Ezekiel 37:5 — This is what the Sovereign Lord says: Look! I am going to put breath into you and make you live again!

The church had shrunk so small they started wondering whether it ought to keep going.

It had not always been that way.

There had been a time when the parking lot filled up on Sunday morning, children ran through the hallways, and somebody was always making coffee somewhere. But years have a way of changing things. People moved away. Some got older. Some stopped coming. A few left hurt. Before long, the church had become a handful of faithful folks trying to keep the doors open.

Then one day, somebody came and repossessed the copier.

That may not sound like much, but if you have ever been part of a small church, you know better. A church without a copier is getting pretty close to the end of the road.

They simply couldn’t afford it—or much of anything else anymore.

It felt like a sign that the once-vibrant house of worship should start preparing for its own funeral.

Only God wasn’t finished.

So the people started praying. I mean, really praying.

People who hadn’t been around in years came back. A new pastor arrived. The little congregation began looking outside itself again, serving their neighbors and giving to missions. They stopped asking how to keep the church alive and started asking what they could do with the life they still had.

And little by little, something changed.

That dying church found itself welcoming hundreds of people through its doors. The parking lot filled again. The smell of coffee filled the air. And, more importantly, hungry hearts were beginning to taste the goodness of God there like never before.

That story makes me think of Ezekiel standing in that valley.

God showed him a place covered with bones. Not fresh bones, either. Dry bones. Bones that had been there long enough to make the situation seem completely hopeless.

Then God said, “I am going to put breath into you and make you live again.”

God was showing Ezekiel that what looked completely hopeless to His people was not beyond His power to restore. The dry bones were a picture of Israel, a people who felt like all hope was gone. But God had not forgotten them.

And maybe you need that reminder today.

You may be looking at something you have already buried in your heart—a relationship, a dream, a calling, a church, or even a part of yourself. Maybe it really is beyond what you can repair. But that doesn’t mean it is beyond God.

God may not restore every situation in exactly the way we hope or expect. But nothing is beyond His power, and no situation is beyond His ability to bring purpose, hope, and new life.

Friend, it may feel finished, but God hasn’t forgotten you.

What looks like a grave to us can still become a garden.

 


A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • What situation in your life feels hopeless or “too far gone” right now? Have you brought it honestly to God?
  • Where have you been tempted to decide that something is finished before God has finished His work?
  • What would it look like to stop asking, “How do I keep this alive?” and instead ask, “God, what do You want me to do with the life You’ve given me?”
  • How does Ezekiel 37 remind you that God’s power is greater than what you can see or understand right now?
  • Where might God be inviting you to pray, serve, or take a step of faith even before you see the outcome?

L Y R I C S

I searched the world
But it couldn’t fill me
Man’s empty praise
and treasures that fade
Are never enough

Then You came along
And put me back together
And every desire is now satisfied
Here in Your love

Oh there’s nothing better than You
There’s nothing better than You
Lord there’s nothing, nothing is better
than You

I’m not afraid
To show You my weakness
My failures and flaws
Lord You’ve seen them all
And You still call me friend

‘Cause the God of the mountain
Is the God of the valley
There’s not a place
Your mercy and grace
Won’t find me again

You turn mourning to dancing
You give beauty for ashes
You turn shame into glory
You’re the only one who can

You turn graves into gardens
You turn bones into armies
You turn seas into highways
You’re the only one who can
You’re the only one who can

Written by Steven Furtick, Chris Brown, Tiffany Hammer, Brandon Lake

Matthew 11:28-30 — Then Jesus said, “Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light.”

I remember ninth-grade me marching around that astroturf field.

Yep. You guessed it. I was a band kid.

I played all through high school, and my instrument of choice might surprise you. Wrapped around me was a sousaphone—a tuba you wear while you march. And if you’ve ever seen one up close, you know one thing: that thing is heavy.

Band was great. It gave me a community, something to do on Friday nights, and the biggest locker in school.

But there was one unavoidable reality: heaviness.

The fine print should have said: “Must be willing to carry 35 pounds of metal on your shoulder for hours. Rest breaks may or may not be included.”

Eventually, my body adjusted. My muscles got stronger, and I stopped noticing the weight quite as much.

But that didn’t mean it wasn’t still heavy.

Life can be like that, too. Sometimes the things we’re carrying are good things—our families, our jobs, our responsibilities, the people we love. They’re gifts. But even good gifts can become heavy when we’ve been carrying them for too long.

That’s why I love Jesus’ invitation in Matthew 11. He doesn’t say, “Try harder.” He says, “Come to me.”

Bring Him the burden. Bring Him the weariness. Bring Him the things you’ve gotten so used to carrying that you’ve almost forgotten they’re heavy.

Jesus never asked us to carry life’s weight alone. And when we bring Him what we’re carrying—even the good things—we discover the rest He promises: not necessarily a life without responsibility, but a soul that doesn’t have to carry it alone.

 


A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • What are you carrying right now that has become heavier than you realized?
  • Is there a “good thing” in your life that you need to bring to Jesus instead of carrying by yourself?
  • What would it look like today to actually respond to Jesus’ invitation: “Come to me?”

2 Timothy 1:7 — For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind.

Do you ever miss those back-to-school days?

I never liked summer ending, but I loved the feeling that maybe this year would be different. There was something about picking out a new backpack, fresh notebooks, and school clothes that made a new year feel full of possibility.

It came with that hold-your-breath feeling. You didn’t know who your teachers would be, what your classes would be like, or what it would feel like to suddenly be another grade older.

But alongside all that excitement came something I was never too fond of.

Icebreakers.

You know the ones. The teacher would always ask you to do some variation of a get-to-know-you game.

“Stand up and tell the class your name, one fun fact about yourself, and your favorite color.”

It always felt like nails on a chalkboard.

Don’t people know public speaking is one of our biggest fears? Yet there we were, subjected to it as thirteen-year-olds.

It was like they wanted our formative years to be painful.

But, again, I understand the other side too. Later in life, I became a teacher, and I realized these things were helping students learn how to step outside their comfort zones.

So what really is the difference between that giddy expectation you felt in the backpack aisle and those icebreakers that made you want to disappear?

I think the difference is where our attention is.

We stop wondering what might happen right and start worrying about what could go wrong.

Fear turns our eyes inward.

We start thinking about how we’ll look, what people will think, and everything that could go wrong.

But God invites us to look somewhere else.

“God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind.”

That doesn’t mean uncertainty disappears. It means fear doesn’t have to be the voice directing us through it.

God gives us power to take the next step, love that moves our attention beyond ourselves, and a sound mind that helps us remember what’s actually true.

When we trust Him with uncertainty instead of clinging to anxiety, hope has room to grow.

So today, instead of asking, “What if I fail?” ask, “What might God do if I simply trust Him?”

And here’s something comforting: while you’re worried about how everyone else sees you, God has never once taken His eyes off you.

You don’t have to face what’s next alone.

You can walk into it with power, love, and a sound mind because the God who goes before you is already there.

 


A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • What situation tends to make you focus more on what could go wrong?
  • Which part of 2 Timothy 1:7 do you need most right now—power, love, or a sound mind?
  • How does fear change the way you see yourself or the people around you?
  • What would trusting God look like in the uncertain situation you’re facing?
  • Instead of asking, “What if I fail?”, what might God be inviting you to ask?

Psalm 71:19 — Your righteousness, O God, reaches to the highest heavens. You have done such wonderful things. Who can compare with you, O God?

Do you ever have days where reality taps you on the shoulder before your first cup of coffee? You still have prayers without answers, things you can’t make right, and people you don’t know how to help.

That’s probably why Lauren Daigle’s song “O’ Lord” gets me every time.

It doesn’t pretend life is easy. It doesn’t deny the hurt or rush past the waiting. Instead, it makes one steady declaration: “I know You hear my cry… You’ll take all that is wrong and make it right.”

I need that reminder because my first instinct is usually to try fixing what’s broken. I want to solve the problem, rescue the person, or carry the weight myself. But there are moments when we discover our greatest strength isn’t having all the answers. It’s knowing where to bring the questions.

The psalmist looked at God’s faithfulness and declared that His righteousness reaches to the highest heavens. Then he asked, “Who can compare with You, O God?” The implied answer is simple: no one.

That’s where hope begins.

The size of your hope is often determined by the size of your view of God.

So maybe nothing changes by sunset today. The diagnosis may still be there. The relationship may still need healing. The prayer may still feel unanswered. But whatever you’re facing isn’t bigger than the God you’re facing it with.

Today, tell God exactly what feels wrong. Then leave it in His hands. Just like Daigle’s song reminds us, trust the One whose goodness reaches higher than you can imagine. He is still writing the story, and He has a way of making things right.

 


A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • What burden have you been trying to carry or fix on your own instead of placing in God’s hands?
  • How does remembering God’s greatness and faithfulness change the way you view your current situation?
  • What is one unanswered prayer you can choose to trust God with today?

L Y R I C S:

Though times it seems
Like I’m coming undone
This walk can often feel lonely
No matter what until this race is won
I will stand my ground where hope can be found
I will stand my ground where hope can be found

Oh, O’Lord O’Lord I know You hear my cry
Your love is lifting me above all the lies
No matter what I face this I know in time
You’ll take all that is wrong and make it right
You’ll take all that is wrong and make it right

Your strength is found
At the end of my road
Your grace it reaches to the hurting
Still through the tears and the questioning why
I will stand my ground where hope can be found
I will stand my ground where hope can be found

Oh, O’Lord O’Lord I know You hear my cry
Your love is lifting me above all the lies
No matter what I face This I know in time
You’ll take all that is wrong and make it right
You’ll take all that is wrong and make it right
(Right, so right)
Make it right
(Right, so right)
Make it right, right

I will stand my ground
I will stand my ground

I will stand my ground where hope can be found
I will stand my ground where hope can be found

Oh! O’Lord O’Lord I know You hear my cry
Your love is lifting me above all the lies
No matter what I face this I know in time
You’ll take all that is wrong and make it right (take all what is wrong)
You’ll take all that is wrong and make it right
(Right, so right)
Make it right
(Right, so right)
Make it right, right

Matthew 16:24 — Then Jesus said to his disciples, “If any of you wants to be my follower, you must give up your own way, take up your cross, and follow me.

I used to think spiritual growth would feel more dramatic.

Like I’d wake up one morning with more discipline.

More courage.

More patience.

More faith.

Instead, most growth has felt painfully ordinary.

It’s choosing my words carefully when I’m frustrated.

It’s showing up when I’d rather stay home.

It’s taking the next faithful step when I can’t see the next ten.

If I’m honest, that’s a little disappointing.

I like breakthroughs.

But God often works through processes.

Maybe that’s why Jesus didn’t simply call people to believe in Him.

He called them to follow Him.

And following Jesus has always been a daily decision.

He said, “If any of you wants to be My follower, you must give up your own way, take up your cross, and follow Me.”

That’s not just one big moment of surrender.

It’s a thousand small ones.

Maybe that’s why Peter encourages me so much.

He was always running into his own limitations.

Sometimes everyone could see them.

Sometimes only Jesus could.

Yet Jesus never seemed discouraged by Peter’s weaknesses.

He simply kept calling him forward…

After failure.

After fear.

After misunderstanding.

That’s the way God works.

He rarely changes us all at once.

He shapes us one faithful step at a time.

The goal isn’t perfection overnight.

It’s transformation over time.

That’s good news for people like us.

We know where we’re inconsistent.

We know where we’re still growing.

But the Gospel isn’t the story of capable people impressing God.

It’s the story of a faithful Savior transforming willing people who keep saying “yes.”

So instead of focusing on all the ways you wish you were different…

Ask yourself one simple question:

What’s the next faithful step Jesus is asking me to take?

Then take it.

Because every act of surrender is another step toward becoming more like Him.

 


A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • What is one area of your life where Jesus is asking you to surrender your own way and follow His?
  • Instead of focusing on how far you have to go, what is the next faithful step you can take today?
  • How have you seen God use ordinary, everyday obedience to shape your character over time?

Joel 2:13 — Return to the Lord your God, for he is merciful and compassionate, slow to get angry and filled with unfailing love. He is eager to relent and not punish.

Have you ever noticed how quickly the best news in your life can turn ordinary?

The promotion. The wedding day. The birth of a child. At first, it changes everything. Then, over time, it becomes part of the wallpaper.

I think that’s what can happen with the Gospel. It’s easy to wake up carrying burdens and forget that Jesus already carried them. We forget that the story of Jesus isn’t just about getting into heaven someday. It’s about being brought from death to life today.

That’s why I love the song “Running Back To You” by Seph Schlueter. At its heart, it’s a modern retelling of the Prodigal Son story. You know the one.

A son wanders away. A father watches and waits for his son to come home. And when the son finally turns around, he discovers something shocking: the father is still glad to see him.

He’s not tolerant.

Not reluctant.

Glad. 

The son had rehearsed his apology, but the father prepared a celebration. The son came home ashamed, but the father met him with love.

That sounds a lot like how God is described by the prophet Joel. He is the God who is gracious, compassionate, slow to anger, and overflowing with faithful love. That’s the Father the prodigal ran toward. And that’s the Father we can run to today.

And maybe that’s what makes repentance so beautiful. It’s not crawling back to a disappointed Father. It’s running back to love.

The Gospel is the best news ever. It announces that Jesus has already done what we never could. What sin separated, Jesus restored. What death claimed, Jesus conquered.

It only becomes ordinary when we forget what it rescued us from.

So today, remember. Remember the chains He broke. Remember the life He gave. Remember the Father who still watches the road for His children to come home.

And if you’ve wandered, even a little, you can still turn around.

You’ll find Him exactly where He’s always been. Waiting with arms wide open.

 


A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • Have you allowed the good news of the Gospel to become familiar instead of life-changing? What helps you remember what Jesus has done for you?
  • Is there an area of your life where God is inviting you to return to Him today?
  • How does knowing that God is merciful, compassionate, and full of unfailing love change the way you think about repentance?

L Y R I C S

(Oh-oh-oh-oh)
(Oh-oh-oh-oh)

I was an orphan
Defined by mistakes
Thought I was forsaken
That You gave up the chase
I went to the reaches
To try and ease the ache
Turned my back on the One
Who kept calling my name
You kept calling

Didn’t matter where I was at
You just kept calling me back

Back to the table
Back to my home
Back to my Father who never lost hope
For the first time in ages
I know what to do
With my arms wide open I’m running to back to You

(Oh-oh-oh-oh)
I’m running to back to You
(Oh-oh-oh-oh)

Now I have been rescued
My soul is remade
But even the ransomed
Can fall on their face
When I’m drowning in questions
When I’ve lost the path
Your love is the answer
You’re calling me back

Back to the table
Back to my home
Back to my Father who never lets go
Whatever I’m facing
I know what to do
With my arms wide open I’m running to back to you

(Oh-oh-oh-oh)
I’m running to back to You
(Oh-oh-oh-oh)

It doesn’t matter all the times where I’ve been in over my head
I’m never too far gone where Your arms cannot pull me back again
I’m never been so lost where Your love could not fill my emptiness
I’m never too far gone where Your arms cannot pull me back again

Back to the table
Back to my home
Back to my Father who never lets go
Whatever I’m facing
I know what to do
With my arms wide open I’m running to back to you
Back to the table
Back to my home
Back to my Father who never lost hope
For the first time in ages
I know what to do
With my arms wide open I’m running to back to you

(Oh-oh-oh-oh)
I’m running to back to You
(Oh-oh-oh-oh)
I’m running to back to You
(Oh-oh-oh-oh) Oh-oh-oh-oh
I’m running back to You
(Oh-oh-oh-oh)
I’m running to back to You

Songwriters: Seph Schlueter and Jacob Sooter

Joshua 24:15 — If serving the Lord seems undesirable to you, then choose for yourselves this day whom you will serve, whether the gods your ancestors served beyond the Euphrates, or the gods of the Amorites, in whose land you are living. But as for me and my household, we will serve the Lord.

When I was growing up, summertime had one speed: wide open.

My friends and I rode our bikes, chased lightning bugs, drank from the water hose, and then barreled back into the house like we owned the place. Five minutes later, we’d head right back outside.

And I can still hear my mom when she’d finally reach her limit.

“Either in or out! You’re letting all the cool air out!”

I know you can relate.

Back then, she was talking about the electric bill.

But looking back, I think she was teaching me something bigger.

Life requires commitment.

Because a lot of us still live standing in the doorway.

One foot in.

One foot out.

Partly committed.

Partly surrendered.

We want God, but we also want our own way. We want His peace without fully trusting Him. His leadership without giving Him control.

But eventually, every heart has to decide where it’s going to live.

Joshua stood before the people of Israel and gave them that very choice: “Choose this day whom you will serve.” Then he declared, “As for me and my household, we will serve the Lord.”

God still gives us that same dignity today.

He doesn’t force His way into our lives.

He invites us.

And every day, through the choices we make, we’re answering the question of who we’re going to follow and what kind of life we’re going to build.

The decisions that shape your future are usually the ones you make today.

So if you’ve been standing in the doorway spiritually, maybe today is the day to step fully in.

Not someday.

Today.

Choose whom you will serve.

And as for me?

I’m all in.

 


A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • Is there an area of your life where you’ve been “standing in the doorway” instead of fully surrendering to God?
  • What does Joshua’s challenge to “choose this day whom you will serve” mean for your life today—not someday?
  • What is one practical step you can take this week to live more fully committed to following Christ?

Psalms 103:2-4 — Let all that I am praise the LORD; may I never forget the good things He does for me. He forgives all my sins and heals all my diseases. He redeems me from death and crowns me with love and tender mercies.

Have you ever driven through a construction zone and thought, This is such a mess. Who planned this?

Lanes suddenly shift. Orange barrels are everywhere. Traffic slows to a crawl. Dust is flying, and nothing looks finished. Then you come back six months later, and there’s a new road, fresh pavement, and a bridge where there wasn’t one before.

Suddenly, the mess starts making sense.

Peter Burton’s song “Where Would I Be” comes from a deeply personal place, and it reminds me of that kind of roadwork. He has talked openly about his struggles with mental health and how God walked with him through every step of recovery.

He calls the song his testimony—a reminder that Jesus changes everything, and even in the mess, God is still at work.

Maybe that’s why the song hits home for so many people.

It’s your testimony and mine too.

We all have chapters we’d rather skip. Seasons where you felt buried under shame. Choices you wish you could erase. Anxiety, fear, bitterness you didn’t know how to shake.

But then Jesus steps into the mess. He starts breaking ground, healing hearts, doing a deep work in us. And one day you look back and barely recognize who you used to be.

He’s that good.

He’s the God who forgives all your sins, heals your diseases, redeems your life from destruction, and crowns you with love and tender mercies. Don’t forget that.

Because those moments that felt like falling apart were often the very places God was quietly rebuilding you.

And somewhere along the way, you may find yourself asking what Peter Burton asks in the song:

“Where would I be? Where would I be if it wasn’t for the love of God?”

…and honestly, thank God we’ll never know.

 


A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • What “construction zone” season of your life can you only now see God was working through?
  • Where do you need to remember (not just believe, but remember) that God has forgiven, healed, and redeemed you?
  • Is there a part of your story you tend to skip over or feel ashamed of—how might God be inviting you to see it differently?
  • How has your testimony changed as you’ve looked back and recognized God’s presence in the middle of the mess?
  • Who in your life might need to hear your story of how God met you in a difficult season?

Lyrics:

Standing where I stand now
I know that He’s the reason
I almost can’t believe it

Every wrong turn He turned around
and I can just imagine
If it didn’t happen
How it happened

Oh
Seeing how good He’s been to me
Oh
I can’t help but think

Where would I be if I didn’t have Jesus
Pulling me outta that grave
Where would I be if I didn’t have mercy
Pulling me away from my ways
I’d probably crash and burn
Stay stuck down in that dirt
Like a prodigal running from home
Where would I be if I didn’t have Jesus
Thank God, thank God, thank God
I’ll never know

I used to feel the weight
Of the chains that I was holding
Til my savior came and broke em

I used to walk with shame
I was living at a loss
Til he settled up my cost
At the cross

Oh
Giving His life so I could live
Oh
Didn’t leave me where I’ve been

Where would I be if I didn’t have Jesus
Pulling me outta that grave
Where would I be if I didn’t have mercy
Pulling me away from my ways
I’d probably crash and burn
Stay stuck down in that dirt
Like a prodigal running from home
Where would I be if I didn’t have Jesus
Thank God, thank God, thank God
I’ll never know

Thank God
I’ll never know

Where would I be if I didn’t have Jesus
Pulling me outta that grave
Where would I be if I didn’t have mercy
Pulling me away from my ways
I’d probably crash and burn
Stay stuck down in that dirt
Like a prodigal running from home
Where would I be if I didn’t have Jesus
Thank God, thank God, thank God
I’ll never know

Thank God
I’ll never know
Thank God
I’ll never know

Written by Peter Burton, Matt Armstrong, AJ Pruis

1 Peter 4:10 — God has given each of you a gift from His great variety of spiritual gifts. Use them well to serve one another.

I still think about those backyard trampoline days. They were something else.

The neighborhood kids would come over, and before long we were making up games or playing classics like “crack the egg”—you know, the one where everyone bounces around trying to get someone tucked into a roll.

But if I had to pick a favorite part of those afternoons, nothing beat the feeling of getting “double bounced.”

You know what I’m talking about.

Because at just the right moment, your bounce would meet your friend’s bounce, and suddenly you were flying twice as high. It felt like you could touch the sky.

Now, if you were the friend doing the bouncing, it didn’t feel quite as magical. Your timing had to be right, your legs took the strain, and your own jump got interrupted. You were absorbing impact so someone else could go soaring.

But it worked because you knew the rhythm would shift. At some point, it would be your turn to rise.

And then there were days when no one was outside. No games. No timing. No lift. Just me jumping alone—no rhythm, just effort.

And honestly, that’s where life can start to feel like too.

We start believing we’re meant to do everything on our own.

“Me and Jesus, that’s all I need.”

But Scripture paints a fuller picture than that.

That’s what Peter is talking about here. God has given each of us gifts—not for isolation, but for building one another up.

Life with God was never designed to be solo jumps in an empty yard. It was designed for community, where what He placed in you strengthens someone else, and what He placed in them strengthens you.

Because if we’re honest, living alone can start to feel like that solo jump—no rhythm, no lift, just effort. But God never intended us to stay there.

So stay in community.

Because in God’s design, no one was meant to jump alone.

And sometimes, the very thing you need is someone willing to help you rise again… and sometimes, you’re the one God is calling to lift someone else.


A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • Where in your life are you trying to “jump alone” instead of leaning into community?
  • Who has God used to “lift you higher” spiritually, emotionally, or practically?
  • What gift has God placed in you that could strengthen someone else right now?
  • Are you more comfortable being lifted—or being the one who lifts others?
  • How might God be inviting you to participate in someone else’s growth this week?

Ephesians 6:18 — Pray in the Spirit at all times and on every occasion. Stay alert and be persistent in your prayers for all believers everywhere.

Summertime, 2012. I’m sitting high in a metal chair by the pool, whistle at my chest, and the sun is beaming down.

It’s amazing what it took to get here.

See, I came here as a college dreamer, ten weeks ago. I felt like the Lord was leading me to serving at a summer camp as a camp counselor, and becoming a certified lifeguard came as part of the job.

They trained us hard.

Long days. Sore muscles. Drill after drill. They taught us how to perform rescues and how to scan the water—always attentive, always ready.

Now I’m here, watching a pool full of kids laughing and water splashing.

This day is uneventful, and I’m thankful for that. But I know I have to stay attentive. Because the real danger could come at a moment’s notice.

Isn’t that a lot like the Christian life?

Most days aren’t dramatic. There’s no obvious crisis. Life hums along, steady and predictable. And that’s exactly why it’s easy to let our guard down spiritually. We stop paying attention. We miss the needs right in front of us, or we aren’t prepared when challenges suddenly surface.

And just like that lifeguard chair, there’s a kind of watchfulness we’re invited into.

To live on purpose. To stay awake.

And believe it or not, that’s only made possible through prayer. That’s your training ground. Praying in the Spirit is how you stay sharp and connected to the heartbeat of Heaven. It’s how you learn to recognize God’s voice, notice the needs of others, and remain ready for whatever He places in front of you.

Because long before you ever need to jump in, you’ve already been watching.

Maybe today isn’t dramatic. Maybe nothing feels urgent. But what if this is your chair? What if this is your moment to stay awake in prayer—ready for whatever rises to the surface, ready for whoever needs you to notice?

 


A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • What distractions tend to pull your attention away from prayer?
  • How would you describe your current level of spiritual alertness?
  • Is there someone in your life who may need prayer or encouragement right now?
  • What does “praying in the Spirit at all times” look like in your daily routine?
  • How can you become more attentive to what God is doing around you this week?