We are committing to memory Luke 4:18–19. This week we will add the final 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

Scripture Reading: 1 Peter 2:25

Take this day to catch up on your reading, pray, and rest in the presence of the Lord.

For you were like sheep going astray, but you have now returned to the Shepherd and Overseer of your souls.
—1 Peter 2:25

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

Click here to listen to this week’s episode

There is unfathomable abundance in Jesus—so many reasons why “the whole crowd of the disciples began to praise God joyfully with a loud voice for all the miracles they had seen” (Luke 19:37).

So why is it sometimes hard for us to praise God as this crowd did, to recount all the miracles we’ve seen?

I think, in part, it’s hard for us to praise God because we are forgetful people. We wonder at the Israelites grumbling in the desert when their sandals didn’t wear out and manna kept coming. How did they forget the promises of God again and again after watching Him peel back the Red Sea?

But we do the same: We see God’s miracles, and then, even the next moment, we forget and wonder why He seemingly doesn’t see us. But God—one of my favorite phrases in the Bible—knows we are forgetful people, and He loves us still, has called us His own, and pursues us, gently reminding us of His faithfulness again and again. We are but sheep, but He is our Good Shepherd (John 10:11).

The Lord’s miracles today might be huge and visible, and there might be equally huge but unnoticed miracles. As one of my favorite Bible teachers says, “it is always a miracle if you know Jesus.”

It’s truly a miracle that the Lord chose to save us (Romans 5:6–8). It’s a miracle that He sees us and loves us still. It’s a miracle that He continues to pursue us, who continually forget His miracles. It’s a miracle that His grace to us is a well that never runs dry.

When we lose sight of the miracle of our salvation, we lose the joy of our salvation and we stop praising Him. We were made to praise our Creator, and our hearts find rest and joy in Him when we do. Even when sin and circumstances weigh us down into despair, as impossible as it feels, cry out to God and praise Him.

The Lord knew we’d need songs to drive our eyes from the trail up to Him. On this pilgrimage to heaven, He graciously gives us new songs to sing. Start with these today:

For the LORD is good, and his faithful love endures forever;
his faithfulness, through all generations.

—Psalm 100:5

Rejoice greatly, Daughter Zion!
Shout in triumph, Daughter Jerusalem!
Look, your King is coming to you;
he is righteous and victorious,
humble and riding on a donkey,
on a colt, the foal of a donkey.

—Zechariah 9:9

Praise the Savior, who knew the very people praising Him at His triumphal entry would soon shout, “Crucify him!” But He still willingly died for them, and for me, and for you. “But God proves his own love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8).

Written by Kimberly Girard

Imagine for a moment trying to squeeze a massive camel through the tiny eye of a sewing needle. It’s a ridiculous, jarring image. Yet this is exactly how Jesus responded to a wealthy leader’s heavy sadness.

That sadness was provoked by a radical invitation: Give your wealth away, then come follow me. But the man did not. Instead, Scripture says that “he became extremely sad, because he was very rich” (Luke 18:23).

And what was the prize this young man walked away from? Eternal life—both in his present life and in the age to come.

Eternal life is a phrase most Christians know by heart, but few of us can truly wrap our minds around it. We treat it like a distant land we might read about in a Tolkien story or a fairy-tale kingdom with talking lions. But Luke 18 brings eternal life down to earth, making it more real than the sunrise this morning and more intimate than the friend you just shared coffee with, because the life Jesus was inviting the young man to wouldn’t begin after death. It begins in faith that Jesus is the Son of God who has brought His kingdom and a new way of living free found only in Him.

So why turn that down? Because the ruler’s outward religion had not formed his inward affections. He had fallen into the ancient trap Solomon warned about in Proverbs 11:28: “Anyone trusting in his riches will fall, but the righteous will flourish like foliage.” The ruler was leaning the full weight of his identity on the decaying structure of wealth and achievement.

The disciples’ immediate panic was evident in their response to Jesus’s camel-and-needle illustration: “Then who can be saved?” (Luke 18:26). Their fear confirmed that the ruler’s problem was a systemic one—he thought salvation was a transaction, not a transformation. The disciples were looking at the ruler’s piety; Jesus was looking at his heart. And piety without a consecrated heart is just performance.

This is why Paul charged wealthy believers in 1 Timothy 6:17–19 not to be haughty or to set their hopes on the “uncertainty of wealth.” Instead, he challenged them to anchor their hope in God “who richly provides us with all things to enjoy.” Paul goes on: “Instruct them to do what is good, to be rich in good works, to be generous and willing to share, storing up treasure for themselves as a good foundation for the coming age, so that they may take hold of what is truly life.”

When our possessions possess us, we miss the life and rest found only in the Father’s hands. Jesus wasn’t trying to bankrupt the rich young ruler; He was inviting him to release his grip on fleeting comfort in order to inherit eternal provision.

A camel through the eye of a needle is possible. God can overwhelm our affections and free us from the allure of temporary pleasures to receive His eternal inheritance. That is the power of Christ in us!

Where in your life are you relying on the fleeting comfort of what you can earn or accumulate rather than resting in the secure, eternal provision already given to you by the Father in Christ?

Written by Ryne Brewer

I love a good fantasy novel. Most of the time, life as they know it is over for the main characters the second they discover a magical power or dusty wardrobe in a spare room. It definitely helps that evil is usually defeated within 500 to 800 pages (give or take a few books if it’s a really great series) and the boundary lines between good and bad kingdoms are clearly defined.

As we live in God’s kingdom, we aren’t afforded the same luxury of my beloved fantasy lands. Sometimes it’s hard to discern where God is, what His voice sounds like, and why He would let certain storylines play out. Life goes on whether we’re struck by tragedy or joy. With that, I can’t help but relate to a religious leader like the ones in Luke 17 wanting something as important as the coming of the kingdom of God marked on their calendar.

I’m thankful for Jesus’s answer: “For you see, the kingdom of God is in your midst” (Luke 17:21). It is not “here” or “there” (v.21) and so confined to a specific place, time, or action. By referencing Noah and Lot, I see Jesus reminding His disciples that their work is made up in an ordinary life that goes on while waiting to see God’s kingdom fully realized. There’s no waiting to participate in its goodness—it’s possible to brush up against the kingdom of God as we eat, drink, marry, buy, sell, plant, and build. Jesus brings His kingdom and its purpose into the stuff that makes up our everyday lives.

Though great corruption plagued Noah’s generation and Sodom is synonymous with debauchery, Jesus reminded us of evil’s fate in those stories: The ways of the wicked were brought to justice, and the people who trusted in God’s righteousness saw His glory. While we know we haven’t experienced God’s kingdom in its fullness, it is alive and well right now—if we only have the eyes to see where He might already be working. We enact the kingdom when we listen for God’s voice and obey His direction in our lives.

So whenever you grow weary of our generation’s version of this perpetual brokenness, I urge you to draw comfort from the fact that Jesus’s kingdom has already come into the middle of this mess. Like Jesus anticipated, we long to see the day when He will come again (v.22). And it’s especially hard to remember that we don’t have to “follow or run after it” (v.23). God’s kingdom is in our midst. We do not have to make our life secure (v.33), for He has already secured us.

Where can you step into God’s kingdom today?

Written by Kayla De La Torre

I’m about to share one of the worst four-letter words in my experience of the English language. I hear it all day every day, and I grit my teeth whenever someone lets it fly. Even my own three children throw this word around like it’s nothing. The word of which I speak is this: just.

Allow me to illustrate how my little angels might utilize this gem of the English language.

Me: Please go empty the dishwasher.

Kid A: Can I do it later? I just woke up.

Me: That’s enough ice cream; put it back in the freezer.

Kid B: Fine, but just one more bite?

Me: Turn your phone off, and do something useful with your life.

Kid C: I just picked it up, Dad. Can I just finish this one thing?

The incessant J-bombs irk me so very much. All I want is for them to trust my wisdom, my intentions, and my concern for their best interests. I just want them to do what I ask without haggling on the details.

Uh oh. Looks like I’m not innocent here.

Upon further reflection, I realize that I use the same word with my heavenly Father as much if not more than my kids do with me.

Now, I should emphasize that this is about more than the word just. It’s a heart issue that reveals how I want absolute control of everything God has given me. I want to decide when, where, and how I deploy my time and energy. I want to negotiate with God’s expectations, especially on what I consider little things.

But we can’t forget Jesus’s own words: “Whoever is faithful in very little is also faithful in much, and whoever is unrighteous in very little is also unrighteous in much” (Luke 16:10). The little stuff matters, and quibbling with God over the terms of my obedience is evidence that I am predisposed to resisting His authority on the big stuff as well.

When I invite the Lord to search and know my heart, the problem explodes into full view: I am constantly trying to wrest control of my life from God’s hands so I can govern my own universe.

I refuse to wallow in shame about it, though. In fact, I praise God that I can see and name this insidious foible of mine. Only by bringing it to the light can I repent and submit it to the Lord.

How awesome it would be if I didn’t attempt to qualify the terms of my allegiance to God. What if I said, “Yes, Lord,” and eagerly ran in whatever direction He sent me? What I want for my life, after all, is to be wholly devoted to God in thought, word, and deed. Whether in the most innocuous details or in true life-or-death scenarios, I want my heart, mind, soul, and strength to belong to the Lord.

Just imagine what God could do!

Written by Alex Florez

If you’re fortunate, it’s been long enough since you’ve experienced being lost that you’ve forgotten the sheer terror of it. Dig into your memories and find yourself there again, tucked into a clothing rack at a department store, searching for signs of your mama, or wandering through an unfamiliar city without your GPS, and allow yourself to feel it anew. The sweaty palms, the dry mouth, the disorientation that comes from not knowing which direction to go, the desperation to find yourself safely tucked back into the arms of the familiar.

We can’t fault the Pharisees and scribes, not really. They saw Jesus breaking bread with the “lost,” and they forgot, bless them, how remarkable it is to be found. “And the Pharisees and scribes were complaining, ‘This man welcomes sinners and eats with them’” (Luke 15:2). And so Jesus laid out a series of lessons.

He started with sheep, a relatively disposable commodity. As a sheep farmer myself, I can say with certainty that the flock matters, as do the individual hooves and horns that make it up, but a lost sheep or two is relatively minor. That is, unless you’re the Good Shepherd…or that one sheep who’s wandered off.

As the religious leaders listened to Jesus, perhaps they counted themselves among the ninety-nine, safe in the pen of rules and right thinking. And yet, whether in the pen or gone astray, the Good Shepherd deeply loves His sheep, all of them. Pay attention to the numbers in this first scene. The ratio of lost to found is one to ninety-nine, but Jesus was about to raise the stakes.

Consider a woman with ten silver coins. One slipped through her fingers. It was lost but not forgotten. She searched earnestly until the coin was back in her hands. In Jesus’s second story, the ratio of lost to found is one to nine. Perhaps the Pharisees were still stifling a yawn at this point. Who cares about a single straggling sheep or even a single roll-away coin? When it comes to livestock and treasure, value is all relative.

But what about a son? Would we carelessly disregard a lost son? A loving parent would exhaust every resource to bring their lost boy home. The ratio here is intimate. One boy at home and one gone astray, one obedient and one in rebellion. Each time the Lord taught the principle, the margins narrow. Heaven can never become so full of the saved that the Lord will cease to care about the lost.

Those who bear His image are not cattle to Him. He doesn’t think of us like pennies, barely worth being picked up off the sidewalk. We are His beloved children, the apple of His eye (Psalm 17:8). At the cross, He proved He would pay any ransom for us, as we, too, have been lost in the darkness of sin. What the Pharisees didn’t see was that Jesus wasn’t just eating a meal with the lost. He was searching for lost sheep, seeking missing treasure, and running to meet His beloved sons and daughters.

Written by Erin Davis

This week we will memorize…

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

Take this day to catch up on your reading, pray, and rest in the presence of the Lord.

And we know that the Son of God has come and has given us understanding so that we may know the true one. We are in the true one—that is, in his Son, Jesus Christ. He is the true God and eternal life.

—1 John 5:20

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

Click here to listen to this week’s episode

There’s got to be at least one of us who can relate. You know that awkward little calculation of walking into a room and wondering where to sit? There are physical considerations, sight lines, things happening in the room—all factors we assess in an instant. If I’m too far back, will they think I don’t care? If I’m too close, will I seem presumptuous?

We hardly speak of it, but we often quietly measure where we belong. This wasn’t the case for a group of men two thousand years ago who were comfortable in the pride of their place.

To set the stage: Clearly Jesus’s reputation had gone before Him. He was already drawing crowds and had been warned about Herod’s curiosity. One wonders about the dynamics in the room when this “troublemaker” was invited to an intimate evening with not just the ruling class but a ruler of the ruling class. Luke details that the Pharisees “were watching him closely,” no doubt with a critical eye (Luke 14:1).

What was happening was that a man was in their midst—clearly afflicted with a painful physical condition. After asking the Pharisees if it’s lawful to heal on the Sabbath, Jesus healed the man and sent him on his way. Why, when asked if they would offer their own children help on the Sabbath, were the Pharisees stunned silent?

The way these men were reclining in their speechlessness showed they did not understand what Jesus wanted them to hear. They would not lift an elbow off a cushion to serve a man in need, but they sure were eager to eat the bread of the kingdom of God!

Here’s where a surprising insight is found. Everyone at this dinner party was needy but only some people knew it. The sick, poor, and hungry? Of course they recognized their need, and they received what Jesus offered. After all, it’s in His nature to care for the lowly. But He also confronts the assumptions of the haughty. Jesus uses the imagery of a banquet to teach us about being meek, not weak. The Pharisees could not see their own neediness, and they did not understand that humility is part of God’s nature. Jesus put Himself last so that we could be first. He modeled what it looks like to give up one’s life for the sake of another.

How would these Pharisees willingly bear a cross when they couldn’t even spare a word? Jesus shows us the answer. His example of service and way of challenging prideful assumptions demonstrate how precious grace is. We all have needs—the indigent, the honored guest, the host, the crowds. The way we respond to Jesus’s invitation to a life of humility will reveal the measure of our vanity. The proud use tables to argue their status while the humble see them as a way to extend God’s grace to all.

Can we do the same? When reflecting on these things, consider: Where do I sit when I walk into a room? Who gets invited to the events I host? How well do I handle interruptions? What are the excuses I make?

What does following Jesus actually cost? In the end, He is worth it.

Written by Canaan Chapman