September 25 — "Called. Chosen. Clothed."

Today's Reading: Matthew 22:1-22

God’s invitation to salvation is gloriously wide—but let’s be honest, not everyone responds.

Jesus said, “For many are called, but few are chosen.” That line wraps up His parable of the wedding feast, where the original invitees refused to come. So the King extended the invitation to others—good, bad, and everything in between. The call went out broadly, but only those properly dressed were allowed to stay.

In ancient Jewish weddings, kings often provided garments for their guests. These weren’t optional—they signified honor, acceptance, and alignment with the host’s generosity. Refusing the garment was a bold insult. Showing up without it? A defiant rejection of the King’s way. In Jesus’ story, no one who sincerely wanted to come the King’s way was turned away. Those excluded either rejected the invitation outright or tried to enter on their own terms—without the garment.

The “chosen” aren’t a lucky few. They’re the ones who heard the call, responded with humility, and received the King's robe. Scripture affirms this open invitation again and again:

• John 3:16 – “Whosoever believes in Him”

• Acts 2:21 & Romans 10:13 – “Whosoever shall call on the name of the Lord shall be saved”

• Titus 2:11 – “The grace of God has appeared… to all people”

• 1 Timothy 2:4 – “[God] desires all people to be saved”

• Revelation 22:17 – “Whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely”

Today, that invitation still goes out through the preaching of the Gospel. Many hear it. But not all respond. Some ignore it. Others resist it. And some try to come clothed in religion or good works—not in Christ’s righteousness.

So don’t shrug off God’s call. If you’ve heard the Gospel, respond with faith. Don’t assume proximity to church, or knowledge of the Bible, or being a "good" person is enough. Put on the King's garment—the righteousness of Christ offered freely to all will accept it. Trust His finished work, walk with Him daily, and let His Spirit shape your life.

Today, may the Lord clothe you in His righteousness, stir your heart to say “yes,” and fill you with joyful anticipation for the wedding feast of the Lamb. 

September 24 — "Have You Never Read?"

Today's Reading: Matthew 21:23-46

Jesus had a way of cutting through the noise, exposing the stark difference between knowing words about God and truly knowing the God of the Word. In Matthew 21, He challenges the religious leaders, saying that if they had truly grasped Psalm 118:22-23, they’d recognize what God was doing right in front of their faces. Right there. No mistaking it.

Throughout His ministry, Jesus kept circling back to one soul-piercing question: Have you not read? He wasn’t trying to shame them—He was trying to wake them up. Their issue wasn’t access to Scripture; it was a lack of understanding and obedience. They could quote verses like pros, yet they missed the Cornerstone Himself—standing right in front of them.

In the ancient world, the cornerstone was the first stone laid when building a structure. It was large, carefully cut, and set at the corner to ensure the whole building would be properly aligned and stable. When Jesus applied Psalm 118 to Himself, He revealed that, although the religious elite rejected Him as unworthy, Yahweh made Him the Cornerstone—the bedrock of God’s entire Kingdom. What they tossed aside, God lifted up as central and essential—the very foundation of salvation.

See, spiritual blindness isn’t just about access to God’s truth; it’s often fueled by pride and resistance to that truth. You can have a Bible on your shelf, a verse on your lips, even a theology degree on your wall—and still miss the heartbeat of God. Jesus didn’t mince words: “Your mistake is that you don’t know the Scriptures, and you don’t know the power of God.”

We live in a time when Bibles are everywhere—apps, websites, pockets, motels, shelves galore. But the question still echoes: Have you never read? Or maybe more pointedly: Have you truly read with ears open and heart receptive? The Scriptures aren’t just for information; they’re for transformation. They point us to Christ, the Living Word, the rejected Stone who became the Cornerstone of salvation.

Think of it like this: a map only helps if you follow it. Having the directions won’t get you anywhere unless you actually walk the path. In the same way, the Bible isn’t meant to sit in our heads like trivia; it’s meant to guide our feet into truth, obedience, and worship.

Today, may the Lord stir up a deeper hunger in you for His Word. May your eyes behold Christ as the Cornerstone, and may every time you open the Scriptures, you not only read them—but be read by them—shaped and strengthened by the living voice of God. 

September 23 — "Save Us Please! Save Us Now!"

Today's Reading: Matthew 21:1-22

The crowd’s cry in Matthew 21 still reverberates with soul-shaking power: “Hosanna in the highest!” At first glance, it sounds like simple praise—like a cheer at a parade. But oh, it’s so much more. That one word carries a depth of meaning that reaches far beyond palm branches and celebration.

Originally, “Hosanna” came from the Hebrew phrase Hoshi’a na—“Save us, please!” It’s found in Psalm 118:25: “Save us, we pray, O Lord! O Lord, we pray, give us success!” It was the desperate cry of a people aching for rescue. But over time, the word evolved. It became not just a plea for salvation, but a shout of triumph—“Salvation has come! Victory is here!” What began as a prayer of desperation bloomed into a declaration of hope.

On that first “Palm Sunday” in Jerusalem, the crowd shouted “Hoshi’a na” with both meanings packed into one breath. Some were pleading, “Save us from Rome!” Others—without even realizing it—were proclaiming a deeper truth: Jesus had come to save them from sin and death. They thought they were welcoming a political hero. Heaven knew they were welcoming the Savior of the world.

And that’s the breathtaking beauty of “Hoshi’a na”: it’s both a cry of the heart and a confession of faith. It means, “Lord, save me right now!” and also, “Lord, You’ve brought salvation, and I’m rejoicing!” Few words in all of Scripture carry that kind of dual punch—desperation and delight, plea and praise.

In our own walk with Jesus, “Hosanna” gives voice to the tension we live in. When you’re in the thick of a trial, whisper it as a prayer: “Hosanna—Lord, save me!” When you’re basking in God’s faithfulness, shout it as praise: “Hosanna—my Deliverer has come!”

So today, let “Hoshi’a na - Hosanna” be ever on your lips. In your need, let it rise like a prayer. In your joy, let it soar like a song. Because Jesus has heard your cry—and He’s already given you His victory.

May the Lord fill your heart today with the cry and the confidence of “Hosanna”—that in your weakness, you may find His rescue, and in your worship, you may rejoice in His triumph. 

September 22 — "Twice His"

Today's Reading: Matthew 20:17-34

Picture a little boy who builds a toy boat with his own two hands. He carves it, assembles it, fastens it together, paints it, and cherishes it. But one day, it drifts away on a pond and vanishes. Heartbroken, the boy later spots his beloved boat in a pawn shop window. Though he made it—so it’s rightfully his—the shopkeeper insists he must buy it back. So the boy works, saves, and finally pays the price to reclaim his treasure. Clutching his boat once more, he whispers, “Little boat, you’re twice mine—first I made you, and then I bought you. Now you’re really mine!”

That story mirrors the truth of Matthew 20:28: “The Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.” In the ancient world, ransom was the payment to release a slave or prisoner. It was the exact price required to buy back one’s freedom. And that’s what Jesus did for us. He created us in His image, which means we already belonged to Him. But sin carried us away, and like the little boat, we ended up in the pawnshop of bondage to sin. Though Jesus was our rightful Owner by creation, He chose to buy us back by ransom satisfying the demands of justice and love. Now we are twice His. He chose to buy us back with His own life. He made us once—and then He ransomed us. We are twice His.

Think about that! You are not only His by design—you are His by redemption. That means your worth is beyond question. You are not cheap, not accidental, not disposable. You were bought with the most precious currency ever paid: the blood of Christ. That also means your life is no longer your own. If you’re twice His, then every breath belongs to Him, and every day is an opportunity to live as His treasured possession.

So when guilt whispers that you’re not enough, remember: you’re twice His. When fear tells you that you’re abandoned, remember: you’re twice His. And when the enemy tries to chain you back to sin, stand tall in the truth that you’re twice His—made and bought, cherished and claimed.

May the Lord fill your heart today with the unshakable joy of knowing you are twice His. And may that truth set you free to live in bold love, humble service, and radiant hope until the day you see Him face to face. 

September 21 — "Envious of God’s Generosity"

Today's Reading: Matthew 20:1-16

God’s Kingdom doesn’t run on merit—it runs on grace. Undeserved, unearned, wildly generous grace. In the parable of the vineyard workers, Jesus flips the scoreboard and reveals a truth that rattles human pride: while we tally up effort, He pours out unearned mercy. The last become first, the first become last, because the Father delights in giving freely—not by our rules, but by His heart.

In Jesus’ day, day laborers lived hand-to-mouth, utterly reliant on landowners to feed their families. Getting hired late in the day could mean going home empty-handed. But in this parable, the master pays the latecomers a full day’s wage—a jaw-dropping act of generosity. When the early birds grumble, the master replies, “Can’t I do what I want with my own money?” Translation: God gives grace on His terms, not ours.

This story wrecks the spirit of comparison and competition. We might side-eye someone’s blessing—“Why her?” or “How did he get saved so late and still receive eternal life?” But Heaven isn’t a prize for performance; it’s a gift. Our God is lavish, not stingy. His mercy toward others doesn’t shrink His mercy toward us—it multiplies it.

Picture this: two travelers board a plane. One booked months in advance, the other snagged a last-minute seat. When they land, both arrive at the same destination, same time. The early planner might mutter, “But I prepared, I waited, I booked early!” Yet both made it because of the ticket—not the hustle. That’s grace. That’s how God works. His grace—not our grind—is what gets us our ticket home. And yes, He absolutely gets to do it that way.

So let’s swap envy for celebration. Instead of resenting someone else’s blessing, rejoice in God’s mercy. Cheer for every prodigal who stumbles home, every eleventh-hour sinner who gets swept into salvation. And remember—your own rescue wasn’t “fair.” It was mercy. The Lord handed you a ticket you didn’t earn. So live humbly, serve joyfully, and trust the Master’s generosity.

Today, may the Lord uproot every trace of envy from your heart and plant deep gratitude in its place. May He open your eyes to fresh mercies and free you from comparisons that steal your joy. And may you walk in the glad confidence that His generosity toward others only magnifies His goodness toward you. 

September 20 — "Bonded Like Superglue"

Today's Reading: Matthew 19

Marriage isn’t a manmade institution—it’s God’s divine masterpiece. From the beginning, the Lord declared that a man would leave his parents, be united to his wife, and the two would become one flesh. Jesus reaffirms this in Matthew 19:6.

When the Pharisees tried to trap Jesus with questions about divorce, He didn’t argue—He pointed them back to God’s original design. Marriage isn’t a contract—it’s a covenant. It’s not just two people agreeing to live together—it’s a sacred union, sealed by God. And since they’re no longer two but one, Jesus says, let no one separate what God has joined.

So what does “one flesh” mean? It’s more than physical intimacy. It’s emotional and spiritual bonding, covenantal commitment, and purposeful partnership. It’s the kind of unity that says, “Your joy is mine. Your pain is mine.” Like Adam recognizing Eve as “bone of my bones,” it’s a Gospel picture of indivisible love—two lives, one mission, one heart.

In today’s culture, relationships are treated like fast food—quick, disposable, and easily replaced. But Jesus’ words cut through the noise. If God joins a husband and wife, then marriage is holy, enduring, and intentional. For Christ-followers, this means we don’t enter marriage lightly, nor do we abandon it when things get hard. We honor God by cherishing the spouse He’s given us, pursuing unity, practicing forgiveness, and loving sacrificially—reflecting Christ’s faithful love for His Church.

Think of superglue. Once it bonds, it’s nearly impossible to separate without damage. That’s marriage. Or picture a peanut butter and jelly sandwich—try peeling off the peanut butter and the jelly comes with it. That’s God’s design: inseparable, blended, one.

So what’s your move? If you’re married, recommit today to your vows—not just before your spouse, but before God. Serve each other with humility, forgive quickly, and fight for unity. If you’re single, honor marriage by preparing your heart to see it as sacred and God-ordained. Reject the world’s casual view and embrace God’s covenant standard.

And now, beloved, may the Lord bless your home with peace, your marriage with joy, and your heart with steadfast love. Walk in His grace, delight in His design, and let His love shine through you—today and always. 

September 19 — "No Ledger—No Limits"

Today's Reading: Matthew 18:21-35

Forgiveness isn’t a suggestion in the Christian life. Nor is it something reserved just for a few “super holy” religious ones. It’s a divine mandate for all of us. In Matthew 18, Peter asked Jesus if forgiving someone seven times was enough. Jesus responded, “I do not say to you seven times, but seventy times seven.” That’s 490, if you’re counting.

In Jewish tradition, forgiving three times was considered wildly generous—borderline heroic. Peter thought seven would earn a gold star. But Jesus wasn’t raising the bar—He was obliterating it. His message? Forgiveness isn’t about keeping a ledger; it’s about mirroring the heart of a God whose mercy is limitless.

So what does that mean for us today? It means forgiveness isn’t optional—it’s always on the table. We forgive because we’ve been forgiven. God erased a debt we could never repay—every sin, every act of rebellion, every stray thought and selfish deed—all nailed to the cross of Christ. Compared to the avalanche of grace we’ve received, the offenses others commit against us are spare change. Painful? Yes. But microscopic next to the mountain of mercy already credited to our account.

Let’s paint a picture: imagine standing in court, guilty of a billion-dollar fraud, with zero chance of repayment. Then—shockingly, abruptly—the judge cancels your debt and sets you free. Now imagine walking out and suing someone for twenty bucks. Absurd, right? That’s the contrast Jesus is driving home. The forgiveness we give will always be dwarfed by the forgiveness we’ve received.

Now, let’s be real—we don’t always feel like forgiving. And God never asks us to fake it or pretend the pain isn’t real. Forgiveness is a decision, not a mood. You may not “feel” forgiving, but you can still choose to release the person to God. Obedience comes first, and feelings follow. Think of forgiveness as handing over the IOU to the Lord—even if your emotions are still kicking and screaming.

So what now? Drop the scorecard. If you’re keeping a ledger of offenses, shred it. Let go of the grievances you’ve been gripping and give them to God. Forgive quickly. Forgive freely. Forgive fully. Forgive always. Even if you’re at number 490, there’s room for one more. Not because they deserve it, but because God drenched you in mercy when you didn’t deserve a drop. Forgiveness is the way of Jesus.

And now, may the Lord flood your memory with the mercy He’s lavished on you. May He soften the places hardened by hurt, fill your heart with His compassion, and lift the weight of resentment off your shoulders. May His Spirit empower you to forgive again and again and again—just as He has so extravagantly forgiven you.