Scripture Reading: Luke 4:18-19

Scripture is God breathed and true. When we memorize it, we carry the good news of Jesus with us wherever we go.Over the course of this reading plan, we will memorize Luke 4:18–19, a passage from the prophet Isaiah that Jesus quoted while teaching in the synagogue. This week we will memorize the first portion of verse 18.

18 “The Spirit of the Lord is on me,

because he has anointed me

to preach good news to the poor.

He has sent me

to proclaim release to the captives

and recovery of sight to the blind,

to set free the oppressed,

19 to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”

—Luke 4:18–19

Therefore, let us approach the throne of grace with boldness, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in time of need.

—Hebrews 4:16

Weekly She Reads Truth podcast episodes correspond to the current community reading plan.

Click here to listen to this week’s episode.

I’m pretty sure I responded to my first speaking invitation with some form of “over my dead body.” In fact, I think I said those exact words.

It was just a few months after my first book released, and a bubbly woman at church asked if I’d consider going to California to speak at a women’s event at her home church. I think I said, “Listen, I don’t want to say ‘over my dead body,’ but I really think everyone has different gifts. I love writing about Jesus, but speaking is not my thing. So, with so much love, over my dead body.”

Yeah. That’s what I said. I didn’t say I’d take time to pray about it. I didn’t thoughtfully consider this opportunity for ministry. It was a knee-jerk, hard no for me. I knew myself. I knew I didn’t feel called or qualified or have the slightest desire to stand behind a microphone and say words to people. Therefore, “over my dead body” it was.

It makes me laugh to remember it now, because shortly after that instant no, the Holy Spirit convicted me. He quickly and kindly revealed that my resistance was rooted in fear of people, in selfishness, and in disobedience. I was being invited to talk about Jesus, and I was saying no because I was thinking about me.

If there’s one thing today’s passages remind us of, it’s that God has never made a habit of choosing the people who feel most qualified.

When Peter witnessed the miraculous catch of fish, he didn’t think, Boom. Nailed it. You’re welcome, Jesus. No, he fell at Jesus’s knees and said, “Go away from me, because I’m a sinful man, Lord!” (Luke 5:8). Isaiah had the same response. Standing before the perfect holy God, he shouted in anguish, “Woe is me!” (Isaiah 6:5). That basically translates to, “I should be dead right now. I am unworthy…” but in all caps.

Yet in both stories, God didn’t dismiss their inadequacy. He met it with grace. Jesus told Peter, “Don’t be afraid…From now on, you will be catching people” (Luke 5:10). God cleansed Isaiah’s lips and forgave his sin, then used him as His messenger (Isaiah 6:7–8).

God has never been looking for the polished or impressive. He’s looking for people willing to follow, even if it feels a little like “over my dead body.”

I think about that conversation with the bubbly church lady often. Not because I’ve become a super-confident speaker but because the Lord used her to expose my fear and re-center my heart on Him. “If someone is asking you to share what I’ve done for you,” He seemed to whisper, “why would you say no?”

I’ve been speaking about Jesus for almost a decade now, and it’s still uncomfortable. But it’s become one of my favorite things. Not because I feel qualified but because I know I’m not.

Over and over, God takes ordinary, hesitant people and draws them into His joyful work. He provides the message, He puts the fish in the net, and He gets the glory. What is He inviting you into? I hope you’ll say yes.

Written by Scarlet Hiltibidal

If you follow sports, even casually, you’re familiar with this scenario: An athlete does really well in college, is drafted and paid a lavish amount of money, and then plays their first game as a professional. There is a lot of publicity, because a of people are expecting them to do well on the next level. In the Gospel of Luke, we can see Jesus’s temptation in the desert like this, only more so. Instead of proving His athletic ability, He was proving His character. He was proving that He really is who His heavenly Father said He is.

These three desert temptations are the types of temptations we also face. We don’t face them in the same way that Jesus faced them; our mission is not His mission. But we do face temptations to find security apart from God. We face temptations to take control and avoid suffering. And we face temptations to be spectacular or to expect God to be spectacular on demand.

Jesus, in His resistance to temptation, shows us how we also can resist temptation. The first step is relying on the Holy Spirit to help us recognize what temptation looks like. Often, the things we may be tempted to do might seem good, but they draw us away from the heart of God. They might seem good but not be the best. This discernment is not easy, but it is possible through reliance on the Holy Spirit.

Jesus also demonstrates how to resist temptation by trusting the wisdom and character of God revealed in Scripture. Sadly, we are often more like the Israelites grumbling in the desert than like Jesus trusting God in the desert. We may fall prey to temptation over and over. But Luke’s Gospel shows us that Jesus was faithful when the Israelites were not.

Consider the parallels Luke points to in this passage: Israel was in the desert for forty years; Jesus was in the desert for forty days. Israel was in the desert after they passed through the Red Sea; Jesus was in the desert after He passed through the waters of baptism. And when Jesus responded to the devil, He even quoted verses from this part of Israel’s history.

Jesus is being shown as the faithful Israel. And because Jesus is the faithful Israel, we know that when we fail, God will not abandon us. “If we are faithless, he remains faithful, for he cannot deny himself” (2Timothy 2:13).

Resisting temptation is possible. The same Holy Spirit who led Jesus in the desert is the same Holy Spirit who lives in us if we are in Christ (John 14:26). But if we do fail, let’s be thankful along with the author of Hebrews that “we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who has been tempted in every way as we are, yet without sin. Therefore, let us approach the throne of grace with boldness, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in time of need” (Hebrews 4:15–16).

 Written by Elliot Ritzema

Our neighborhood in Franklin, Tennessee, sits just a stone’s throw from Mack Hatcher Parkway, one of the city’s busiest roads. In recent weeks, a road crew has been preparing a large section of that road for a major widening project—two lanes becoming four. For the next several years, Franklin residents will watch and wait as the plans unfold and a new way is prepared. Watching and waiting. Waiting and watching.

The people of Israel knew that rhythm well. For centuries, they had been watching and waiting—not for a road project but for the arrival of their Messiah, the promised One who would come and rescue them. And before the Messiah came, God had promised something else: A voice would cry out in the wilderness, calling the people to prepare their hearts. That voice belonged to John the Baptist.

John understood that the people’s deepest need was not deliverance from Rome. They needed rescue from something far more oppressive—the dominion of sin that reigned in their hearts. They needed, as Isaiah put it, a pardon for their iniquity (Isaiah 40:2).

John’s role as the one who would prepare the way for Jesus was no accident. It was ordained. Centuries before John was born, God had announced through Isaiah that a messenger would come, one who would make straight the path for the Lord’s arrival (vv.40:3–5). When Luke recorded John’s ministry in chapter three, he explicitly connected it to that ancient prophecy. John’s faithfulness in fulfilling his calling is a testimony to God’s faithfulness in keeping His promises to a people who had been watching and waiting for a very long time.

What did that preparation look like in practice? Preaching. Baptizing. And pointing—always pointing away from himself and toward the One who was coming. John called people to genuine repentance, the kind with hands and feet: Share your coat, deal honestly, don’t exploit others (Luke 3:10–14). And when the crowds began to wonder if John himself might be the Messiah, he was quick to set the record straight: “I baptize you with water, but one who is more powerful than I am is coming. I am not worthy to untie the strap of his sandals” (v.16).

This was not false modesty. It was the joy of a man who knew exactly who he was and who Jesus was. In John 3, when his own disciples grew concerned that everyone was flocking to Jesus instead of him, John responded with one of the most beautiful pictures in all of Scripture. He likened himself to the groom’s friend at a wedding—the best man who stands nearby, listens for the groom’s voice, and rejoices when he hears it. “He must increase, but I must decrease” (John 3:30).

This is the posture of a faithful servant and a worthy model for every one of us. We, too, are called to be voices, not the Word itself; preparers of the way, not the destination. The question worth sitting with today is simply this: Are you pointing people to Jesus or to yourself?

Written by Will Heydel

Only our oldest child, Lincoln, was born back when my husband and I lived in Wisconsin. Then we moved west, and years later our younger two were born in California, the state we’ve now lived in for over a decade. But Lincoln loves that his Wisconsin birth makes him unique within our family and among his California friends.

The places we were born show up on our birth certificates, passports, and a few other legal documents. But in general, for most of us, our cities of birth don’t affect our daily lives much unless we are refugees or immigrants seeking citizenship in a new country.

It may have us wondering: Why does it matter that Jesus was born in Bethlehem? Why does Luke devote papyrus and ink to emphasizing this fact?

First, there were many prophecies about Jesus. He would be born of a virgin (Isaiah 7:14). He would be a prophet (Deuteronomy 18:15). And He would be born in Bethlehem (Micah 5:2).

Christ’s birth in the city of Bethlehem matters not just because it fulfilled an ancient prophecy but also because it was a sign of His kingship. His genealogy included King David, and Bethlehem was commonly known as the “city of David.”

Yet in contrast to the rulers of our world who so often seek power for themselves, Luke tells us that in the ancient city of David, a Savior was born. Not a king who would bring glory to himself. Not a bloodthirsty king. Not even a king like David, a “man after God’s own heart” who nevertheless ended up committing some very egregious sins.

No, the Savior born in Bethlehem was “born for you” (Luke 2:11). Though He is the Messiah, meaning “anointed” or “chosen one,” He brought His power to heal, draw together, and save. He arrived not in a golden palace but in a manger. When He entered Jerusalem three decades later, He would do so on the back of a donkey, not a war horse.

Jesus is a different kind of king altogether.

A few months ago, our family put up a Little Free Library in front of our house. You may have seen these—small cabinets filled with reading material, often sporting a sign that says “Take a book, leave a book.” Soon after it was put up, I noticed one of the children from our street looking longingly at the books. When she saw me, she quickly closed the library cabinet’s door, looking ashamed.

“Wait!” I called out to her, coming down our front sidewalk. “These books are free!” She hesitated. I opened the library door back up and said, “These books are for you.” Immediately she smiled and took one out.

In a world where nothing is free and so many are out for their own power or influence or financial gain, a Savior came to us, born in the city of David. Why?

For you.

As someone who has spent a lot of time in hospitals with loved ones over the years, I’m convinced that the field of medicine is as much art as it is science. There are volumes of facts and formulas involved, to be sure, but there is more than a little intuition and creativity as well. This is what I’ve come to love most about my favorite doctors and nurses: They approach their work with a nuance that cannot be taught in a text book, a respect for the well-studied yet ever mysterious creation that is the human body.  

I’m reminded of my medical friends when I read the Gospel of Luke, whose author and namesake was a Gentile physician and first-century follower of Jesus. While all four Gospel accounts offer a perspective on the life and ministry of Jesus, one of the unique elements of Luke’s is that he focused heavily on Jesus’s humanity. From the very first chapter, with both conviction and awe, the physician presented the tangible reality and glorious mystery that the eternal Son of God became incarnate in the person of Jesus. 

In Jesus Christ, God took on our humanity so that we could be reconciled to Him, adopted by Him, and welcomed into His presence forever.  

As Bible readers, we have the privilege of witnessing this inbreaking of God’s kingdom on earth through Luke’s detail-oriented account of Jesus’s life, from His birth all the way to His ascension. It’s Luke who described how John the Baptist leapt in Elizabeth’s womb in the presence of Mary and the yet-to-be born baby Jesus. It’s Luke who gave us the most extensive and beloved narrative of Jesus’s humble birth and who described Christ’s agony in Gethsemane with the gut-wrenching descriptor that His sweat “was like drops of blood” (Luke 22:44). It’s Luke who described the risen Jesus being carried into heaven—not in theory but in actual physical reality (Luke 24:51). 

Did you know that Luke also gave us more than fifteen parables not recorded elsewhere? As the longest book in the New Testament, more than one-third of the content in Luke’s Gospel is not found in the other three. All along the way, Luke highlighted Jesus’s intentional pursuit of those marginalized by society, not shrinking away from humanity but embracing and redeeming it. 

As we approach this unique book of the Bible together, I pray we’ll read Luke with soft hearts and open minds, allowing the physician to direct our gaze to the incarnate Christ. May the Holy Spirit help us hear the drumbeat that echoes through each of these twenty-four chapters: “The Son of Man has come to seek and to save the lost” (Luke 19:10). Praise God for this good news! 

Over the course of this study, we have been memorizing Daniel 4:34. This week, commit the entirety of it to memory.

For his dominion is an everlasting dominion,
and his kingdom is from generation to generation.
—Daniel 4:34

But God, who is rich in mercy, because of his great love that he had for us, made us alive with Christ…
—Ephesians 2:4–5

Weekly She Reads Truth podcast episodes correspond to the current community reading plan.
Click here to listen to this week’s episode.

“How long, LORD? Will you forget me forever?” (Psalm 13:1). When I’m struggling, these words from the psalmist often echo in my mind. I was 15 years old when I learned about Jesus, began reading the Bible, and became a Christian. Now I look back on over thirty years of following God and finding Him faithful. Yet when I trudge through deep valleys of anxiety, conflict, or brokenness, I still often find myself doubting, wondering, “Lord, do you see me? Do you care?”

Daniel’s visions were terrifying, and the suffering he saw was ongoing and spanned nations. He was given a weighty responsibility to witness and report such intense distress. Yet he was also given a powerful reminder of God’s promises. This gracious reminder is for us as well.

An angelic interpreter explained to Daniel, “Those who have insight will shine like the bright expanse of the heavens, and those who lead many to righteousness, like the stars forever and ever” (Daniel 12:3). What a strange thing to say, that God’s people would shine like stars. But the imagery was not lost on Daniel. He was a faithful Israelite, and this “star talk” would trigger the memory of God’s ancient promise made in the midst of another man’s vision: “Do not be afraid, Abram. I am your shield….Look at the sky and count the stars, if you are able to count them….Your offspring will be that numerous” (Genesis 15:1,5). God promised to grow and protect a vast nation through Abram’s family tree. Yet as the years went by and his wife, Sarai, bore no children, Abram began to fear that God might not be true to His word.

Like Abram, Daniel was scared of the future. When would the distress give way to deliverance? “How long until the end of these wondrous things?” asked another witness in the vision (Daniel 12:6). Daniel didn’t get all the answers, but he did receive assurance that God was, and would always be, trustworthy. In remembering the stars, Daniel knew that God had not forgotten Abram. His son Isaac was born. God kept His promise to grow the nation of Israel through Abram’s descendants, and He changed Abram’s name to Abraham, meaning “father of many nations” (Genesis 17:5). God proved Himself true to Abraham, and He would continue to be faithful to Daniel and all future believers.

Maybe the stars can trigger our memory of God’s faithfulness too. God knows we can be confused by the world’s suffering and by our own pain. Like Daniel, we may be scared of the future. But God assures us He is “the Alpha and the Omega…the one who is, who was, and who is to come, the Almighty” (Revelation 1:8).

This is our trustworthy, unchanging, eternal hope. God established His people through Abraham’s son, and He protects and secures His people through His own Son, Jesus. God is with us: We are His people, and He is our God. We may forget God, but He does not forget us. He sees us, and He cares for us. Remember the stars.

Written by Patti Sauls