jesus gave them was not taken away. Even in the darkest moment, His presence remained.
And that same peace is available today.
Prayer
Lord, thank You for the peace that only You can give. When life feels uncertain, help me remember who You are and what You have done. Anchor my heart in Your faithfulness and teach me to trust You in every season. In Jesus’ name, amen.
The Mind of Christ
18 Days Until Easter
Philippians 2:5–8
“Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.”
In this passage Paul invites believers to adopt a completely different way of thinking about life and leadership. He says that we should have the same mindset that was found in Christ Jesus. The Christian life is not only about outward behavior. It begins with the transformation of the mind and heart.
Paul then describes the posture of Jesus.
Although Christ existed in the form of God, He did not treat His equality with God as something to be grasped or exploited. Instead He willingly humbled Himself. He took on the form of a servant and entered into human life. The Creator stepped into His own creation.
This is one of the most remarkable truths in all of Scripture.
Jesus did not simply appear human. He fully stepped into the limitations of humanity. He experienced hunger, exhaustion, sorrow, and rejection. The One who possessed all authority chose the path of humility.
I think the reality is that the higher someone climbs in leadership and influence, the easier it becomes to double down on the idea that they are skilled and qualified. The more responsibility a person carries, the more natural it can feel to lean into personal ability and reputation. Yet Jesus gives the ultimate example that even though He was the living embodiment of perfection, He still chose the path of humility.
And that humility did not stop with His incarnation.
Paul explains that Jesus humbled Himself even further by becoming obedient to the point of death. Not just any death, but death on a cross. In the ancient world the cross was the most humiliating form of execution imaginable. It was designed not only to end a life but to publicly shame the person being crucified.
Yet Jesus willingly walked that path.
This passage reminds us that the story of Easter is not only about the victory of the resurrection. It is also about the humility that led Jesus to the cross in the first place. The Son of God willingly lowered Himself so that humanity could be lifted up.
Paul begins this passage by telling believers to have the same mindset as Christ. That means the Christian life is shaped by humility, service, and obedience to God. The path of Jesus was not one of self-exaltation but one of surrender.
And through that surrender came redemption.
Prayer
Lord, thank You for the humility of Jesus. Thank You that He willingly stepped into our world and humbled Himself for our sake. Help me grow in the same mindset of humility, service, and obedience in my own life. In Jesus’ name, amen.
Saint Patrick
19 Days Until Easter
Matthew 5:44 ESV
“But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.”
St. Patrick’s Day is widely associated with green clothing, parades, and Irish celebration, but the real story behind the day is far more meaningful.
Patrick was not originally Irish. He was born in Britain in the late fourth century. As a teenager, he was kidnapped by Irish raiders and taken to Ireland as a slave. For six years he worked as a shepherd, isolated and far from home. During that time something unexpected happened. Patrick began to pray constantly. What had once been a casual faith from childhood became a deeply personal dependence on God.
Eventually Patrick escaped slavery and returned home to Britain. Most people would assume that chapter of his life was finished. But years later Patrick sensed God calling him back to Ireland. Instead of returning with anger or bitterness, he returned with the message of Jesus.
Patrick spent the rest of his life traveling throughout Ireland teaching people about Christ, planting churches, and helping establish Christian communities. The most remarkable part of his story is not simply that he preached the gospel. It is that he returned to the very place where he had once been enslaved in order to bring the hope of Christ to the people who had once held him captive.
Patrick’s life reflects something at the very center of the gospel. The grace of Jesus changes the way we respond to people. Patrick did not go back to Ireland seeking revenge. He returned to serve and to share the message of Christ.
That kind of response only happens when someone truly understands the mercy they have received from God. When we recognize the grace Christ has shown us, it begins to reshape the way we see others, even those who have hurt us.
Patrick’s story reminds us that the gospel is powerful enough to turn bitterness into mission and pain into purpose.
Prayer
Lord, thank You for the example of faithful believers who carried the gospel into difficult places. Help me live with the same heart of grace and courage. Teach me to respond to others the way You have responded to me with mercy, truth, and love. Amen.
The Servant King
20 Days Until Easter
Mark 10:45
“For even the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.”
In this verse, Jesus gives one of the clearest summaries of His mission. He says that the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give His life as a ransom for many.
That statement is remarkable when you consider who Jesus is. The Son of God, the one through whom all things were created, entered the world not to demand recognition or to gather followers who would serve His every need. Instead, He came with the posture of a servant.
This completely reverses the way people normally think about power and leadership.
In most areas of life, authority is associated with status. The higher someone rises, the more people are expected to serve them. Influence often comes with privilege, recognition, and the expectation that others will meet the needs of the person in charge.
But Jesus presents an entirely different model.
The King of kings steps into the world and begins washing feet, feeding the hungry, healing the sick, and caring for people who had been overlooked. His authority was not expressed through control, but through service. The ultimate expression of that service would come at the cross, where He gave His life as a ransom.
The word ransom carries the idea of a price being paid to set someone free. Humanity was trapped in the consequences of sin, unable to rescue itself. Jesus willingly stepped into that place and paid the cost that we could not pay. His life became the payment that opened the door for redemption.
This is why the message of Easter is so powerful.
The cross was not simply an act of sacrifice. It was an act of rescue. The Servant King laid down His life so that others could experience freedom and life with God.
And the example Jesus sets also shapes how His followers live. If the King Himself came to serve, then the life of a believer is not centered on being served by others. It is centered on reflecting the heart of Christ through humility and service.
As we continue moving toward Easter, this verse reminds us that the path of Jesus is not built on status or recognition. It is built on love that serves others and gives itself for the sake of redemption.
Prayer
Lord, thank You for sending Jesus to serve and to give His life for us. Help me follow His example by living with humility and a heart that looks for ways to serve others. Shape my life so that it reflects the love and sacrifice of Christ. In Jesus’ name, amen.
The Bread of Life
21 Days Until Easter
John 6:35
“Jesus said to them, “I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me shall not hunger, and whoever believes in me shall never thirst.”
In John 6, Jesus makes a statement that reveals something essential about who He is and what He offers. He says that He is the bread of life. Whoever comes to Him will not hunger, and whoever believes in Him will never thirst.
To understand the weight of that statement, it helps to remember how central bread was in the ancient world. Bread was not just a side item on the table. For many people it was the primary source of daily nourishment. When Jesus calls Himself the bread of life, He is saying that the deepest need of the human soul is ultimately satisfied in Him.
Every person carries a kind of hunger inside.
People spend their lives trying to satisfy that hunger with different things. Sometimes it is success. Sometimes it is possessions. Sometimes it is relationships, experiences, or achievements. We often convince ourselves that the next thing will finally bring the satisfaction we have been looking for.
I can think back through my own life and see how this has played out. There were different moments when I thought something was going to be the answer to what I really wanted. I remember as a kid believing that having a bicycle with gears would absolutely change my life. Later it became the idea that having a car would change everything. Then it was the next goal, the next opportunity, the next milestone. Each time it felt like the thing I was chasing would finally bring the satisfaction I was looking for.
But over time something became clear.
The things of this world will never truly satisfy the soul.
They can be good gifts. They can bring enjoyment for a season. But they were never designed to carry the weight of our deepest needs. Eventually the excitement fades and the hunger returns.
Jesus steps directly into that reality and offers something different. He does not simply offer another temporary solution. He offers Himself. The life He gives reaches deeper than anything this world can provide. When someone comes to Christ, they are not just receiving a new set of beliefs. They are finding the source of life itself.
As we move closer to Easter, this passage reminds us that the cross and the resurrection reveal God’s ultimate provision for humanity. The deepest hunger of the human soul is not satisfied by what we accumulate or accomplish. It is satisfied in a relationship with the One who is the bread of life.
Prayer
Lord, thank You for being the bread of life. Help me recognize the difference between the temporary things of this world and the lasting life that is found in You. Teach me to come to You daily for the nourishment my soul truly needs. In Jesus’ name, amen.
The Shepherd Who Leads
22 Days Until Easter
Psalm 23:1–3
“1 The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
2 He makes me lie down in green pastures.
He leads me beside still waters.”
Psalm 23 is one of the most familiar passages in all of Scripture, yet its depth can easily be overlooked because of how often we hear it. David begins with a simple but powerful statement. The Lord is my shepherd. In those few words, David is describing the nature of his relationship with God.
A shepherd is responsible for the care, protection, and guidance of the flock. Sheep are not known for their ability to navigate life on their own. They depend entirely on the shepherd to lead them, to provide for them, and to bring them to places where they can rest and be sustained. When David says the Lord is his shepherd, he is acknowledging that his life is not self-directed. His well-being depends on the guidance and care of God.
One of the things I have noticed about this picture of the shepherd is that the shepherd often shows up most clearly when the sheep are in need. There have been different seasons in my life that were difficult to walk through, seasons where the path ahead was not clear and the weight of the moment felt heavy. And yet when I look back on those days, I realize I walked through them in a way I never could have imagined on my own. I have talked with many other people who describe the exact same experience. They say that when they look back at the hardest moments, they recognize that God gave them the grace they needed for those specific days.
That is often how the shepherd works.
He does not always remove the valley before we walk through it, but He meets us in the valley with the grace we need for that moment. The strength comes when it is needed. The peace comes when the situation feels overwhelming. The guidance appears when the path seems uncertain.
David goes on to describe the shepherd leading his sheep to green pastures and still waters. These images speak of provision and rest. A good shepherd knows exactly where the flock needs to go. He leads them to places where they can be nourished, refreshed, and restored. And David says that the Lord restores his soul.
Life has a way of draining us. There are seasons that leave us tired, discouraged, or uncertain. But the shepherd does not simply push the flock forward. He restores them. He renews their strength so they can keep moving.
As we move closer to Easter, Psalm 23 reminds us that we are not navigating life alone. The same God who leads is the God who provides and restores. The shepherd walks with His sheep through every season, and when the moment of need arrives, His grace is already there.
Prayer
Lord, thank You for being the shepherd who leads and cares for me. Thank You for meeting me with the grace I need in every season. Help me trust Your guidance and rest in Your provision as You lead me each day. In Jesus’ name, amen.
Abide in Me
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.
He Carried Our Sorrows
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.