Through The Bible in a Year - July 17, 2026

"He said to them, 'But who do you say that I am?' Simon Peter replied, 'You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.' And Jesus answered him, 'Blessed are you, Simon Bar-Jonah! For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father who is in heaven.'" - Matthew 16:15-17

Jesus had already asked what other people were saying about Him. The answers were varied: John the Baptist, Elijah, Jeremiah, one of the prophets. Good guesses. Even flattering. But wrong.

Then Jesus turned to His disciples and made it personal: "But who do YOU say that I am?"

It's the most important question ever asked. Not "What do people say?" Not "What does the culture say?" Not "What do your parents say, or your church, or your theology textbook?" But you. Personally. Right now. Who is He to you?

Peter's answer is everything: "You are the Christ—the anointed One, the long-promised Messiah. The Son of the living God."

Not just a teacher. Not just a prophet. Not merely a moral example. Not a genie in a bottle. Not a dancing bear on a chain who performs signs on demand.

Jesus is the Christ. The Son of the living God.

Jesus isn't playing the fame game. When the Pharisees and Sadducees came demanding a sign—after He'd already healed the blind, fed 5,000, stilled a storm, and cast out demons—He refused. What were the Jewish leaders really asking? What the human heart always does: "What have you done for me lately?"

There's a difference between wanting Jesus for what He provides and knowing Jesus for who He is. The Pharisees wanted a performance. Peter declared a person. Jesus isn't a cosmic vending machine or an entertaining magician. He is the Christ—the one who died for your sin, rose from the dead, and holds the keys of death and Hades.

Respond: Answer the question honestly: Who do you say Jesus is?

Is He a helpful addition to your life—someone you turn to when things get hard but set aside when things are comfortable? Is He a set of rules to follow to get earthly blessings from God? Is He a vending machine you approach with prayer requests?

Or is He the Christ—the Son of the living God—to whom you have surrendered everything, whose death paid a price you couldn't pay, whose resurrection secures a future you couldn't earn? Only when he is the Christ to whom you owe your eternity because of his sacrifice for you, will you truly know the blessings of uniting your heart to his (and having Him unite His to yours) forever.

This week, write out your answer to Jesus' question. Don't write what you know is the "right" churchy answer. Write the honest one. And then ask Him to make the true answer – that He is the Lord of the Universe who gave Himself to save your eternal soul – real in your daily life.

Prayer: Lord Jesus, You're asking me directly: Who do I say You are? I don't want to give You the Sunday school answer. I want to say and believe the true one. You are the Christ—the Son of the living God. Not a vending machine. Not a dancing bear who performs on demand. You are not a genie in a bottle. You are the one who came to die for my sin, who rose from the dead, who conquered hell itself. Help me live like I actually believe that – help me to live for the One I believe died for me. Make this confession the foundation of everything I do. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Through The Bible in a Year - July 16, 2026

"When Jesus came into the district of Caesarea Philippi, he asked his disciples, 'Who do people say the Son of Man is?'" - Matthew 16:13

No Jewish holy man would go to Caesarea Philippi. It was the Roman center of paganism—a place where sexual slavery, prostitution, and bestiality were celebrated and approved by pagan Roman religion. It was, quite literally, among the most morally filthy places in the ancient world.

Still, Jesus went there.

Not accidentally. Not reluctantly. He walked right into the middle of it and began one of the most important conversations in all of Scripture.

Why would He go there? Because that is where the people were that needed Him. And He was making a point—not just with His words but with His feet. "I am willing to get in the mud for you."

We are sometimes tempted to think our lives are too dirty, too complicated, too broken for Jesus to come near. Too much has been done to us. Too much has been done by us. There are things we can barely confess to ourselves, let alone to God. Surely Jesus wouldn't come near all of that.

But Caesarea Philippi says otherwise.

Just weeks before the cross, Jesus deliberately journeyed to the darkest, most morally compromised place in the region of Israel—and there He declared His kingdom. Not from a mountaintop of purity. From the mud of Caesarea Philippi.

Jesus isn't calling you to have it all together before He shows up. He is the God who shows up in the mud. He went to Caesarea Philippi. He will come to wherever you are.

Respond: What place in your life have you decided is too dark, too dirty, too far gone for Jesus to enter?

Maybe it's a relationship you're ashamed of. A habit you can't break. A part of your past you've never brought before God because it feels too ugly. A current struggle too embarrassing to admit even in prayer.

Remember that Jesus went to Caesarea Philippi. He is willing to get in the mud to rescue those who are there.

This week, bring the thing you've been keeping away from God directly to Him. Don't clean it up first. Don't explain it away. Just bring it. He's already been to places far worse. He will not be surprised. He will not turn away. He went there for exactly this.

Prayer: Lord Jesus, I've been keeping parts of my life away from You because they feel too dark, too dirty, too shameful. But You walked into Caesarea Philippi without flinching. You get in the mud. You come to where people are, not where they pretend to be. I bring You the parts of my life I've been hiding. Come into the mess. Come into the mud. You are not afraid of it. And I trust that You are present, even there. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Through The Bible in a Year - July 15, 2026

"He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. When he has brought out all his own, he goes before them, and the sheep follow him, for they know his voice... I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep." - John 10:3-4, 11

One of the most striking things about the Middle Eastern shepherd is what he doesn't do. He doesn't drive his sheep from behind—prodding, pushing, forcing them forward. He leads from the front. He walks ahead into unknown territory. He goes first.

That means when the path is uncertain, the shepherd has already been there. When the valley is dark, the shepherd has already entered it. When the danger is ahead, the shepherd is already standing between the flock and whatever threatens it.

"He goes before them."

And Jesus—the Good Shepherd—took that to its ultimate expression. He didn't just lead through danger. He led through death itself. He went to the cross first. He lay in the tomb first. He walked out of it first. And because He went before, He can lead His sheep through.

I remember the first time that I conducted the funeral of a young person. Friends wept, a community mourned, parents were devastated and I felt totally inadequate. The only thing I knew to do was pray for God’s help and in his mercy brought an old hymn to mind: "He leadeth me. O precious thought. O words with heavenly comfort fraught. Whatever I do, wherever I be, still 'tis God's hand that leadeth me."

I needed those words to remind me that Jesus was already leading that young person to a heavenly home, leading friends and family to needed faith, and leading me to adequacy beyond my ability. Jesus was already ahead of us all, leading us to his presence, power, and peace.

Whatever you are facing right now—the shepherd has gone before you.

The grief you're walking into—He's been there. He wept at a tomb. He knows what it is to lose someone dear.

The suffering that seems pointless—He has walked that path ahead of you, hanging on a cross abandoned by friends and family. He knows what it is to be in pain without immediate resolution.

The future trials that lie ahead—He went ahead of us into those also, setting His face like a flint toward Jerusalem knowing what was waiting. He walked into the pain and come through it so that we would never have to face it alone or without purpose.

You are not walking into anything that your Shepherd has not already entered ahead of you.

Respond: What path ahead of you feels most uncertain or frightening right now? What valley are you approaching that you can't see through?

The shepherd goes before you. Not beside you—before you. He is already there. Already standing between you and whatever threatens. Already knowing the way through.

This week, pray Psalm 23 about God’s presence in shadowed valleys as a personal declaration about the specific valley you're facing. Don't read it generally. Read it as a word about your specific situation. "Even though I walk through this valley—He is with me. His rod and His staff, they comfort me. He prepares a table in the presence of my enemies."

He has gone before you. Follow His voice. He will take you through.

Prayer: Good Shepherd, I can see the valley ahead and I don't want to walk into it. I don't know how to get through. Help me to remember that You go before me. You have already been to the cross and through the tomb. You know what it is to walk through darkness and come out the other side. Lead me. Help me follow Your voice. Even through this. You are ahead of me – and behind me, and above me, and below me. I trust You to lead me through. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Through The Bible in a Year - July 14, 2026

"My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of my hand. My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all, and no one is able to snatch them out of the Father's hand. I and the Father are one." - John 10:27-30

Jesus makes one of the most breathtaking promises in all of Scripture: no one—no one—can snatch His sheep out of His hand. Or out of the Father's hand. And He and the Father are one.

Two hands. The same grip. Greater than all. No exceptions.

Notice also what He does not say. He doesn't say, "They will never perish as long as they hold on tightly enough." He does not say, "They will never perish as long as they don't struggle or doubt or sin." He says, "They will never perish"—full stop—because they are in His hand, not because of how tightly they're holding on to His.

I remember playing "helicopter" with my children, when they had bunk beds. I would lie on the top bunk, and then would reach down, allowing them to grab my hand as I lifted them high in the air. Yet, every time, as they dangled in the air, they would cry: "Daddy, I can't hold on to you! Hold on to me!"

That's the picture of the hand of the Lord that secures our eternity. Your grip isn't the point. His grip is.

A young musician spent years cycling through churches and groups in search of a father figure who would stay. Yet, it wasn't until he was at a concert, overwhelmed by lyrics rooted in Psalm 40 about God lifting us from the miry pit of our lives that the grace of God broke through—not because the musician finally held on tightly enough, but because he understood how the steadfast care of the Lord never lets go. Confidence in His grip, not ours, is the source of the strength and peace that we need to face our fears and trials. Remember, "When I fear my faith will fail, Christ will hold me fast."

Respond: What makes you doubt that you're securely in His hand? Persistent sin? Recurring doubt? The feeling that you haven't been faithful enough, passionate enough, certain enough?

Jesus didn't say His sheep are the ones who can hold on to Him most tightly. He said His sheep hear His voice. If deep in your heart you hear Him calling your name and believe that He paid the penalty for your sin that you could not, that he lifts you to heaven even when you did not have the strength to keep holding on to Him, then you are safe.

Jesus has you. Even when you can't hold on to Him, He will hold on to you. Confidence in his grip, not ours, is our peace no matter how difficult our days. When you are weak remember that He is strong and will not let you go.

Prayer: Lord Jesus, some days I feel like I can barely hold on. My faith feels thin. My doubts feel strong. My failures feel disqualifying. But You didn't say my security depends on my grip. You said no one will snatch me out of Your hand, nor out of Your Father's hand. So, grant me faith that you will hold me fast when I have lost confidence that I can hold on. Help me not to place my trust in my faithfulness but Yours. When I fear my faith will fail—hold me fast. In Your name, Amen.

Through The Bible in a Year - July 13, 2026

"I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. He who is a hired hand and not a shepherd, who does not own the sheep, sees the wolf coming and leaves the sheep and flees.... I am the good shepherd. I know my own and my own know me, just as the Father knows me and I know the Father; and I lay down my life for the sheep." - John 10:11-15

The contrast Jesus draws is sharp and deliberate. The hireling works for wages—he's there as long as the conditions are favorable for him. When danger appears, his calculation is simple: the pay isn't worth the risk. He runs.

But the Good Shepherd is not motivated by pay. He is motivated by love. These are His sheep. He knows them. He owns them in the deepest sense—not as property, but as those dear to Him, more dear than his own life. So, when the wolf appears, He doesn't calculate risk. He steps in front of it.

As that Good Shepherd, Jesus says, "I lay down My life for the sheep."

Not "I may sacrifice something." Not "I will endure to some degree of discomfort." But "I lay down My life."

This is what Israel's shepherds – priests and kings – failed to be for centuries. They used their position for personal gain rather than the good of the flock. But now comes Jesus: the Greater King, the truer Priest – the one the prophets predicted would come and actually lay down His life for those in His care.

The question of which shepherds are hirelings and which provide genuine care still applies.

Whom do you trust to provide for your greatest security?

In modern terms, the hireling is the career, relationship, substance, salary, or achievement that will hold up as long as conditions are acceptable. But when the threats to our security appear—when the diagnosis comes, when the relationship fails, when the career collapses—the hireling runs.

Jesus doesn't run. He steps in front of the danger. He lays down His life. Not because of what you've done, but because you are one of His sheep. You are one that He knows by name and loves.

Respond: What have you been entrusting to a hireling that only the Good Shepherd can be trusted to provide?

What relationships, achievements, or securities have you been leaning on as if they were your shepherd—only to find them running when danger or appeared?

Bring your specific disappointments and dangers to Jesus. He is not surprised that you were let down by a hireling. He has always been the only One who would not run from the worldly threats that endanger us. Lay your trust on Jesus—not on what holds up only when conditions are favorable. Trust in the One who came for you when the cross was in front of Him.

Prayer: Good Shepherd, I confess I've been trusting hirelings—things and people and achievements that hold up when life is manageable, but run when real danger comes. I've been disappointed. I've felt abandoned. But You are not a hireling. You didn't run from the Cross. You stepped in front of the worst of spiritual dangers for me. You laid down Your life for me. Help me trust You as the Shepherd You actually are—not providing for me just when things are fine, but staying with me, even when the wolf appears. I need your protection and trust you for it. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Through The Bible in a Year - July 10, 2026

"So Jesus again said to them, 'Truly, truly, I say to you, I am the door of the sheep. All who came before me are thieves and robbers, but the sheep did not listen to them. I am the door. If anyone enters by me, he will be saved and will go in and out and find pasture.'" - John 10:7-9

A traveler visiting the Holy Land once stood inside an ancient sheepfold—a small room formed by rocks stacked against a hillside with one small opening. She asked the shepherd where the door was. He looked at her as if she'd asked something slightly ridiculous, then lay down across the opening.

"I am the door," he said.

No wood. No hinges. No lock. The shepherd himself was the door. He lay across the entrance so that nothing could get in or out without going through him. His body was his sheep’s protection.

When Jesus said "I am the door," this is exactly what He meant. He is not a door among many doors. He is the door through whom all who enter will be saved and the door that will close to protect all who enter from danger.

He is the true door—giving himself for our spiritual safety and salvation. And He is the door that will open to all who want His care.

The unified message of Scripture from Genesis through Revelation underscores two vital truths. First: "You are not your Redeemer."

Second: “No one but Jesus can redeem you from this world’s spiritual dangers.” Not Abraham. Not Moses. Not David. Not you by your good deeds, your prayers, your church attendance, your moral record. None of these are the door to your spiritual safety.

"I am the door," Jesus says. "If anyone enters by Me, he will be saved."

Jesus says that He is the door to make it clear you can't provide for your spiritual safety by yourself. But he also makes it clear that He is the door provided for you—opened not by your abilities but by faith in His.

Respond: Honest question: What are you still trying to add to Jesus’ provision as the basis for your eternal safekeeping? More consistent Bible reading? Better behavior? More generous giving? Years of faithful church attendance?

None of those things will be the door to your eternal safety. They may be good things—but they are not the way in. Only Jesus is.

This week, practice saying this: "I am not the door. He is. My relationship with God is through what He has done, not what I do. He has opened the door for me. Trust him for your spiritual safety. He is the best door—and the only door that will truly open eternity for you and protect you from every evil that would endanger it."

Let that penny drop from your head to your heart.

Prayer: Lord Jesus, I confess that I am always tempted to go through other doors to get to God—my good behavior, my religious track record, my efforts to be worthy. Forgive me. You are the true door, the only door, and the open door. My standing before God is not based on what I bring but on what You have done. You laid down your life across the entrance of eternity, inviting me to pass through safely and be protected eternally. Thank you for being a door for me. In Your name, Amen.

Through The Bible in a Year - July 9, 2026

"The sheep hear his voice, and he calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. When he has brought out all his own, he goes before them, and the sheep follow him, for they know his voice." - John 10:3-4

In the ancient world, a single sheepfold often held multiple flocks from multiple shepherds. They all slept together overnight for protection. But in the morning, when a shepherd called out, only his sheep responded. They knew his specific voice.

Jesus adds to the poignancy of that image by saying that He doesn't just call His flock in general. He calls each sheep by name.

Psalm 147 says God determines the number of stars and calls each one by name. Science now tells us the number of stars exceeds the grains of sand on every beach of every ocean on earth. That many stars—and He names every one.

And yet the same God who names every star in an incomprehensibly vast universe knows your name. Knows your voice. Knows your story.

As a recent song rightly declares, "I have a Maker. He formed my heart before even time began. My life was in His hands. He knows my name. He knows my every thought. He sees each tear that falls. And hears me when I call."

A dear young woman came with an internal struggle so see me. She was bright, effervescent, beloved by her youth group, but had become someone even she didn't recognize. Living between two worlds of good and bad choices, two voices were pulling her in opposite directions. She confessed, "I don't know which is the real me."

Most of us can locate that experience somewhere in our own lives. One life at church, another at work. One life in public, another in secret. And beneath all the competing voices, the desperate question: "Who am I really?"

Jesus answers that question not by handing you a personality quiz but by calling you by name. Your identity isn't determined by the loudest voice around you. It's secured by the One who named you before time began and calls you still.

Respond: What competing voices are most loudly defining your identity right now? The voice of your failures? Your achievements? Your family's expectations? Your culture's values? Your own sin struggles?

Jesus' voice may not be the loudest—but it is the truest. And His sheep, Jesus says, know His voice. His voice is saying that you are His and He is yours.

This week, practice listening for His voice specifically. Read John 10 slowly about the Good Shepherd who calls his sheep by name. Read Psalm 23 aloud as your Lord declares that He is your shepherd and you are his sheep. Let the words land not just in your mind but in your heart. Let the truth that the God of the universe knows your name and names you as his own settle your mind about your true identity. God is calling you by the name that marks you as His own. He is identifying the real you as one that He loves and will shepherd through life’s trials and temptations. Listen to Him as he speaks to you from His Word.

Prayer: Dear Lord, there are so many voices telling me who I am—voices of failure, voices of expectation, voices of doubt. Sometimes I can barely hear You above the noise. But You know my name. You call me specifically. You see every tear that falls, and hear me when I call. Quite the other voices this week. Help me hear Yours. Let my identity be shaped not by what others say or what I do or fear, but by what You call me: Yours. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Through The Bible in a Year - July 8, 2026

"Now when they drew near to Jerusalem... Jesus sent two disciples... The disciples went and did as Jesus had directed them... And the crowds that went before him and that followed him were shouting, 'Hosanna to the Son of David!'" - Matthew 21:1-11

Jesus knew exactly what was waiting for Him in Jerusalem. He had already told His disciples plainly: "We are going up to Jerusalem, and the Son of Man will be delivered to the chief priests and scribes. They will condemn Him to death, deliver Him to the Gentiles, mock Him, spit on Him, flog Him, and kill Him. And on the third day He will rise."

He rode toward His own prophecy. He knew the mocking, the spitting, the flogging, the cross were all ahead. He could see Jerusalem from the Mount of Olives as He rode toward the city. He could see the temple. He knew what would happen inside its walls within the week. He also knew what would happen on a cross outside the city walls in that same week.

And still He rode on.

We call Jesus’ final journey into Jerusalem his “Triumphal Entry.” It had been a long road to that “triumph.” He was born in a lowly manger, had to flee to Egypt to escape his own religion’s leaders, was raised in the tiny town of Nazareth – whose people would later try to kill Him, never received the respect of religious leaders, and was crucified by Roman soldiers.

Why did Jesus endure all of this suffering? Because He was coming to share his heart with us.

"Jesus was relentless in His pursuit of us so that we would have no hesitation in seeking and serving Him."

Think about what that relentlessness journey cost Jesus. From the foundations of the world, He was the Lamb set apart for slaughter. From the moment He entered human history, He was moving toward the cross. Every step of His ministry was a step toward Calvary—and He took every step willingly, with full knowledge, with eyes open, because He was coming to provide the grace we need through the suffering He did not deserve.

His sacrifice was offered not because we were worthy, but because we were in need. His provision came not because we had lived well enough or believed hard enough, but because His heart was determined to claim us. He was relentless, unwilling to let us go.

Respond: What has made you hesitant to come to Jesus? What failure, what weakness, what shame, what persistent sin has made you think He wouldn't want you?

He rode into the jaws of His own prophecy—knowing the cross was waiting—because He was coming for you. He claimed the territory of your pain, your shame, your sin, and your weakness by entering into it Himself. Nothing in your life surprises Him. Nothing in your life will turn Him away.

This week let Christ’s relentless love for you stop you from hesitating to follow Him. Confess your sin, acknowledge your unworthiness, and trust in the One who rode relentlessly toward you so that you could rest in his pardon and peace.

He came after you so relentlessly because He wants you. Go to Him.

Prayer: Lord Jesus, You rode on knowing everything—the mocking, the spitting, the cross. You rode on knowing everything about me too—every failure, every weakness, every sin before and after I claimed You. And still You rode on. You were relentless in Your pursuit of me so that I would have no hesitation in seeking You. So here I am—no hesitation, no pretense. I confess my sin. I confess my unworthiness. I trust in the One who rode toward the cross for my sake. Though trials should come, though Satan should buffet, let this blessed assurance control: it is well with my soul because Jesus claimed me – even me. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Through The Bible in a Year - July 7, 2026

"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... Jesus said to them, '…Have you never read, "Out of the mouth of infants and nursing babies you have prepared praise"?'" - Matthew 21:14-16

Who praised Jesus on Palm Sunday?

Not the Roman soldiers watching from the garrison across the valley. Their report would have been: "Nothing to worry about. Just a pauper rabbi on a borrowed donkey surrounded by poor people and children."

Not the chief priests or scribes. They were indignant at the very idea that this man deserved such worship.

It was the poor, who needed his help. The blind and the lame who came to Him for healing. And it was the seemingly inconsequential children who cried out "Hosanna to the Son of David!" in the temple.

The religious establishment was offended. But Jesus quoted Psalm 8: "Out of the mouth of infants and nursing babies You have prepared praise." As if to say: "The ones you have dismissed are seeing most clearly what you, with all your learning, have missed entirely."

The victory lap that Jesus took around Israel before riding into Jerusalem didn't begin a few days earlier when he passed through Jericho or even when he went to Caesarea Philippi, where Peter declared Him, “the Christ.” The victory of Christ’s earthly ministry began in an animal stall in Bethlehem, where He was laid in a manger—the King of the universe born in poverty. Then, as a refugee, King Jesus was taken down to Egypt to escape a jealous and murderous King Herod. Then growing up in an obscure carpenter's home in the looked-down-upon town of Nazareth. Then came years of itinerant ministry in which he was rejected by His own people, but welcomed by the poor and the broken.

He claimed territory not by military conquest or political maneuvering, but by entering into the pain, the shame, and the sin of humanity. And the people who recognized Him were the ones who needed Him most: the blind, the lame, the poor, the children.

I once considered the importance of this heavenly King coming to minister in such humility as I watched a worship leader lead the singing of a large conference. Her frame was small and shrunken from days that I had known her as a younger woman. She was now carrying the weight of a broken home, a betrayed marriage, a hurting life. Yet, she led hundreds of others in singing a hymn whose words are, "Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come, let this blessed assurance control—that Christ has regarded my helpless estate and has shed His own blood for my soul. It is well with my soul."

The trials that had buffeted the worship leader had not convinced her that her Savior had abandoned her. She believed that he knew her pain and never ran from those experiencing the same pain and desperation of life’s trials. His humility was her confidence and comfort.

Respond: Are you more like the chief priests—theologically informed but somehow missing the point of who Jesus is? Or more like the children—broken, dependent, crying out "Hosanna" because you genuinely need saving?

The chief priests had more knowledge. The children had more sight.

This week, come to Jesus the way the blind and the lame came—with nothing to offer but your need. No performance. No credentials. No pretense of having it all together. His humility should be your confidence. Just say to Jesus, "I need You. Hosanna—God, save me." I need you.

That humble prayer will move His heart because his humility brought Him to this earth to give himself sacrificially for you. The humility that he showed for his people is the humility he loves in his people.

Prayer: Lord, the religious establishment missed understanding Jesus, but the blind, the lame, and the children got it right. I want to be like them—not performing, not pretending, not trying to impress You with my knowledge or my righteousness. Just coming to You humbly with my need because Jesus came in humility for me. Help me to be so humble as to be willing to say, “Hosanna. God, save me” with the confession that I am the helpless apart from Jesus. Yet, he who regarded my helpless estate shed His own blood for my soul. Let this blessed assurance control my heart. He is humble enough to look past the trials and troubles that humble me and to love me. So, it is well with my soul. Thank you for sending Jesus to make it so. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Through The Bible in a Year - July 6, 2026

"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?'" - Matthew 21:8-11

When the crowd spread cloaks and palm branches in the road and shouted "Hosanna," they weren't inventing a new ceremony. They were reenacting the inauguration of King Jehu—the Old Testament king sent by God to deliver Israel from the wicked reign of Ahab and Jezebel. When Jehu arrived so suddenly and unexpectedly, the people improvised: no silk carpets, no gold bricks, just whatever they had—cloaks, branches, whatever was at hand—was spread in the road as a makeshift coronation carpet.

And "Hosanna" was not just an exclamation of praise. It was the cry from Psalm 118, shouted annually at the Feast of Tabernacles—the feast that celebrated God tabernacling, making His home with His people. "Hosanna" means "God saves." "Hosanna in the highest" means "God’s salvation deserves our highest praise and honor."

The crowd may not have fully understood what they were saying. But they were right. This King had come to deliver His people from a worse enemy than Ahab. He had come to tabernacle with humanity forever, making his home in the hearts of those who receive Him. And for those who receive Jesus as their Savior and Lord, God saves forever – that is the highest of blessings, deserving the highest of praise.

The whole city was stirred up asking, "Who is this?" It is still the most important question any person can answer.

Not "What do people say about Jesus?" Not "What does my tradition declare about Jesus?" But honestly, personally: Who is this Jesus to you?

Jesus made this ride as a deliberate declaration of His identity. He rode the prophesied donkey. He accepted the coronation cloaks. He received the Hosannas. He preceded this triumphal entry with a personal tour through the territories of Israel, re-claiming them as His own—from Dan in the north, to Caesarea Philippi in the west, through Jericho like Joshua in the east, then – from the South – down the Mount of Olives. Jesus was leaving no ambiguity about who He was or the claim that He had on the Promised Land that reflects the spiritual Kingdom He gives to those who trust Him. Jesus’s journey showed that, unlike previous kings of Israel, He was the King who would not fail to claim or hold all the territory that God had prepared for his people.

Jesus is the King. Not one option among many. Not simply a prophet among prophets. Not just a teacher among teachers. He is the King. The One who deserves our love and devotion because His power and love are securing the blessings of his eternal Kingdom for us.

Respond: "Who is this?"—the whole city asked it, and it's still the question that determines everything.

If He is truly the King—not just of Palm Sunday but of your life—then He is due the honor of your heart, the praise of your lips, and the obedience of your daily choices.

This week, take stock of how you're actually treating Jesus day to day. Are you treating Him as the King who deserves your devotion, or as a helpful advisor whom you listen to when it seems best for you? Where is your practical allegiance going—to His priorities or to the world's?

The crowd gave Jesus what they had—improvised, inadequate, but genuine devotion. Bring what you have – your resources, your priorities, your devotion. Give them to the King and He will reign in your heart and life, providing what is absolutely best for your eternal soul in his Kingdom.

Prayer: Lord, the crowd asked "Who is this?" and I want to answer from my heart, not just my head: Jesus is my King. He is the Son of David, the fulfillment of every prophecy, the one who came to deliver me from a worse enemy than Ahab. Because of Jesus, I can shout, “Hosanna—God saves—in the highest”. Jesus is my King. Not just a helpful advisor for my life. Jesus is King over my life. So, help me to lay whatever I have in the road of my life before Your Son—my inadequate praise, my imperfect obedience, my whole life. He is worthy of it all. Help me to trust Him enough to consecrate my all to Him. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Through The Bible in a Year - July 3, 2026

"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.'" - Matthew 21:12-13

When Jesus cleared the temple, He wasn't having a bad day. He was acting as our Great High Priest, protecting the worship of God's people and ensuring access to God for all nations.

The money changers were extortionists, preying on pilgrims who had traveled from distant lands with foreign currencies. The pigeon sellers were exploiting the poor—pigeons were the only sacrifice the poor could afford, and here were merchants making profit from even that small act of devotion.

But something even larger was at stake. The money changers had taken over the Court of the Gentiles—the only space in the entire temple complex where non-Jews could gather to pray and seek God. The full verse from the Prophet Isaiah that Jesus quotes is: "My house shall be called a house of prayer for all nations." But the one place in the Jerusalem temple designated for other nations to come to God was now occupied by Israel’s profiteers.

Jesus cleared it all. Not because He was angry at commerce, but because His heart was burning for the poor who were being exploited and for the nations who were being excluded.

The same Jesus who cleared the temple to protect worship still acts as our High Priest. He still intercedes for us. He still ensures that nothing—no sin, no shame, no background, no nationality, no ethnicity—can keep us from the God who desires all people to come to Him.

What has set up tables for personal gain in your own heart where prayer should be? What has crowded out the quiet space where you meet with God? Anxiety can do it. Busyness can do it. Entertainment can do it. Bitterness can do it. The noise of a thousand other things can colonize the court of your heart until there's no room left for prayer.

Jesus, our High Priest, wants to clear that space. Not in judgment, but in care. He is protecting your access to God.

Respond: Consider your own "court of prayer"—the space in your daily life where you are supposed to meet with God. What has taken it over? What has crowded out Scripture reading, quiet prayer, and honest communion with God?

Jesus overturned the tables because the house of prayer had become a house of commerce. Where has convenience, busyness, personal gain, or distraction turned your house of prayer into something else?

This week, it may be time for you to carve out of your schedule a protected time of prayer each day. Clear the space. Overturn the tables of whatever has crowded in. And then use that space for its intended purpose: meeting with the God who died to make your access to Him an eternal blessing.

Prayer: Dear Lord, You cleared the temple because Your house was meant to be a house of prayer—for Your people and for all nations. But I confess that my own heart has become cluttered. The space I should reserve for You has been colonized by busyness, distraction, personal gain, anxiety, and noise. Come into my heart and clear it. Overturn the tables of selfish pursuits. Make space in me for prayer again. I want to meet with You. Protect my access to You, by reminding me of the access I have to you through Jesus, my great High Priest. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Through The Bible in a Year - July 2, 2026

"Jesus sent two disciples, saying to them, 'Go into the village in front of you, and immediately you will find a donkey tied, and a colt with her. Untie them and bring them to me... This took place to fulfill what was spoken by the prophet, saying, "Say to the daughter of Zion, Behold, your king is coming to you, humble and mounted on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a beast of burden."'" - Matthew 21:1-5

Five hundred years before Palm Sunday, the prophet Zechariah wrote that Israel's Savior king would come to Jerusalem riding on a donkey—not just any donkey, but specifically the unridden foal of a donkey. That level of precision across five centuries is staggering.

To place it in a similar time perspective: it would be like Columbus predicting the Cubs would win the World Series. The prediction would have seemed preposterous at the time it was given. Israel was in captivity when Zechariah wrote his prophecy. God’s people were wondering if they'd ever return to Jerusalem, let alone see their king arrive in such a specific way.

But God was working over time, in detail, across centuries. Jesus didn't just fulfill the general prediction—He fulfilled the specific one. The exact village. The exact donkey. The exact reaction of the owner. He even predicted what His disciples would say and how the owner would respond.

Jesus is the prophet who knows in detail, across time, exactly what is coming—and He fulfills the prophecies about his ministry perfectly.

The same God who knew five centuries in advance the specific donkey on which His Son would ride into Jerusalem knows the specific details of your life today.

I think of the importance of such knowledge to someone like my youngest daughter. When she graduated from college, she did not know what job, location, friends, or spouse might be in her future. That caused a lot of anxiety. Yet, the message from this passage is that God is saying to her (and to us): "I know in detail beyond your time frame the plans that I have for you. I love you and am preparing the future for you. I won't be surprised. I know the details and will provide what is best for your eternity."

God's precision with the details of Palm Sunday is His message about the details of your life. He is not a distant deity who set the universe in motion and walked away. He is the God who knew which unridden colt would be tied in which village on which day—and He knows every detail of what you're facing right now.

Respond: What details of your life feel too uncertain, too complicated, too small for God to care about? A career decision, a relationship, a health concern, a family tension, a financial worry?

God's mastery of prophetic detail provides His credentials for your trust. If He could predict the unridden foal of a donkey five centuries in advance, He knows and can handle your future.

This week, consider your three biggest uncertainties. Then pray over each one: "Lord, You are the God who fulfilled Zechariah's prophecy in exact detail. You know the details of my life too. I trust You with these. Give me confidence in your wisdom and care for things I cannot know but that are plain to you already." Then, keep that list up to date, and trust the God of prophetic detail with the specifics of your life.

Prayer: Heavenly Father, You sent Jesus as the prophet who fulfills prophecy in exact detail, down to the specific donkey in the specific village at just the right time. That same precision of future wisdom applies to my life. You are not overwhelmed by my uncertainties. You are not surprised by my circumstances. You know the details. I bring You the specific things I'm facing right now with confidence that they are in your knowing hands. Give me the peace and confidence that comes from trusting the God of prophetic detail with the specifics of my uncertain life. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Through The Bible in a Year - July 1, 2026

"And when they came to the crowd, a man came up to him and, kneeling before him, said, 'Lord, have mercy on my son, for he has seizures and he suffers terribly. For often he falls into the fire, and often into the water... And Jesus rebuked the demon, and it came out of him, and the boy was healed instantly." - Matthew 17:14-18

Jesus and his disciples came down from the mountain of Transfiguration—from blazing glory, from Moses and Elijah, from the voice of God—and walked straight into a father's desperate grief.

"Lord, have mercy on my son. He has seizures and he suffers terribly. He falls into fire and water. I can't fix this."

There was no gradual transition from the transcendent to the urgent. One moment: the overwhelming glory of the Transfiguration. The next moment: a desperate father and a suffering child in the valley.

The jarring transitions were not an impediment to Jesus’s heart. He healed the boy instantly.

The God of the mountain is also the God of the valley.

I once rafted the length of the Grand Canyon. We started the journey hiking down from the rim of the canyon. The view from the rim was staggering—a chasm 20 miles wide, a mile deep, with red rock blazing in low humidity clarity. Then we got to the river at the bottom of the canyon and began to raft, discovering other staggering realities. When our raft reached Lava Falls, we faced 30-foot waves, a dogleg turn that could plaster you against a rock wall, and fear. Suddenly, the God of the rim wasn't enough. We needed the God of the raft. The one who would be present in this specific set of rapids, in this specific danger, and at this specific time – right now.

This is why the Transfiguration matters for everyday life. The mountain view, with its revelation of God’s incredible plan, persevering grace, and overwhelming glory—isn't just for our meditation from the spiritual heights of a comfortable Sunday. It's the foundation for surviving Monday, and the rough waters of all the days that follow.

Once you know the God of the rim, you can trust the God of the raft.

When you've seen God orchestrate thousands of years of history to put Moses and Elijah on a mountain beside His transfigured Son—when you know that plan was written before the foundation of the world and includes you specifically—then when your fears come, when the rapids hit, when the waves threaten to take your faith underwater, then you can still trust and hold onto the One who is both on the canyon rim and in the raft with you.

You're not calling to a distant deity who set things in motion and walked away. You're calling to the God who touched three terrified disciples with the encouragement to "Rise. Have no fear." You are also calling to the God who came down from the mountain to comfort a despairing father and heal a desperate child.

Jesus came down from the mountain then. He will come into your raft now.

Respond: What rapids are you navigating right now? What situation is threatening to take you or someone you love under the water because the waves seem too big to navigate?

The God who blazed like the sun on the mountain is the same God who stepped off that mountain to heal a suffering child instantly when a desperate father fell to his knees.

He is not too majestic to enter the raft of your fears. He is not too transcendent to ignore your rapids. He came all the way from glory, and walked down the mountain that showed his glory, to help a father who couldn't fix his son's seizures.

This week, bring your specific rapids to Him—the crises or worries that are that are threatening to overturn everything. Tell Jesus exactly what the father told Him: "Lord, have mercy. He suffers terribly. I can't fix this." Then trust the God of the rim to get into your raft and help you.

Prayer: Lord, I am grateful for the view from the rim—the grand sweep of Your plan, the blazing glory of Your Son, the incredible promise that You are working all things together for good. But there are times when I'm not on the rim. I'm navigating the rapids. Then, I understand that I can't power through my problems on my own. The waves are too big, the current too strong. I need the God of the raft, not just the God of the rim. Thank you for showing that you are that God because Jesus came down from the mountain to heal a boy instantly when his desperate father knelt before You. I'm kneeling. Have mercy. Get in my raft. Take me through. In Jesus' name, Amen.

Through The Bible in a Year - June 30, 2026

"When the disciples heard this, they fell on their faces and were terrified. But Jesus came and touched them, saying, 'Rise and have no fear.' And when they lifted up their eyes, they saw no one but Jesus only." - Matthew 17:6-8

The disciples saw Moses and Elijah. They heard the voice of God from the cloud. And they fell on their faces in terror.

And then Jesus did something breathtaking in its simplicity. He came to them. He touched them. And He said, "Rise and have no fear."

The Lord of glory—transfigured, blazing like the sun, the One Moses and Elijah came to affirm—stepped away from that display of overwhelming divine majesty and reached down to touch three terrified men lying face down in the dirt.

And then they looked up and saw "no one but Jesus only."

Not the blazing transfiguration. Not Moses. Not Elijah. Not the cloud. Just Jesus—standing with them, having touched them and comforted them in their fears.

"Do not fear" is probably the most repeated command in all of Scripture. It traces the entire story of God's relationship with humanity:

In the garden, Adam and Eve sinned and hid because they were afraid. Then God promised a Redeemer to calm their fears and ours.

From that moment forward, the command not to fear gets repeated over and over: the angels say it, the prophets say it, God says it through Moses and Joshua and David and Isaiah and Jeremiah. Every major turning point in the Bible is marked by God’s comforting assurance: "Do not fear."

The angel to Mary: "Do not fear." To Joseph: "Do not fear." To the shepherds: "Do not fear." And after the resurrection, when Jesus appears to His disciples, he says, "Do not fear."

The message from beginning to end is the same: you have a Redeemer. You have One who stood before the Father to bear the penalty of your sin, who still intercedes for you, who will always provide a way of grace for you. Therefore do not fear.

And notice: after Jesus touched the disciples, who were face down in the dust, they looked up, and they saw no one but Jesus only. This is the gospel in five words: “No one but Jesus only.” Don't look at your performance. Don't look at your competence. Don't look at your background or your failures or what others think. Your hope is in no one but Jesus only.

Respond: What fear is paralyzing you right now? What has caused you to fall face down in terror—a diagnosis, a relationship, a financial situation, an uncertain future, a persistent sin, a looming consequence?

Jesus is coming to you in that moment. He is reaching down to touch you. And He is saying: "Rise and have no fear."

This week, practice lifting your eyes to see "no one but Jesus only." When fear rises, don't look at the size of the wave, the scope of the problem, or the severity of the situation. Look at Jesus only. He is present. He has touched you by his present Holy Spirit. He says: “Rise and do not fear.”

Prayer: Father, so many things in my life tempt me to fall face down in fear. I fear the loss of what I have. I fear the uncertainties of the future. I fear the consequences of my sin. Sometimes my fears feel overwhelming, and I can’t seem to rise above them. But You sent the One who came to terrified disciples, touched them, and said, "Rise and have no fear." Give me faith to believe that Jesus will come to me in this moment by the truths of your Word and the presence of your Holy Spirit. Let Jesus touch me. Let me hear His words of comfort. Help me lift my eyes to see no one but Jesus only. Not my circumstances. Not my failures. Not my fears. Only Him. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Through The Bible in a Year - June 29, 2026

"He was transfigured before them, and his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became white as light... a bright cloud overshadowed them, and a voice from the cloud said, 'This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased. Listen to him!'" - Matthew 17:2, 5

When Moses came down from Mount Sinai after receiving the Ten Commandments, his face shone so brightly that the Israelites were afraid to look at him. He had to veil his face when speaking to the people.

But there is a crucial difference between Moses' shining face and the shining face of the transfigured Jesus.

The shining on Moses' face was a reflection—like the moon reflecting the sun. He had been in the presence of God's glory, and some of it clung to him. But it was borrowed light. It would fade.

Jesus' glory in this passage comes from within Himself. His face shone like the sun—not reflecting light, but generating it. He wasn't simply near a source of divine glory. He was the source. The divine had come down, and the veil of His humanity was momentarily pulled back to reveal the eternal glory that had always been his.

And then the voice from the cloud settled it: "This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased. Listen to Him."

Not "listen to Moses." Not "listen to Elijah." Not "listen to your traditions or the record of your performance or the voices of your own wisdom." Listen to Him – Jesus.

The impetuous Peter, who had witnessed the transfiguration began talking about building three tabernacles—one for Jesus, one for Moses, one for Elijah—as if to make them equal objects of worship. But God interrupted him mid-sentence: "Stop. This is My Son. Listen to Him."

We are often tempted to do what Peter did. We want to consult culture, tradition, our heroes, our own reasoning, what our parents said, what our peers think. Yet, when are hearts are open to God, He keeps interrupting with a simple and strong instruction: "Listen to Him."

Jesus is not one voice among many. He is the voice. The light that reveals his divine nature is not from impressive human leaders, from religious traditions, or from our own ingenuity. The voice that we are most to consider comes from Jesus—and from Jesus alone.

Respond: What other voices are competing with Jesus' voice in your life right now? Whose instructions, whose opinions, whose version of what's right and acceptable are you following alongside—or instead of—His?

The Father made it unmistakably clear on that mountain: "Listen to Him.” The voice of Jesus revealed in the truths of God’s Word is the voice that we are most to hear and heed.

This week, identify one area of your life where you've been listening to something else more than to Jesus. Then deliberately shine the light of God’s Word on that situation and ask: what does Jesus say about this? What does listening to Him require of me?

We don’t need multiple tabernacles to hear multiple voices telling us what God wants. We need just one voice, and God has provided it through Jesus. Listen to Him.

Prayer: Lord, I confess how easy it is to want to build multiple tabernacles—giving other voices equal or greater authority in my life than Your voice. Culture, comfort, comparison, convention—so many other voices compete for my attention. But the Father gave clear instructions: "Listen to Him." Jesus is not to be one voice among many. He is the Son of the living God, the light that doesn't borrow from another source. Father, help me listen to Him. Drown out the competing voices. Let Your Word be the final word in my life. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Through The Bible in a Year - June 26, 2026

"And behold, there appeared to them Moses and Elijah, talking with him." - Matthew 17:3

When was the last time we saw Moses before this moment?

He had led Israel through the wilderness for 40 years. But at the end, in a moment of exhaustion and anger, he struck a rock and claimed God's power as his own. God's verdict: "Because you claimed My status for yourself, you cannot take My people into the Promised Land. It would not be good for my people or for you to believe that you are their Messiah." So, the last image we have of Moses is a solitary figure walking away, disgraced, dying alone in the mountains—his burial place unknown to anyone.

When was the last time we saw Elijah?

He had just called down fire from heaven on Mount Carmel and defeated 450 prophets of Baal. A moment of supreme faith and power. And then Queen Jezebel threatened him, and he fled into the desert in terror—the greatest prophet in Israel's history, hiding under a bush, asking God to let him die. He was consumed by cowardice and despair immediately after God had granted the prophet’s greatest triumph.

And yet—almost 1,500 years after Moses' disgrace, and 900 years after Elijah's cowardice—both of them stand on a mountain in the Promised Land, affirming the glory of God's Son.

What is God saying by bringing these two men back?

"Their sin, weakness, and failings are not the final chapter."

Moses couldn't enter the Promised Land in life. But he stands in it now, in glory, beside the Redeemer he spent his ministry pointing toward.

Elijah ran from his calling in cowardice. But he stands now on a mountain top, fully restored, declaring the One all his prophecies foretold.

God is writing this large on the mountain rim of history so we can see it from the valley of our lives: if He can still use Moses, if He can still redeem Elijah, if their failure wasn't their final chapter—then your sin need not be the final chapter of your life either.

So, go ahead and ask your hard questions in light of what happened on that mountain top: "God, if you still had a plan for Moses, if you could still use Elijah—do You still have a plan for me? Can You still use me? Will You yet forgive me?"

The answer blazing from the mountain on which Moses and Elijah stood is – Yes!

Respond: What failure are you convinced disqualifies you from God's plan? What sin, what cowardice, what moment of pride or weakness feels like it has written your final chapter?

Remember Moses and Elijah. Both appeared on the mountain with Jesus. Despite their failures, Jesus received them and used them to make his glory known.

Your failure is not the final word. God's grace is.

This week, bring your specific failures to God—not to explain them away or justify them, but to confess them honestly and then receive what the Transfiguration declares: His grace is greater than your greatest failure. Your sin is not your final chapter. He can still use you. He still has a plan for you.

Prayer: Father, I have failed You in ways that feel final to me. Like Moses, I have claimed things for myself that belong to You. Like Elijah, I have run from my calling. I've wondered if You could still use me, still have a plan for me, still forgive me. But then I see Moses and Elijah on that mountain—restored, honored, and used for Your glory. My failure is not my final chapter. Your grace is greater. Do for me what You did for them. In Jesus' name, Amen.

Through The Bible in a Year - June 25, 2026

"After six days Jesus took with him Peter and James and John his brother, and led them up a high mountain by themselves, and he was transfigured before them... And behold, there appeared to them Moses and Elijah, talking with him." - Matthew 17:1-3

Why Moses and Elijah? Of all the people who could appear on that mountain with Jesus, why those two?

Because Moses represents the Law—the entire revelation of God's commands for how His people should live. And Elijah represents the Prophets—the whole tradition of God's messengers who pointed forward to a coming Redeemer. Together, they represent the entire sweep of the Old Testament as it reveals God's unfolding plan to redeem his people.

Moses and Elijah appear not as Jesus’s equals, but as representatives of all that has preceded him and points to Him. He is the fulfillment of everything their ministries anticipated.

When Jesus would later walk with two disciples on the road to Emmaus after His resurrection, Luke tells us about their conversation: "Beginning with Moses and all the Prophets, Jesus explained what was said in all the Scriptures the things concerning Himself." The Transfiguration shows us in image what that conversation explained in words: all of the Bible—every law, every prophet, every promise, every covenant—points here. To Jesus.

This Bible is not a collection of moral fables. It's not a rule book to stay on the right side of God. It's not a magic book of incantations to get God to perform for you.

From beginning to end, it is one story told by God himself: "You are not your Redeemer, but I am sending One. He is My Son, and He will save you from your sin."

Adam and Eve sinned in the garden, and God promised a seed from the woman who would crush Satan's influence. God repeated this promise in various ways to Noah, to Abraham, to Moses, to David, and to the prophets represented by Elijah. Ultimately, the prophets would give remarkably accurate and blessed details of the Redeemer’s coming: what country, what town, what ministry, what death, what ultimate victory.

So, when Jesus stood on a mountain, shining like the sun, with Moses and Elijah beside Him, God was saying to Jesus’s disciples and to us: "This is Him."

A former Muslim who came to faith said something extraordinary about how God’s plan unfolds in Scripture: "I read the Bible and was convinced by how God’s covenant with Abraham kept expanding to include a Redeemer for all nations. That convinced me that the Bible was not about random stories but about a God who had an eternal plan that included me. And that brought me to faith."

The plan is big enough to include you too.

Respond: When you feel like your life is too small, too broken, too insignificant to matter to God—remember the Transfiguration. The God who orchestrated thousands of years of history to point to one moment on one mountain in one obscure corner of the ancient world to make clear the identity of our Redeemer is the same God who has an eternal plan that includes you specifically.

This week, read your Bible not simply as a rule book or a self-help guide, but as a love story that goes across nations and generations to reach you. Ask as you read: How is God pointing to my nature that requires Jesus and God’s nature that will ultimately provide Jesus? How is He showing that you are not your own Redeemer, but He that has prepared One – for you long before you could have known or deserved such care?

The plan has always been for people who do not deserve Him. That includes you and me. And it's a better plan than anything we could devise because it is the ultimate revelation of God’s wisdom and his heart.

Prayer: Lord, thank You that Your plan didn't start with me and doesn't depend on me. From the Garden of Eden to the Mount of Transfiguration, from Moses to Elijah to Jesus, You have been working a plan of redemption for people who do not deserve it. I am one of those people. Help me read Your Word as the story it truly is—one great, unfolding plan that leads to Jesus’s care for me. And help me trust that plan that reveals your wisdom and heart for me. In Jesus' name, Amen.

Through The Bible in a Year - June 24, 2026

"They came to the other side of the sea... And immediately there met him out of the tombs a man with an unclean spirit... And when Jesus had crossed again in the boat to the other side, a great crowd gathered about him, and he was beside the sea. Then came one of the rulers of the synagogue and implored him, saying, “My little daughter is at the point of death…. He took her by the hand and said to her…, 'Little girl, I say to you, arise.' And immediately the girl got up and began walking." - Mark 5:1-2, 21-22, 41-42

In this one chapter, Jesus moves through three completely different worlds.

He crosses the sea and enters the spiritual realm—casting out a legion of demons from a man who had supernatural strength and no peace. The spiritual world is real. The battle for souls is real. And Jesus has authority over all of it.

He returns across the sea and enters the physical realm—healing a woman who had bled for twelve years, restoring her body and her dignity and her place among God's people. The physical world is real. Suffering is real. And Jesus has authority over all of it.

And then He enters the eternal realm—raising a girl who had died, calling her back from the dead with simple words: "Little girl, arise." Death is real and lasting. But Jesus has authority over that too.

Spiritual. Physical. Eternal. Three realms. One Lord over all of them.

Abraham Kuyper spoke memorably about the total authority of our Savior over all the realms of our existence: "There is not one square inch of this universe over which Jesus does not stand and say, 'This is mine.'"

There is not one square inch of your existence – not one corner of your spiritual life; not one part of your physical body; not one moment of your eternal future – that is outside Jesus’s rule and authority. There is not one relationship, one career move, one diagnosis, one struggle, one loss, one moment of your infinite existence as an immortal soul over which our God does not exercise control. He stands over all of it and says, "This is mine."

NFL linebacker Demario Davis was once fined $7,000 for wearing a headband that said "Man of God" during a game. He responded with a faith in his Lord’s rule over everything, even a fine for a headband. He said, "Any time the conversation about God is brought up, especially in these times, it is always a positive. If He can get glory from it, He is in control of the whole situation. God and I are still good."

He is in control of the whole situation. All of it. The spiritual battle you can't see. The physical suffering you can't fix. The eternal purposes you can't fully comprehend. All of it is under the authority and providential care of the King of all realms.

Respond: Which realm feels most out of control to you right now?

Is it a spiritual battle—confusion, deception, a sense of being overwhelmed by forces you can't see or name?

Is it a physical reality—a diagnosis, a body that won't cooperate, a situation that won't resolve no matter how hard you try?

Is it an eternal fear—death, loss, the unknown future, wondering if any of it ultimately matters?

Jesus walked into all three of these realms in Mark 5. He has authority in all three today. Today, take your specific realm of struggle and with the confidence of Mark 5, knowing that Jesus "Has authority here too. He stands over this too. He’s got this."

Prayer: Heavenly Father, you had Jesus cross the Sea of Galilee to demonstrate authority over the spiritual realm, the physical realm, and even death itself. Nothing is outside His authority. Not one square inch our existence. So, I bring to You my specific struggle now, knowing that what is spiritual, or physical, or eternal has been committed to Christ’s care and authority. Help me believe this. He stands over every realm and says, "This is Mine." I trust Him as King of all realms—infinite in power, intimate in care. He is never distant from my reality, but entered it completely for my sake. Bring Christ’s rule over the realms of my struggles. In Jesus name, Amen.

Through The Bible in a Year - June 23, 2026

"There was a woman who had a discharge of blood for twelve years, and who had suffered much under many physicians and spent all that she had, and was no better but rather grew worse... She came up behind him in the crowd and touched his garment… Jesus, perceiving in himself that power had gone out from him, immediately turned about in the crowd and said, 'Who touched my garments?'... And he said to her, 'Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace.'" - Mark 5:25-34

Twelve years. Twelve years of suffering. Twelve years of spending everything on physicians who made her worse. Twelve years of being declared ceremonially unclean—unable to worship, unable to be touched, unable to fully belong anywhere.

She had every reason to give up. She had every reason to believe God had forgotten her, that her suffering was permanent, that she had somehow been left behind in God’s plan of blessing his people.

But she pressed through the crowd, believing: "If I touch even His garments, I will be made well."

And Jesus—on His way to raise a ruler's daughter, surrounded by a pressing crowd, with a thousand urgent things happening—stopped. Turned around. Looked for her specifically. And called her not "woman," but "daughter."

Twelve years of waiting, and He paused for her. Twelve years of being overlooked, and He looked directly at her. Twelve years of isolation, and He called her family.

I remember hearing an unsettling truth told years ago by Pastor David Jeremiah: "If you're a believer and you knew everything God knows about your circumstances—what led to them, what's happening now, and the impact for eternity of how you will handle them—nothing would enter your life that you yourself would not choose if you knew what God knows."

That's a hard word. But the woman with the bleeding didn't just receive healing. She became a witness of the power of Christ for centuries to come. Her twelve years of suffering became the story that has brought eternal hope to millions.

This gospel account is assuring us God has not abandoned us in our-sometimes-long wait to experience the fruit of his plan. God is very good at writing long stories He is not ignoring your struggles over twelve years or, perhaps, many more. He is working in and with and for you—even when you can't see it—for purposes that extend far beyond what you can currently see.

Respond: What is your "twelve years" of struggle? What long, painful situation have you been enduring, spending all your resources on getting better, yet growing worse rather than better?

Press through to Jesus. Reach out and touch the hem of His garment. He will stop in his tracks. He will turn. He will see you specifically—not just the crowd, not just the needs of others—you. And He will call you his child, His very own – supplying what is eternally best for your blessing and His glory.

This week, bring your suffering years to Jesus. Don't dress it up. Just come as this suffering woman came—in the press of the crowd, believing: "If I just touch Him, I will be made well." He has already reached out to touch your soul, and will respond to heart reaching out to Him with what is absolutely best for eternal blessing and divine glory.

Prayer: Heavenly Father, I have been waiting twelve years—or more—to see the blessings of Jesus’s touch in ways that my heart or loved ones are suffering. I have spent so many of my material or spiritual resources trying to fix the problems. But I feel that I am worse, not better. I've wondered if You've forgotten me, if I'm invisible in the crowd. But You made Jesus stop for this suffering woman. He turned to her, really looked at her, and called her his child. So, please turn the heart and power of Jesus toward me. See me in this crowd. Call me Yours. In faith I reach out to You now, trusting that eternal blessings will come from your heart. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Through The Bible in a Year - June 22, 2026

"While he was still speaking, there came from the ruler's house some who said, 'Your daughter is dead. Why trouble the Teacher any further?' But overhearing what they said, Jesus said to the ruler of the synagogue, 'Do not fear, only believe.'" - Mark 5:35-36

Jairus, the synagogue ruler, had done everything right. He had found Jesus. He had humbled himself publicly before the crowd by asking for help from this itinerant rabbi. He had made his request for help from Jesus with faith: "Come lay Your hands on her so that she may be made well and live."

And then came the worst news possible: "Nothing worked. Your daughter is dead. Why trouble the Teacher any further?"

Notice the cruelty of those words. "Why trouble the Teacher any further?" As if the moment that Jesus could help had passed. As if death was the final victor. As if faith was now pointless.

Jesus overheard the servants’ cruel conclusion—and immediately responded with the most important words Jairus would ever hear: "Do not fear, only believe."

Not: "Don't worry, everything will be fine." Not: "I have a plan." Not even: "I can fix this."

Just: "Do not fear. Only believe."

Trust Me. In this moment. With this loss. With this impossible situation believe that your God is greater.

The words "do not fear" run like a thread through the entire Bible. God said it to Abraham, Moses, Joshua, David, Isaiah, Jeremiah. Angels said it to Zechariah, Mary, Joseph, and the shepherds. Jesus said it to His disciples before the cross and after the resurrection.

Many say that these words form the most common command in all of Scripture—because fear is probably the most common human response that accompanies loss, uncertainty, and death.

Yet, into every situation where fear says "it's over, why bother"—Jesus says: "Do not fear. Only believe."

This is not naive optimism. Rather, it is grounded trust in the One who holds every realm—physical, spiritual, and eternal—in His hands.

Respond: What "your daughter is dead" moment are you facing? What situation has someone told you is hopeless, over, beyond God’s help?

Jesus still hears the words of hopelessness spoken over you or erupting in you due to the horror and hurts of your situation. And His response is the same: "Do not fear. Only believe."

This week, try writing down the hopeless report you've been given. And next to it, write Jesus' words: "Do not fear. Only believe." Return to those four words when fear and hopelessness rises in you. They are not a platitude—they are the word of the One who raised the dead.

Prayer: Heavenly Father, when I receive a "your daughter is dead" report, I am tempted to walk away from you as though there is nothing that you can offer to help. The situation feels final. The voices around me are saying "why bother anymore." But Jesus’s response to this grieving father, reminds me of the word from you that is always the same: "Do not fear. Only believe." Give me the faith of Jairus—to keep walking with Jesus toward the peace and provision that seems impossible. I choose not to fear. I choose to believe. In Jesus’ name, Amen.