Through The Bible in a Year - September 14, 2026

“Therefore be imitators of God as beloved children. And walk in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us… for at one time you were darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Walk as children of light, for the fruit of light is found in all that is good and right and true.” - Ephesians 5:1-2, 8-9

Christian philosopher, Francis Schaeffer, made an observation that became one of the most quoted statements in modern Christian thought: “We need not only an orthodoxy of doctrine—what we believe—we need an orthodoxy of community—rightness in the way that we treat one another.”

He had fought for decades for the truth of Scripture. And he was right to fight. The Bible is true. The resurrection is real. Biblical doctrine matters.

But Schaeffer came to see that doctrine without love produces a church that is, in his words, “a dead, ugly orthodoxy—sub-Christian.” Truth that does not produce beauty in human relationships is not functioning the way Christ intended.

“True Christianity produces beauty as well as truth, especially in the specific areas of human relationships. If we do not show beauty in the way that we treat each other, then in the eyes of the world—and in the eyes of our children—we are denying the truth we proclaim.”

The fruit that Scripture’s light produces, the Apostle Paul says, is found in all that is good and right and true. Not just in correct belief—in actual goodness in how we treat one another. Actual rightness in how we respond to hurt or disdain. Actual truth in the way that we seek and secure relationships.

The question that nearly broke Schaeffer’s faith was: “If Christ is really indwelling His people, where is the evidence?” Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, self-control—the fruit of the Spirit. Where is it?

That same question is being asked by a watching world right now. Not “do Christians believe the right things?” but “does it make them different? Does it make them better to be around? Does Christ seem real in the way they treat people?”

If the church holds up its doctrine and then speaks spitefully of others, the world wins and Christ’s witness loses. If the church holds up its love and sets aside its doctrine, Christ’s truth loses. Only when both are held together does the witness of Jesus advance his kingdom’s purposes.

Respond: Where is your church or Christian community showing the fruit of light—goodness, rightness, truth in relationships? And where is the orthodoxy of doctrine present but the orthodoxy of community absent?

This is not primarily a question about others in your church or community. It’s a question about you. Where in your own relationships—with your spouse, your children, your coworkers, your church family—is the fruit of light visible? And where is it absent?

Ask God to produce through you what Francis Schaeffer said is the revolutionary witness of the gospel of Jesus: not just right belief but “biblical love for the unlovely.”

Prayer: Lord Jesus, I want to hold doctrine and love together—not one without the other. Where I’ve been orthodox in belief but ugly in community, forgive me. Where I’ve been kind but untethered from truth, correct me. Produce in me the fruit of light—all that is good and right and true—so that my life becomes evidence that You are real and living and present. In Your name, Amen.

Through The Bible in a Year - September 11, 2026

“Therefore be imitators of God as beloved children. And walk in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.” - Ephesians 5:1-2

“Be imitators of God.”

Four simple words. Piece of cake. Easy as pie.

Or so it seems, until you actually do some honest soul searching about what it would mean to be an imitator of God. That would mean—no bitterness, no unmetered wrath, no slander, tenderhearted forgiveness toward everyone, sexual purity, no coveting, no crude speech, contentment in all things. Such honest consideration would reveal something immediately: this simple command requires more heart than you’ve got.

Paul is not naive. He knows what he’s asking. He’s writing to a church full of Greek philosophers and Jewish practitioners who are all, in different ways, trying to establish their standing before God through what they know or what they do. And he says: none of that is enough. You must imitate, that is, perfectly reflect God Himself.

But then—before this demand crushes our hearts under its holy weight—he adds three words that change everything: “as beloved children.”

Not “as people who are trying hard.” Not “as people who must earn their standing before God.” Rather, serve your Heavenly Father “as beloved children.” It is so important that we note this identity granted comes before the imitation commanded. Love comes before obedience.

In a social-media-saturated culture, a pressured mom once confessed what others’ perfect-family posts and the constant barrage of advice articles had done to her. They shamed her so much that she struggled to get out of bed each morning.

The antidote was not “try harder.” It was the message of Scripture from an understanding friend: “You are the beloved child of God. Nobody can make you insignificant or ashamed without your own cooperation. You stop cooperating with the shamers when you claim your identity in Christ.”

Before your first failure or your last failure, you were God’s dearly beloved—loved as much as He loves Jesus. That is not a reward for imitation. It is the ground from which imitation grows as it is watered and strengthened by the truth of God’s unconditional grace.

Respond: Are you approaching the Christian life as a qualification for God’s love—trying to earn your standing by what you know or what you do? Or are you approaching it as the response of a beloved child—loved already, responding to love rather than performing for approval?

This week, try saying out loud before you begin each day: “I am a beloved child of God. Jesus makes that true regardless of my successes or failures. What I do today is my response to the love he has already secured—not my attempt to earn it.”

Prayer: Father, I confess that I’m tempted to approach You as someone trying to qualify, not as someone already beloved. I instinctively perform to gain the approval You’ve already given. Let your promised provision of grace sink deep—I am Your dearly loved child. Loved as much as You love Jesus. Before my first failure. After my last one. Let that truth change how I live today—not striving to earn your love, but responding to it. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Through The Bible in a Year - September 10, 2026

“Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, along with all malice. Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you.” - Ephesians 4:31-32

Francis Schaeffer was one of the greatest Christian philosophers of the 20th century—but he nearly walked away from the faith entirely. Not because of intellectual doubts. Because of what he saw in the church.

Time and again, he witnessed church leaders, who defended the truth of Scripture and said they represented Jesus’s priorities, speak as spitefully as anyone in the world about their political enemies, their church enemies, their family enemies. These leaders claimed the indwelling presence of Christ while demonstrating almost none of His fruit. Schaeffer more and more felt that he belonged to a church that spoke of Jesus but sounded like the world.

So, the philosopher and pastor asked an honest question: “How is the church any different from the world? And if it is no different, is the living presence of Christ real at all?”

Paul’s words in Ephesians 4 address the realities of these issues. The apostle makes clear what makes the church’s witness of Jesus to philosophers and ordinary people wither? Bitterness. Wrath. Anger. Slander. Malice. Not out-and-out evil—just the ordinary habits of a competitive, comparison-driven community that builds itself up by tearing others down.

The kinds of bitterness and division that Paul was addressing in Ephesus still exist today. In the apostle’s time, Greek believers who celebrated the intellect, compared themselves to others in the church and said, “I know more than you.” Jewish believers who celebrated rigorous religious practices, responded with the retort, “I do more than you.” Each camp was establishing its standing before God by comparing itself favorably to the other.

We can recognize the attitudes immediately because we still carry them and express them. Snarky comments. Mean-spirited texts. Sarcasm about other camps. Unwillingness to forgive grievances of the past. Not allowing people to grow or change. Gathering with like-minded people and throwing collective ridicule at those who differ.

The witness of the church withers still with such comments and behaviors. These are not dramatic failures of morality or doctrine, but are the infections of pride and party spirit that cause the competition and comparison that blooms into bitterness and withers witness.

Respond: Where is bitterness, comparison, or quiet contempt leaking into your relationships—in your church, your family, your community?

Schaeffer’s faith crisis began not with doubts about God’s truth but with what he observed in God’s people. However, his renewal of faith began when he looked inside himself rather than at the misbehaviors of others. When he recognized his own need for Jesus’ heart to keep from being bitter over others’ meanness and pride, then he knew again how much he needed a Savior – and how Jesus brought real peace to hearts like his own.

Where have the attitudes of the world crept into your witness without your noticing? This week, audit one relationship where comparison or resentment has been quietly at work. Name it honestly before God. And ask for what Paul promises is available—tenderhearted forgiveness, not manufactured but received from the One who first forgave you.

Prayer: Father, I confess that bitterness and comparison have been leaking into my witness without my fully noticing. I’ve built myself up by diminishing others, justifying my bitterness by their failures. I’ve withheld a heart of mercy that You’ve freely extended to me. Forgive me. Let all bitterness be put away from me—not by my effort alone but by the power of the One who forgave me first. Let the words of my mouth and the expressions of my heart sound like Christ, not like the world. I pray in Jesus’ name, Amen.

Through The Bible in a Year - September 9, 2026

“Remembering you in my prayers… that you may know … …what is the immeasurable greatness of his power toward us who believe, according to the working of his great might that he worked in Christ when he raised him from the dead… and he put all things under his feet and gave him as head over all things to the church, which is his body, the fullness of him who fills all in all.” -Ephesians 1:19-23

Paul wants the Ephesians to see the power available to them—and to understand its scale. So, he points to the most important display of divine power in all of history: the resurrection.

Not just another nature miracle. Not just the healing or feeding thousands. Paul points to the power that reached into death itself, broke it open, and brought Jesus out the other side—that is the power at work in and for everyone who believes.

Paul explains the magnitude of that miracle saying: that same Jesus “raised from the dead” has been placed “far above all rule and authority and power and dominion, and above every name that is named, not only in this age but in the age to come.” Every threatening thing you can name—every disease, every political power, every fear, every force that feels bigger than you—is under the feet of the risen Jesus.

And this Jesus, who is the ultimate ruler over all earthly domains, gives Himself “as head over all things to the church which is His body, the fullness of Him who fills all in all.” The same Jesus who rules is the Jesus who cares and his glory will ultimately fill all things in all places.

Like monarch butterflies gathering by the millions in Mexico—each one a tiny thing with wings making nearly no sound alone but gathered together, creating the sound of a pounding surf, filling every sense—that’s how Jesus is building his Church. Our Lord is working across time and space until the influence of the Church, Christ’s body, fills the world. Through faithful believers in corporate worship and work, the influence of faith is spreading over continents and communities until all are filled with the glory of Jesus.

Respond: What feels bigger than God’s power in your life right now? What rule, authority, power, or dominion—in your circumstances, your body, your relationships, your nation, your church—seems too large to be under Jesus’ feet?

Paul prays that the eyes of your heart would open to see the immeasurable greatness of God’s power that is greater than all else. Not your power. Not the church’s power. His.

What is troubling you? What feels too big for God to handle? What have you lost confidence can be worked for good. Name it and then place it, by faith, under the feet of the risen Jesus. In prayer affirm, “Lord, this problem is real, but Jesus is risen. I believe that He is seated in authority above every name that is named, including the name of this thing. Since His power is immeasurably great, give me an extra measure of faith to trust you and be faithful to you in the face of this problem.”

Prayer: Heavenly Father, You raised Jesus from the dead and seated Him at your right hand, far above every rule and authority and power and dominion—above every thing I could name that I’m afraid of right now. The same power that raised Jesus from the dead is at work in me and for me. Open the eyes of my heart to see that power—not theoretically, but really. Let me live today from the reality of Jesus’ resurrection. Whatever is threatening to overwhelm me, remind me that You are greater. You will ultimately fill all in all with Christ’s glory. Please fill my heart with the peace of confidence in that promise. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Through The Bible in a Year - September 8, 2026

“Remembering you in my prayers… that you may know … what are the riches of his glorious inheritance in the saints…” - Ephesians 1:18

We often think of heaven as our inheritance—the treasure God has stored up for us. And there is truth in that. But Paul prays here for something more surprising: that we would see and know “the riches of his [God’s] glorious inheritance in the saints.

His inheritance is us.

We are what God is bequeathing to Jesus. We are His treasured possession. God says over and over again that His people are His treasure in the Old Testament, then He repeats that truth in the New Testament with an undeniable proof. What is the proof that we are God’s treasured possession? We were purchased with the blood of Jesus Christ, and all of history—all of creation from the very beginning—has been moving forward in a plan of redemption so that God’s people would be the glory of Christ’s kingdom.

You are precious to God. Not because of what you’ve done. Not because of your performance or your consistency or your faithfulness. Because you were purchased at an infinite price. Because God chose to love you. Because you are what He plans to give to His Son.

When our children were small, every night, my wife, Kathy, would put them to bed with the same words: “You are precious to me.”

That’s what God is saying to His people here. You are so precious to Me that you are the inheritance I will give to Jesus when He comes into His kingdom.

Every day, the inheritance that God will bequeath to Jesus in His eternal kingdom is growing. People precious to Him, purchased by His Son, are being prepared in ever greater numbers to be gathered into glory. Christ’s kingdom is growing because His inheritance is getting richer with every new person of faith.

Respond: Do you live like you’re precious to God? Do your days have the quality of someone who knows they are treasured?

Most of us don’t. We live with a low-grade sense of worthlessness, or we frantically try to earn value through achievement. Paul prays that our heart-eyes would open to see the truth: we are God’s glorious inheritance. We don’t earn that. We receive it, and one day Christ will receive us as His inheritance from the Father.

This week, when the voice of shame or unworthiness speaks—when you feel invisible, insignificant, or like a burden—counter it with this truth: “I am God’s glorious inheritance. I was purchased by the blood of Jesus. I am precious to Him.”

Prayer: Father, I struggle to believe I’m precious to You. Instinctively I think that I earn my value. When that makes me feel worthless—it’s hard simply to receive Your love. Open the eyes of my heart to see what Paul prays I’d see: that I am Your glorious inheritance, purchased by Christ’s blood, treasured by You. My worth to you is not determined by what I’ve done but by the price you paid for me through Your Son. Let that truth go from my head to my heart. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Through The Bible in a Year - September 7, 2026

“Remembering you in my prayers… that you may know what is the hope to which he has called you…” - Ephesians 1:18

Biblical hope is not wishful thinking. It’s not baseless optimism. It’s not a courteous, “I hope things turn out okay.”

Biblical hope is faith in the future tense. Trust is faith in the present tense. Present faith says, “I trust that God is at work right now.” Hope is faith in the future tense. Biblical hope says, “I am confident that God will do as he has promised and what God is doing will reach a good end.” Hope is expressed with the assurance that the God who has been faithful in the past and is active in the present will complete His purposes in the future.

This kind of hope doesn’t depend on circumstances cooperating with our immediate desires or expectations. It doesn’t require the news to be good or the situation to be improving. It rests on the character and the power of the God who does not lie and cannot fail.

Paul prays that the Ephesians’ heart-eyes would be opened to see this hope—the hope to which God has called them. Not a hope they manufactured, but a hope into which they were called.

A nurse working in a respiratory unit during a health crisis was asked why she would put herself at risk. Her answer: “I want to be there when patients wake up to give them hope.”

She understood what Paul was praying for. Hope is power. It’s life-giving. When people wake up in the middle of crisis—frightened, disoriented, sick—and someone is there who can look them in the eye and say, “There is more than this. There is hope beyond this moment.” That truth changes everything.

Our hope is not in circumstances we can easily explain or in outcomes we can predict. Biblical hope is not in human health or seasonal comfort or earthly reward. Biblical hope is in the God who sent His Son, raised Him from the dead, and seated Him above every name so that God’s eternal purposes would be fulfilled and would bless us beyond our plans, predictions, or understanding.

Respond: Where has your hope been anchored? Is it in your health, your finances, your relationships, your ability to control your situation? What happens to your peace when those things shake?

Biblical hope is anchored outside of circumstances—in the character of God and the finished work of Jesus that secures our eternity. Nothing that shakes your circumstances can shake the resurrection. Nothing surprises God, undoes his plans for you, or threatens your eternal security.

Today, name dimensions of your hope out loud. Affirm for your own heart your future faith, saying, “My hope is not in earthly outcomes or temporary rewards. My hope is in the God who raised Jesus from the dead. Through Him I have confidence in God’s eternal provision and purposes that cannot be shaken.” Let hope become the foundation of your actions and attitudes regardless of your circumstances.

Prayer: Lord, I confess that my hope has been too often anchored in things that can be taken away. When they shake, I shake with them. Open the eyes of my heart to the hope to which You’ve called me—a hope that is anchored in who You are, what You’ve done, and what you promise. Help me not to put my hope in what I can see or control. Whatever is frightening me right now, remind me You are still on the throne. Jesus still wears the crown. The Spirit still empowers all you intend to accomplish for my eternal blessing. That is my hope. Open the eyes of my heart to see it today. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Through The Bible in a Year - September 4, 2026

“Remembering you in my prayers… That the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, may give you the Spirit of wisdom and of revelation in the knowledge of him, having the eyes of your hearts enlightened, that you may know what is the hope to which he has called you…” - Ephesians 1:17-18

Paul doesn’t pray for better circumstances. He doesn’t pray for persecution to stop, for the Ephesians’ house churches to become larger and safer, or for the political climate to improve.

He prays for something that would make all those things endurable. He prays that God would open the eyes of the Ephesians’ hearts.

Not the eyes in their heads or of their minds. The eyes of their hearts.

Intuitively we understand why: you can understand something intellectually—know the facts, recite the theology, answer the quiz correctly—and still not see its significance for your life or soul. Your heart can be completely blind to what your mind already knows.

Paul prays that the Spirit of wisdom and revelation would give the Ephesians genuine knowledge of God—heart knowledge, not just head knowledge. The kind of knowing that changes how you feel when you wake up in the morning, how you respond to crises, whom you love and why. The kind of seeing that makes hope feel real rather than theoretical.

When the Covid pandemic was forcing people to shelter-in-place—God was using the stress to strip away what people had been depending on. Affluence. Entertainment. Achievement. Distraction. When the lives of all were threatened, priorities became more clear. In that stripping away, people began looking for something that was not dependent on material gain or personal enjoyment. At the height of the Covid crisis, the same number of people reached out to evangelism ministries online as applied for unemployment benefits. Scales were falling from eyes. Hearts were opening to see what they’d been missing.

John Calvin, ministering through plague and war and religious persecution, prayed: “Lord, how can we survive, except our rescue consists in seeing God our Father? The love of God that is eternal is what tranquilizes the heart against the pain of this moment.”

Relief was not in better news. Not easier circumstances. Just clearer sight of who God is.

Respond: What has been covering the eyes of your heart lately? What has been giving your heart its meaning, its security, its hope—that isn’t about God’s care of you?

Paul prays specifically for three things to be seen: hope beyond personal abilities, the security of our heavenly inheritance, and spiritual power. Today, ask God to open the eyes of your heart to those blessings. Say to the Lord in prayer, “I want to see You clearly. Open my eyes to the hope I have in You, to my eternal inheritance that indicates how precious I am to You, and to the power You’re working in and around me.”

Prayer: Father of glory, I ask what Paul asked: open the eyes of my heart. I know things about You with my head that my heart hasn’t fully grasped. The hope I have in Jesus—let me treasure it, not just know it. The inheritance that is mine—let it claim my heart not just be claimed as a truth in my head. The power You’re working in my life—let me trust it, not just acknowledge it. Strip away what’s covering my heart’s sight. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Through The Bible in a Year - September 3, 2026

“For this reason, because I have heard of your faith in the Lord Jesus and your love toward all the saints, I do not cease to give thanks for you, remembering you in my prayers.” - Ephesians 1:15-16

Paul was far from Ephesus when he wrote these words. The people he loved—the believers he had watched turn from idols to serve the living God, now gathered in scattered house churches across that great commercial city but were far away. He couldn’t see them. He couldn’t be with them. And yet he says: “I do not cease to give thanks for you.”

Not “I used to give thanks.” Not “I gave thanks when I was with you.” But, “I do not cease.” Present tense. Ongoing. Uninterrupted.

Distance didn’t stop his love. Separation didn’t interrupt his prayer. He was far away, and he was still praying—specific, grateful, personal prayer—for people he couldn’t reach.

And what was he thankful for? Two things: their faith in Jesus, and their love for one another. That these formerly divided people—once separated by ethnicity, commerce, and competing gods—had come together in faith and loved each other. That the gospel had proven itself real in their community.

I remember during the Covid pandemic, when we could not meet in our church building, looking into a blank TV camera on Easter Sunday. I so keenly felt the absence of my congregation, that suddenly—without planning it—I said to those watching from distant screens: “I love you and miss you.” Then, I had to keep moving quickly to my planned comments because the depth of emotion was overwhelming me.

That’s at least some degree of what Paul is feeling as he writes to the distant Ephesians: “I love you. I’m far away, but I haven’t stopped praying for you.”

I remember admiring a pastor with a bad back who lay on the floor of his home unable to sit or lie comfortably, unable to read or watch TV. So, he asked his wife to bring him the church directory. And he spent his recovery praying through name after name. When he finally healed, he prayed: “Lord, these times of prayer have become very sweet. It’s too bad I don’t have time for this now.” Then, he said that he sensed the Lord’s quiet reply: “Silly man, you have the same time to pray as when you were well. But when you were well, you thought the church ran on your power. When you were sick, you knew it ran on Mine.”

Respond: Who are you separated from right now—physically, relationally, emotionally—for whom you could be giving thanks and praying?

Not just generically. Specifically. Thanking God for their faith and love, and praying for their needs.

Why not pray for them today – and tomorrow. Like Paul, let distance become an occasion for deeper intercession rather than disconnection.

Prayer: Father, thank You for the people You’ve placed in my life—the ones whose faith and love show me that the gospel is real. Help me not to cease giving thanks for them. Where I’m separated from them, let that distance deepen my prayer rather than diminish it. Open my eyes to see what You’re doing in and through them. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Through The Bible in a Year - September 2, 2026

“The Holy Spirit said, ‘Set apart for me Barnabas and Saul for the work to which I have called them.’… So, being sent out by the Holy Spirit, they went.” - Acts 13:2, 4

The Spirit is not dormant. He is not distant. He is not waiting for conditions to improve before He starts moving.

Today, there are more people worshipping Jesus in China than in the United States. More than 500 million people in Africa now identify as Christians—at the beginning of the last century, Christians were almost too few to count. More Muslims have come to Christ in the last 15 years than in the previous 14 centuries. In recent years, the fastest growing church in the world has been in Iran—underground, persecuted, pursued—but still growing like wildfire.

The Spirit that blew upon the apostles at Pentecost is still blowing. The question is not whether He is at work. The question is whether we are lifting our sails to catch the wind of what He is already doing.

I remember receiving an email from Christian leaders in China at the height of the Covid epidemic. Tens of thousands were sick. Church meetings suspended. Christian leaders were denied freedom to proclaim the gospel. Because of the restrictions, I could not lead the conference to which I had been invited in Hong Kong. Church leaders simply asked that I write them words of encouragement.

I felt unworthy to encourage those who have endured hardships I have never faced. So, I wrote what others have said to encourage the faithful in other generations: “The eyes of King Jesus are upon you. The Holy Spirit intercedes for you with groanings too deep to utter, advancing the purposes of God in your lives so that all things will work together for good. These temporary afflictions are working for you a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory.”

After the epidemic had waned, I was again asked to speak at the conference. Leaders did not know if the 250-thousand Chinese who usually attended the annual conference in-person or by internet would come after the devastations of Covid. They prayed that God would work beyond their limitations. After their prayers, the conference occurred but 250-thousand did not attend – 1.1 million did! The Spirit was blowing in China, as He was blowing in Acts 13. God is still working in your city, your church, your community, your family—right now. Not by might. Not by power. But by His Spirit.

Respond: How are you lifting your sails to the blowing wind of the Holy Spirit in your church, community, and circumstances?

At least three identifiable actions of Christians in Acts 13 were used by the Spirit to bless and blow the mission of God forward: unity with humility (welcoming those of different backgrounds and personal histories for the sake of the gospel), devotion through worship and prayer (confessing need for the Spirit’s power rather than depending on their own), and proclamation with courage (speaking truth where it could really cost).

Consider how you may be being called to take one of these actions also. Who can you welcome? Where do you need to worship more than strategize? What needs to be said that you’ve been afraid to say?

Lift your sails. Believe the Spirit is blowing. Go where He sends you.

Prayer: Heavenly Father, I believe You are at work—in China, in Africa, in Iran, in the immigrant churches in this country, on college campuses, in my community, and in my family. I don’t want to miss what You’re doing because I’m too comfortable, too afraid, or too cynical to lift my sails. Give me the humility of the church at Antioch—willing to be unified across every human division. Give me the devotion of those first missionaries—worshipping before strategizing, fasting before planning. Give me the courage of Paul—willing to speak truth where it costs. Blow, Spirit, blow. I lift my sails to You. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Through The Bible in a Year - September 1, 2026

“But Saul, who was also called Paul, filled with the Holy Spirit, looked intently at him (Elymas the Magician) and said, ‘You son of the devil, you enemy of all righteousness, full of all deceit and villainy, will you not stop making crooked the straight paths of the Lord? And now, behold, the hand of the Lord is upon you, and you will be blind and unable to see the sun for a time.’” - Acts 13:9-11

Elymas the magician had positioned himself between the gospel and the proconsul (governor) of Cyprus—one of the most powerful men in the region. For the sake of his own influence, the magician was trying to keep the straight paths of the Lord crooked, to prevent someone with real influence from hearing the truth.

So, Paul, filled with the Holy Spirit, said what needed to be said. Directly. Boldly. Without softening it to make it more palatable.

“You son of the devil.”

This is not a template for every gospel conversation. But it is a model of Spirit-filled courage that refuses to be intimidated by power or position—that goes right into the jaws of opposition and speaks the truth anyway. With Paul’s rebuke, the Holy Spirit struck the magician blind.

The result? “The proconsul believed, when he saw what had occurred, for he was astonished at the teaching of the Lord.”

There is evil in our culture that also requires courageous opposition. Many declare gender is fluid, same-sex relationships are to be celebrated, marriage is optional for sexual intimacy, divorce is inevitable, pornography is acceptable, political hatred is praised, homeless and refugees are despised and neglected. To speak into such evil—there’s danger there. There’s difficulty there. Even in the church, there’s danger there.

So, Paul’s example is meant to remind us that those who depend upon the Spirit and trust His power are not to be silent in the face of sin.

The courage to speak truth in a culture that prefers comfortable silence doesn’t come from confidence in your argument. It comes from being filled confidence in the Holy Spirit. Paul looked intently at Elymas—not with his own resolve but from the same Spirit who had been poured out at Pentecost.

Those of us who depend upon the Spirit still are called to say what needs to be said. This is not a call to be tactless or cruel. It is a call to courage. A call to speak truth to power. A call to speak truth with love. A call to trusting the Spirit to use our testimony even when its expression is dangerous.

Respond: What truth are you staying silent about because the cost of speaking feels too high? What conversation at work, in your family, with a friend, in your community are you avoiding because it’s dangerous or socially costly?

The Spirit who filled Paul to speak truth to power is the same Spirit who stands with you today. You don’t need to manufacture the courage. You need to ask for it—and then open your mouth.

So, as you think of the places where your testimony is needed, ask the Spirit to fill you with the courage to say what needs to be said in a relationship or context where you’ve been silent. Trust Him to work by His grace and power to do what is best for the one to whom you speak – and for you.

Prayer: Heavenly Father, fill me with courage. I can be tempted to remain silent about things that need to be said because the cost of speaking feels too high. I sometimes find myself softening truth to protect myself. I may avoid difficult conversations to keep the peace. I know that you call me to wisdom and loving expression, but help me not to use that standard to give in to fear. You filled Paul to speak truth to power—and the most powerful man in Cyprus believed. Fill me with that same Spirit. I’m not asking for confrontation. I’m asking for courage to say what needs to be said in the way that it is most loving to say it. Help me say what needs to be said where I’ve been afraid to say it. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Through The Bible in a Year - August 31, 2026

“Then after fasting and praying they laid their hands on them and sent them off. So, being sent out by the Holy Spirit, they went down to Seleucia, and from there they sailed to Cyprus.” - Acts 13:3-4

Verse 3 says the church sent them. Verse 4 says the Holy Spirit sent them.

Both are true. Because the church was worshipping, praying, and fasting – depending on God in humble devotion – they were doing the work of the Spirit. So, ultimately, when they laid hands on Paul and Barnabas, that commission was the mission of the Spirit. The institutional act and the spiritual act were the same act.

In the Spirit’s plan, the first place they went was Cyprus. Barnabas’s home. He knew the culture. That was a positive. But the people also knew him, knew his weaknesses, knew his history. That must have been a mixed blessing.

Who do we most resist sharing the gospel with? Often it’s the people who know us best. Our family. Our hometown. Our old friends. The people who remember exactly who we used to be and have every reason to be skeptical about who we say we’ve become because of our faith in Jesus.

Still, Paul and Barnabas went first to Cyprus – and also first to the synagogue there, where Jewish leaders would know Paul. Their first witness was not to the strangers, but to the people who would already have an opinion about them, and would be most aware of gospel changes in them. The Spirit sent Paul and Barnabas—not to the easy places, but to the necessary ones.

Often, the Spirit still sends people where they wouldn’t naturally choose to go. But He does so to make the gospel most apparent to those who may be most likely to oppose it. When there is opposition to your witness, remember the Holy Spirit who sent you is also interceding for you “with groanings too deep to utter” (Paul would later write) so that God’s will is made apparent by your witness.

Whether you’re sent to Cyprus or to China or to your home town, remember that whether you are at your family’s table or in a workplace conversation that feels dangerous—the Spirit who sent you remains with you. So also does God’s promise: “Not by might, not by power, but by My Spirit” shall my will be done.

Respond: Where is the Spirit sending you that you’ve been resisting? What conversation, what relationship, what context feels too familiar or too dangerous for the gospel?

The Spirit sent Paul and Barnabas to Cyprus—home—first. He often sends us to the people closest to us before He sends us farther.

Consider one person in your closest circle—family, friend, coworker—with whom you need to share something true about Jesus. Then remember to ask the Spirit to intercede for you according to God’s will so that God’s purposes would be accomplished not by your might or power, but by His Spirit.

Prayer: Heavenly Father, as I think about my family and friends, I know You are sending me somewhere or to someone that makes me uncomfortable. I’m afraid of what they’ll think—they know me too well. They know my past. They have every reason to doubt or question me. But You sent Paul and Barnabas home first, and You went with them. Send me where You desire, and go with me there. Equip me to speak for you not by my reputation, not in my strength, but by Your Spirit. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Through The Bible in a Year - August 27, 2026

“Now there were in the church at Antioch prophets and teachers, Barnabas, Simeon who was called Niger, Lucius of Cyrene, Manaen a lifelong friend of Herod the Tetrarch, and Saul.” - Acts 13:1

Five names. Five completely incompatible people—at least by every human measure.

Barnabas: a Jewish man raised in Greek culture, comfortable among Gentiles. Simeon called Niger: a man of African descent, considered ethnically impure by Jewish law, likely Simon of Cyrene who once carried Jesus’s cross to Golgotha, and watched Him die. Lucius of Cyrene: a man with a Roman name but with African descent, representing a part of Africa that Israel once conquered. Manaen: raised alongside Herod the Tetrarch—the man who not only beheaded John the Baptist, but also sent Jesus to Pilate to be crucified. Saul: the man who had led violent persecutions against the early Christians, dragging families from their homes, overseeing their imprisonment and death.

These were the leaders of the first missionary-sending church in history.

If you had survived the persecution Saul led, walked into that church, and seen him leading worship—that would have been almost unbearable. And yet the Spirit was saying: this is what Christ’s church looks like. Not uniformity. But unity achieved by Christ’s pardon and the Spirit’s power.

Such unity in worship and mission would not have been possible without the work of the Holy Spirit. Imagine surviving Auschwitz, finding your way to a church in America, walking through the doors for your first Sunday service—and the worship leader is a Nazi general who has since come to faith.

The unlikely image is actually reflected in the presence of Manaen and Saul at the church in Antioch.

For the early church to thrive, its members had to believe not only that “All have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God,” but also that God laid on Jesus the iniquity of us all. The gospel levels everyone. When sinners are leaders in the church, it’s because Someone has cleansed their sin. Someone who could cleanse people as broken as these can also deal with the sin in your life too. If He could save them and if He could use them, then He has a message for you.

The church doesn’t achieve unity by finding people who are already alike because they have no issues in their past and no cause for tension in the present. It achieves unity when the grace of God becomes greater in our eyes than the divisions between us.

Respond: Who in your church or community feels like “a bridge too far”? Who makes you think, “I can accept most people, but not that person”? The person with that political view. That past. That background. That sin you know about.

Yet, the Spirit that assembled a church leadership team in Antioch that should have been impossible is still in that business.

This week, ask honestly: “Am I willing to let the Spirit define who belongs in my community—or am I defining it myself?” Ask God to show you a person you’ve been keeping at a distance and take one step toward them because Christ died for them as He did for you.

Prayer: Heavenly Father, I confess that I draw lines around who belongs in your Church that You haven’t drawn. I find it easy to welcome people like me, but harder to welcome those whose past, background, or difference makes me uncomfortable. You assembled Barnabas and Simeon and Lucius and Manaen and Saul in one leadership team. I know that you desire to build Your Church today with such grace applied by the power of the Spirit. So, blow away my categories and my excuses for distance. Enlarge my welcome. Build unity in me that only Your grace can explain. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Through The Bible in a Year - August 26, 2026

“They were all filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other tongues as the Spirit gave them utterance… But Peter, standing with the eleven, lifted his voice and addressed them.” - Acts 2:4, 14

Two images stand out with special focus in the Pentecost account.

First: the Spirit came to be with His people in private—wind filling a house, fire resting on each person, the intimate presence of God with His own.

Then: Peter stood and lifted his voice in public before the crowd—emboldened, transformed, proclaiming the very Lord he had denied weeks before.

The Spirit’s presence with Peter in private made it possible for Peter to stand for Jesus in public.

This is often the gospel pattern. The relationship we have with the Lord in private provides the confidence and courage to stand for Him in public. The Spirit ministers privately to His people—so that they can stand publicly for their Lord. The personal filling comes first. The public boldness follows.

Peter didn’t manufacture courage at the moment he spoke. He received it when the Spirit ministered to his soul in the private room. Peter was filled, and then he spoke.

Our relationship with the Lord in private fuels the witness that we are willing and able to make for the Lord in public. The power and care that the Spirit makes real to our hearts in private makes everything different as we face the world.

When you’re in a classroom where faith is ridiculed. When you’re in a workplace where your values make you the outlier. When you’re in a family gathering where mentioning Jesus feels like detonating a bomb. When you’re facing the person who needs to hear the gospel and your mouth goes dry.

In all of these situations, we should remember that our God orchestrated His Son’s crucifixion and resurrection according to His “definite plan and foreknowledge.” But, in addition, to these great sweeps of history, we should also remember that the same God rushed in like wind and fire to a secluded room full of frightened disciples. The Spirit came with intimate care to show his power in a specific moment of need.

Respond: Where do you most need the Holy Spirit to stand with you this week? Where is the stand for Jesus going to be hardest to take—at work, in school, in your family, in a conversation you know needs to happen? Before taking your stand for Him, spend some time in private letting Him minister to your spirit with the truths of His Word and prayer.

Then, when that hard moment arrives, remember: you are not alone. The Spirit who ministered to your heart in private will prepare and use your witness in public, accomplishing his purposes according to the time and ways that He knows is best.

Prayer: Heavenly Father, I need to know You are with me before I can stand for You with courage and confidence in public. So, please use the Holy Spirit to prepare and strengthen my heart in private so I can be bold in public. Give me time and resolve to spend time in Your Word and prayer so that the Holy Spirit can prepare me for the challenges ahead. You came to a house full of frightened disciples and You transformed them. Do the same in me through the ministry of the Holy Spirit. Fill me with the courage and confidence that comes from the certainty of His power and care. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Through The Bible in a Year - August 25, 2026

“And Peter said to them [the Jewish pilgrims in Jerusalem], ‘Repent and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins, and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. For the promise is for you and for your children and for all who are far off, everyone whom the Lord our God calls to himself.’” - Acts 2:38-39

Peter ends his Pentecost sermon with one of the most expansive invitations in all of Scripture: “The promise is for you and for your children and for all who are far off.”

You. Your children. Those far away. Everyone the Lord calls.

He is speaking to crowds of people that must include those who crucified Jesus. People who shouted “Crucify Him.” People who mocked our Savior as He died. People who turned their faces rather than turned to him. Yet, the Holy Spirit inspires Peter to promise God’s grace to those who will repent in Jesus’s name. The same Spirit who had just filled Peter and the disciples with power—offers God’s grace to those who had rejected God’s Son.

Consider all the matters that do not limit the Spirit’s grace. Distance doesn’t disqualify. The Jewish pilgrims come from far away nations. Ethnicity doesn’t disqualify—Jews and proselytes and Cretans and Arabians and Egyptians and many more all hear in their own language. Shameful history doesn’t disqualify—the crucifiers are invited to receive the One crucified.

The promise is for everyone the Lord calls by the Holy Spirit. And if the Spirit is stirring in your heart as you read this, you are being called despite your previous distance, associations, or background.

The way the Holy Spirit worked at Pentecost was not entirely new. Peter proclaims that the Holy Spirit had been working across centuries to bring to fulfillment this prophecy made by the the Old Testament prophet Joel. Similarly, the Spirit had worked through a thousand years since King David to bring to reality the promises of the psalms. All had built toward this moment. The Spirit didn’t rush. He didn’t forget. He worked across generations and distant nations to bring people to the point of hearing, and responding to, the gospel of Jesus.

Our God writes long stories. The fact that he has not quickly resolved a problem or pain in your life is no evidence of his lack of power or care. The Spirit works to bring relationships and circumstance to a culminating moment that will best display and empower His gospel purposes. Instead of complaining or despairing about our difficulties, the realities of how the Spirit works are meant to provide us endurance and encouragement in the midst of difficult relationships, circumstances, and events.

Respond: Even if you have not previously walked closely with the Lord, you are not disqualified from having the Holy Spirit’s perfect timing apply to you. Peter’s proclamation of the gospel at Pentecost was for all kinds of people. Not just those who had acted justly or courageously or with religious correctness. Not just for the people who had more faith and less sin. The Holy Spirit is working for your spiritual good—exactly as you are, wherever you’re coming from, however far you feel from God.

Consider that the promise that Peter described at Pentecost is personally addressed to you. Say out loud: “The promise is for me. The Spirit is for me. I repent that I have not always believed that, but now receive His promise with faith that He writes long stories for my eternal good.”

Prayer: Father, I hear Peter saying the promise of the Holy Spirit’s work is for people like me—and part of me can hardly believe it. At times, I’ve been far off. I’ve drifted away from your purposes. I’ve turned my face from Your Son with my rejection and neglect of His love. But You extend the same promise to me that You extended to those who put Your Son on the cross. You promise your love will work through the power of the Holy Spirit on behalf of those who put their faith in Him. So, I repent of my unbelief and ask you to give me faith to receive the perfect timing and plan of the Spirit. I repent. I believe. Pour out Your Spirit on me as You promised. Give me the hope and strength that comes from believing your promise is for me. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Through The Bible in a Year - August 24, 2026

“Now there were dwelling in Jerusalem Jews, devout men from every nation under heaven. And at this sound [of many people speaking in other tongues] the multitude came together and they were bewildered, because each one was hearing them speak in his own language.” - Acts 2:5-6

The disciples had enormous problems. Jesus had been crucified and departed. They couldn’t speak the languages of the pilgrims flooding Jerusalem to tell of his resurrection. They had no platform, no resources, no standing that would make it humanly possible to tell the world about Jesus.

Yet, instead of waiting for them to find a way to the nations—the Lord had arranged for the people of many nations to come to their location for the celebration of Pentecost.

Instead of the disciples needing to learn every language to spread Christ’s message—everyone heard in their own tongue.

The problems that seemed to make the mission impossible became the platform on which the Spirit demonstrated what only He could do.

Later in Acts, Paul and Silas faced more human impossibilities. Beaten. Imprisoned. Chained in a dark cell in Philippi. Every door was locked. And then—there was an earthquake. The chains fell. Doors opened. A terrified Roman guard is converted. His household follows. Then, with Paul’s freedom, the gospel spreads from a prison cell across the Roman Empire.

The human problem again became the platform for the Holy Spirit’s work. 

I remember a senior statesman from our church who went on a medical mission to the Dominican Republic. He was unable to work through the day because he could not bear the heat. He was also unable to work efficiently because he could not speak Spanish. He felt useless but had an opportunity to share his reading glasses with another man who couldn’t otherwise read the small print in his Bible.

Of course, without his reading glasses, the senior statesman from our church wasn’t much help in guiding the other man through Scripture. So, the senior statesman simply told him, “The wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.” That was enough. Then, the man believed in Jesus. The senior stateman from our church later said, “I couldn’t do a thing by my own abilities. The Holy Spirit just took over.”

The problems of both men (the weaknesses of the senior statesman and the vision problems of the new believer) were the Holy Spirit’s platform to demonstrate His power and His care. Their inabilities became the invitation for the Spirit to move and work among them.

Respond: What problem seems beyond solution from God? What barrier, what limitation, what impossible situation makes you think His purposes can’t go forward in your life?

That problem may be exactly the platform the Spirit is waiting to use.

The testimony of the Spirit’s work in Scripture should encourage you to identify your biggest “problem” and reframe it as a question: “How might the Holy Spirit use this as a platform?” This does not require any of us to think that our problems are good, but allows us to pray that the Holy Spirit would make the problem the platform for the testimony of his power and care.

Prayer: Heavenly Father, I have been looking at my problems as indicators that You can’t use me or that the Holy Spirit can’t move through me. But Acts 2 shows that the disciples’ problems often became the platforms for the Spirit’s greatest work. My limitations, my failures, my impossible situations—I offer them to You. I’m not depending on my strength. I’m depending on the Spirit. Take my problems and make them His platforms to testify of your power and care. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Through The Bible in a Year - August 21, 2026

“But Peter, standing with the eleven, lifted his voice and addressed them… ‘Let all the house of Israel therefore know for certain that God has made him both Lord and Christ, this Jesus whom you crucified.’ Now when they heard this they were cut to the heart and said to Peter and the rest of the apostles, ‘Brothers, what shall we do?’ And Peter said to them, ‘Repent and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins, and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit.’” - Acts 2:14, 36-38

The man preaching on the day of Pentecost—calling thousands to repentance—had, just weeks earlier, cowered by a fire outside the place of Jesus’ trials and denied three times that he even knew Jesus.

“I don’t know Him,” He said with a curse.

But now here is that same Peter, standing before the crowd, filled with the Holy Spirit, preaching the boldest sermon any apostle had ever uttered.

This is not simply a record of Peter’s triumph. This is the Spirit’s work in Peter despite Peter. The message for all of us is that the Holy Spirit works beyond shame, pain, and failure. He worked through David—who loved God and then committed adultery and murder. He worked through Gideon who cowered in fear before going into battle and, then, turned to idolatry after God’s victory. The Holy Spirit even worked through Peter—who denied Christ multiple times. And now, the Spirit ministers to the very people who had crucified Jesus and calls them to repentance, offering them the same grace Jesus provided to the disciples who had failed Him.

The Apostle Peter says in Acts 1 that the Holy Spirit spoke through David about those who would betray Jesus—their failures were part of the determined plan of God to demonstrate his grace. The Spirit was working across centuries, across shameful history, through broken and failing people, orchestrating what needed to happen.

What are we to learn about this pattern of the Holy Spirit’s power and care? You may think God could not use you because of your past, your shame, or your sin. But God is working beyond your past and beyond your shame and despite your sin.”

I once witnessed former presidential candidate and Vietnam war hero, John McCain, get roughly brushed aside in an airport security line by a stranger in a hurry. When that man realized who he’d nearly knocked over, he sputtered an apology, but almost as quickly asked for a picture with Senator McCain. Onlookers were shaking their heads at the man’s brashness. Yet, the senator said, “It’s all right. We’re fine.”

Jesus, whom we have brushed aside, neglected, and rejected—that same Jesus gave Himself for us. And now His Spirit comes to our hearts to say: “You may have brushed him aside by your past selfishness and sin. But Jesus’ response never changes. He forgives. He receives. He stands with you and for you to say to you, “It’s alright. We are fine.”

Respond: What shame is making you believe the Holy Spirit couldn’t or wouldn’t work through you?

This week, name your shame honestly before God. Don’t explain it away. Don’t minimize it. Bring it exactly as it is and say: “This is what I’ve done. This is who I’ve been. Can You work through this?” The answer written across Acts 2 is: yes. The Holy Spirit delights to use our problems as a platform for displaying the grace of our Savior. So, repent, receive his pardon, and believe the promise of his grace is for you.

Prayer: Father, I can carry shame that makes me feel disqualified from Your purposes. That makes be deny You by not trusting in your provision. I fail You not only by my sin, but by brushing aside the care you offered to those that deserved disqualification. You worked through Peter, David, Gideon, and a vast host of other biblical figures with serious failings to demonstrate your grace. You even sent the Holy Spirit to the very people who crucified Your Son and used the Spirit to call them to Yourself. Give me faith that the Spirit is for me, too. Work through me. Work beyond my shame and doubt. Help me to receive the grace and purpose You provide by the power of the Holy Spirit. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Through The Bible in a Year - August 20, 2026

“When the day of Pentecost arrived, they were all together in one place. And suddenly there came from heaven a sound like a mighty rushing wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting.” - Acts 2:1-2

The disciples were not in the temple. They were not in the synagogue. They were not on the mountaintop or in any obviously sacred space.

They were in a house. Hidden. Afraid. Uncertain what to do next. Their Lord had been crucified. Their leader—Peter—had denied the Lord Jesus three times. The disciples had fled. They had failed. And now they were huddled together in a private place trying to figure out what next.

Who came next was the Holy Spirit. He came to them in the midst of their fears and failures.

The Holy Spirit did not show up after the disciples had cleaned themselves up. Not after they had figured out a strategy. Not after they had proven themselves worthy. The Spirit rushed in like wind and fire to the specific private place where broken, frightened, ashamed disciples were cowering—and gathered with them.

The Iowa caucuses that initiate our presidential election process work by citizens getting up from wherever they are in a room and going to stand with the representative of their candidate. But the Spirit reversed the process. The One who represented Jesus came and gathered with His people.

This is the pattern of God from the beginning of his dealing with humanity. He came walking in the garden of Eden for our first parents. He came down to the burning bush to call Moses. He descended to Sinai in fire and wind for people trying to shake off their slavery. And now He comes again—to a small house, to disappointed and discouraged disciples—in fire and wind.

The disciples had problems that seemed disqualifying of a visit from the Holy Spirit. Their Lord was crucified. Their boldest member had denied the Lord. The whole group was in hiding. Yet, God made it clear that those problems were a platform for demonstrating his power and grace.

I think of a graduate student under enormous pressure—comprehensive exams were looming, and doubts were looming about whether he was prepared, and whether he could find enough information to complete his research on the man he had chosen to study for his degree.

In the midst of these pressures he had to keep an appointment with his tax preparer. In the middle of that appointment, he happened to mention the man he needed to research for his degree. Amazingly, the tax preparer then said, “I know his family. I can tell you much about his background and work.” The student was amazed that the Holy Spirit had been arranging that conversation for years. His problems had become a platform for seeing and declaring the power and care of the Holy Spirit.

Respond: Where are you right now—what private, hidden place of fear or uncertainty are you sitting in? What problems or failures feel as though they should disqualify you from the work of the Holy Spirit in your life?

The Spirit isn’t waiting for you to get to a better place to enter into your life. He comes to the place you’re in. The Spirit’s wind doesn’t ask permission before it blows. The Spirit’s fire doesn’t wait until your heart is warm toward Him to ignite faith in you.

This week, invite the Spirit into your specific private place—your specific fear, your specific failure, your specific uncertainty. Say honestly: “I’m here. I’m afraid. I don’t know what comes next. Come, Holy Spirit.”

He will come. He already has.

Prayer: Holy Spirit, I am in a private place of fear and uncertainty right now. I don’t have it figured out. I’m not in a holy place. I’m just sitting here, trying to understand what comes next. But You came to a small house full of frightened, ashamed disciples, and You met with them there. Please come to where I am. Fill this specific space with Your presence. I’m not waiting until I’m worthy to ask you to come—I’m asking now because I want my problems to be a platform for your power and care. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Through The Bible in a Year - August 19, 2026

“And they rose that same hour and returned to Jerusalem. And they found the eleven and those who were with them gathered together, saying, ‘The Lord has risen indeed and has appeared to Simon!’ Then they told what had happened on the road, and how he was known to them in the breaking of the bread.” - Luke 24:33-35

They went back to Jerusalem and told everything—including the embarrassing parts of their story. We were leaving Jerusalem. Then, Jesus came to us. Yet, though we walked with Him for hours, we didn’t recognize Him. We thought everything we had hoped for was done.

Their testimony couldn’t have been very polished. Yet, it was transparent. And that transparency—the honest account of their blindness and grief and the way Jesus had met them in their disappointment—became the message that reached the gathered disciples.

Preacher and teacher, Paul Tripp, asks questions about struggles that don’t go away after we celebrate Christ’s resurrection at Easter: When sin looks attractive and you feel weak and vulnerable, what do you do with Easter? When you’ve been betrayed and thoughts of vengeance fill your head, what do you do with Easter? When the marriage is struggling and the child is rebellious and you lie in bed wondering whether God is for you in any of it—what do you do with Easter?

The answer from Emmaus: grieve for the plight. Then, lean on the promises. Even after Jesus had been crucified, the promises of heaven remained true and the resurrection’s power was building through the promised presence of the Holy Spirit.

At the 1992 Barcelona Olympics, sprinter Derek Redmond tore his hamstring while trying to complete his 400-meter race. He fell to the track. Officials tried to keep him down. Instead, he got up and limped toward the finish line. Then a figure broke through the security lines, came onto the track, and put Derek’s arm over his shoulder to carry him toward the finish line.

Derek didn’t recognize the person at first. Then he did. His father.

Derek wept. Not just from pain—from the import of his father’s presence. That presence signaled the love of one who had broken through every barrier of fencing and distance and spectators and security guards to get to his son. Yes, Derek wept for his father’s care – then, he leaned on his father.

So, what do we do with Easter, when we remember again all that our Heavenly Father did to provide for the salvation of spiritually limping children like us. We weep for the plight—for the sin that tempts us, the betrayal that wounds us, the marriage that struggles, the child who wanders, the worry that fills the night. Such weeping is right and honest, but not the end of our response. With the tears, we lean on the Father who broke every barrier—even death itself—to get to us with His care.

Respond: As you consider specific plights in your life, you can honestly confess where you are limping. You can identify what has torn in life’s hopes or expectations. But don’t end there. Meditate on the image of your Heavenly Father who has broken through all barriers of sin and circumstance to reach you. He is on the track of life with you. He has put your arm over His shoulder. He is holding you. He is carrying you. He is not leaving.

Weep for the plight. That’s honest. That’s right. But then lean—actually lean, with the full weight of your difficulty and distress—on the promised care of One who gave His Son so that you could be His child and never take one step that is beyond his care.

Prayer: Father, there are plights in my life for which I weep. They are real. They hurt. I don’t want to pretend otherwise. But I also remember what Easter means: You broke through every barrier—even death—to get your promised care to me. You gave Your Son so I could be Your child. I am not facing this plight alone. You promised to be with me. So, I lean on You now. Please help me with more than inspiration. Rescue. Restore. Redeem. Carry me to the blessings you know I need. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Through The Bible in a Year - August 18, 2026

“When he was at table with them, he took the bread and blessed and broke it and gave it to them. And their eyes were opened, and they recognized him. And he vanished from their sight. They said to each other, ‘Did not our hearts burn within us while he talked to us on the road, while he opened to us the Scriptures?’” - Luke 24:30-32

They had walked with Him for hours. They had listened to one of the greatest Bible lessons ever taught. Their hearts had burned with the insights of their teacher and the excitement he inspired—they said so themselves, looking back on their journey with Him. And they still didn’t recognize Him until He broke the bread at their supper.

It was such a Christ-like action—taking bread, blessing it, breaking it, giving it. He had done such on the night he was betrayed, and then would use the same action to remind His church of His sacrificial and victorious love for many centuries to come. So, in that gesture, the scales fell from their eyes.

The moment of recognition was followed immediately by absence: He vanished from their sight. The miracle advanced their understanding of who he was and the importance of what He had said on the road to Emmaus. Feeling that import they reflected more on His teaching about the unified message of the Bible, saying, “Did not our hearts burn within us while he talked to us on the road, while he opened to us the Scriptures?”

Their hearts now burned not only with recognition but with a sense of mission. Jesus had been with them. That meant that he had risen from the dead. That also meant that they needed to tell someone. So, that same hour, though the day was far spent, they got up and went back to Jerusalem. Seven miles, in the dark, to tell others what they had seen.

In one of the world’s most famous paintings, Michelangelo Caravaggio captured the moment that these disciples recognized Jesus at that supper in Emmaus. With artistry unusual for his era, Caravaggio depicted Jesus and the disciples as common working men, not aristocrats. There were no halos on any of the figures. No one sat back in glassy-eyed wonder at Jesus’s revelation of Himself. Instead, Caravaggio depicts the disciples rising from their seats, muscles taut, urgency on their faces, one disciple reaches toward the viewers of the painting, pulling them toward Jesus.

All is designed to reflect the new attitudes of those who were so dismayed on the road to Emmaus. The disciples are painted as if to relate, “Since this is Jesus—alive, here, present—we cannot stay seated. We must go and tell the world that the long-prophesied Redeemer has come. He has risen from the dead and He will truly save us, as the Scriptures have foretold.”

The recognition of the risen Jesus produces urgency. The burning heart that has met the broken bread cannot stay still. The persons in whom that heart burns must rise and go, even when the day is far spent, even when the road is dark, because what they have seen is too important to keep to themselves.

Respond: When was the last time your heart burned within you—in worship, in reading Scripture, in prayer, in a moment of sudden clarity about who Jesus is and what He has done? This week, ask Jesus to let your heart burn again as you consider how all the Scriptures predict and point to Him. Then, as you are thrilled again by the presence of the risen Lord, let your joy radiate into the witness that lets others know of His presence and power.

Prayer: Heavenly Father, I want my heart to burn again—not just to be inspired, but moved. Not just touched but changed and charged with purpose. Open the Scriptures to me so that the consistent message of Your grace becomes real and urgent and burning in me. And when I recognize Jesus’s presence and provision in the breaking of bread, don’t let me just feel a sentimental gratitude. Let your promise of His abiding love and power propel me. Let me rise with urgency to be Your witness for Christ in what I say and do for His glory. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Through The Bible in a Year - August 17, 2026

“And beginning with Moses and all the prophets, he interpreted to them in all the Scriptures the things concerning himself.” - Luke 24:27

Imagine walking seven miles with someone who explains the entire Bible to you—not simply as a rule book, not as a collection of moral tales, but as one unified story about His plans for you.

That’s what Jesus did on the road to Emmaus. He went through the whole Bible, whose early pages were written fifteen centuries before His birth, by forty different authors in several different nations, across times of war and famine and slavery and exile. He explained how all the Bible had, and has, one consistent message threading through it: a holy God who created us to bring Him glory provides a Redeemer to help and heal us when we fail Him. He is a Creator who is also a Redeemer.

There is no other book like this. No other collection of writings from so many people across so much time and distance with one coherent message. The consistency itself is astonishing—not just as religious literature but as evidence of something no purely human project could produce.

I remember the account of Amanda Lamon, who received letters from her mother 23 years after her death—love letters that had been lost through the deficiencies of foster care systems in multiple states and across years of displacement and disappointment. When the packet of letters finally arrived, it made national news. Twenty-three years of a mother’s letters finally reached their destination and expressed her love.

Amanda’s story was heartwrenching and stirring at the same time. Love found its way across time and distance to a child’s heart. That’s beautiful, but, your story is far better. God wrote your love letters across 1500 years of Biblical history. Through Moses and the prophets, through the Psalms and other books of poetry, through the historical books and the wisdom literature—through all of it, God was saying the same thing: “I have loved you with an everlasting love and I have prepared a Redeemer to come and give you an everlasting home with me.”

Unlike Amanda’s absent mother, who could only write human encouragement, “keep smiling and try to be brave,” your God, who sent his letters across the centuries to you, gave a divine promise: “I will never leave you or forsake you. I am with you always.”

God’s love letters are not a backward glance at the better life He wished he could have given his children. They are a present promise from a present God. He is here.

Respond: When did you last read the Bible as a love letter rather than a rulebook? When did you last look for its consistent thread of grace—the message of a Creator who Redeems, a God who provides for those who cannot provide for themselves?

The next time you read a passage from the Bible (Old Testament or New Testament), ask, “How is God here providing for those who cannot provide for themselves? How is this text showing me the nature and character of the grace that comes to fulfillment in Jesus. How is this account a love letter that is addressed to me?”

Prayer: Father, You have been writing to me across centuries—through Moses and the prophets and ultimately through Your Son. Forgive me for reading Your Word simply as a rulebook rather than a love letter. Open my eyes to the consistent message that runs from the first page to the last: You are the Creator who is also the Redeemer, and You have been coming for me all along. Let my heart experience the love you have had and always will have for me as I read the Bible. In Jesus’ name, Amen.