New Day With Jesus

"If the foundations are destroyed, What can the righteous do?" - Psalm 11:3 This verse from Psalm 11 confronts us with a sobering reality: when the moral, spiritual, or societal foundations of a community begin to crumble, the righteous may feel powerless, disoriented, or even abandoned.  David, the psalmist, is not merely lamenting the decay of institutions or traditions—he is pointing to the deeper erosion of truth, justice, and faith. Psalm 11:3 is a spiritual alarm. When David asks, “If the foundations be destroyed, what can the righteous do?” he's not just talking about physical structures or political systems. He's pointing to the collapse of the moral and spiritual bedrock that holds society together: truth, justice, and faith. Let’s break that down: Truth : When lies replace honesty, and deception becomes normalized, the righteous are left navigating a fog of confusion. Without truth, trust erodes — in institutions, in relationships, eve...

Psalm 23: 4 "Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; For You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me." There are seasons in life when the path grows dark—when grief, uncertainty, or fear cast long shadows over our days. Psalm 23:4 speaks directly into those moments: “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil…” In this the psalmist acknowledges the obvious – The valley is real. The shadow is real. But so is the presence of God. Psalm 23:4 doesn’t shy away from the reality of suffering. It names the valley—the shadow of death—as part of the journey. It doesn’t pretend that faith erases hardship. It names faith for what it is. Faith isn’t a magic escape—it’s a steady hand to hold when the road gets rough. “I will fear no evil, for You are with me.” God’s presence doesn’t always remove the valley, but it transforms how we move through it. Faith is not denial—it’s defiance. It’s...

“ Keep me safe, O God,   for I have come to you for refuge.   I said to the  Lord , “You are my Master! Every good thing I have comes from you .”    Psalm 16:1,2 - NLT This passage is a quiet cry of trust—a soul seeking shelter in God. It begins with vulnerability: “Keep me safe.” Not because the psalmist is strong, but because he knows where to run.  Refuge isn’t found in escape—it’s found in presence. In turning toward God, we find the only safety that truly holds. Coming to God for refuge is more than asking for protection—it’s choosing intimacy. It’s saying, “I trust You with my fears, my future, my very life.” It’s the posture of surrender, not just in crisis, but in every moment.  “You are my Master” This declaration is saying, “You lead, I follow.” It’s a recognition that God’s authority is not oppressive, but freeing. In calling Him Master, the psalmist is choosing to live under the care of a loving Lord. “Every good thing I have comes from yo...

Psalm 34: 5 "Those who look to him are radiant; their faces are never covered with shame." Psalm 34:5 is a beautiful reminder of the transformative power of trust and devotion. To “look to Him” is more than a glance—it’s a posture of the heart, a turning of our gaze toward God in hope, dependence, and worship. And what happens when we do? Radiance. Radiant Faces   Radiance here is the glow of peace that comes from knowing we’re not alone. It’s the light of joy that shines through even in hardship. When we fix our eyes on God, we reflect His light. Like Moses coming down from Mount Sinai with a face shining from divine encounter, those who seek God carry His presence visibly. Freedom from Shame   Shame is heavy. It distorts identity and isolates. But this verse promises that those who look to God will not be covered in shame. Why? Because God doesn’t define us by our failures. He lifts our heads, restores dignity, and clothes us in grace. In His presence, shame loses its grip....

(Inspired by Matthew 11:28) Come, all I say is come—  You weary souls weighed down by day,  Whose burdens bend the back and heart,  Whose dreams have dimmed along the way. Come, all I say is come—  You travelers lost in storm and strife,  Who seek a shore, a steady hand,  A breath of peace, a taste of life. Come, all I say is come—  Not for the strong who stand alone,  But for the ones whose silent cries  Have pierced the night with aching groan. Come, all I say is come—  I offer rest, not just relief,  A peace that sings through storm and shadow,  A grace that meets you in your grief. Come, all I say is come—  My arms are wide, my rest is near,  No shame shall bar you from my grace,  No fear shall drown what love makes clear. Come, all I say is come—  Lay down your load, your guilt, your grief,  And find in me a gentle yoke,  A healing touch, a soul’s relief. Come, all I say is come—  The doo...

Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.  Matthew 11:28 One of the most transformative invitations ever given by Jesus is contained in the beginning word of the verse above – "Come". It's an invitation that has changed the lives of countless people across the world. It speaks directly to the human condition—our exhaustion, our worries, our hidden struggles and boldly invites us to a new life. Jesus doesn’t say, “Come to me once you’ve figured it all out,” or “Come to me when you’re strong.” Instead, He calls to us in our weakness, in our weariness, in our brokenness. He acknowledges our burdens and offers not just relief, but rest—a deep, soul-level peace that the world cannot provide. This rest is not merely physical. It’s the kind that quiets the anxious mind, soothes the aching heart, and restores the weary spirit. It’s the assurance that we are not alone, that we are seen, known, and loved by a Savior who carries our bur...

  “From the end of the earth will I cry unto thee, when my heart is overwhelmed: lead me to the rock that is higher than I.” — Psalm 61:2 There are moments in life when the weight of the world presses so heavily upon our hearts that we feel as though we are standing at the very edge of existence—isolated, weary, and unsure. In those moments, David’s cry in Psalm 61:2 becomes our own. It is not just a poetic verse; it is a lifeline. To be overwhelmed is to be submerged in sorrow, anxiety, or confusion. It is to feel as though the waves of life are crashing faster than we can swim. But David does not simply describe his despair — he models what to do with it. He cries out. Not to the void, not to himself, but to God. From the farthest reaches, from the margins of strength and hope, he lifts his voice. David speaks from a place of emotional exile, as if he were at the very edge of the earth. His heart is overwhelmed, flooded with burdens too heavy to bear. In this cry, we hear the...

Inspired by Isaiah 54:10 Though the mountains be moved into the sea,  And earth beneath us tremble violently,  Though waters roar and foam with rising tide,  Still in Your refuge, Lord, we safely hide. The peaks may fall, the valleys split in two,  The skies may darken, stars forsake their hue,  Yet in the chaos, one truth holds me fast—  Your love, unshaken, anchors through the blast. The stars may fall, the sky may lose its hue,  The winds may howl and tear the world in two,  But in the storm, Your whisper calms my soul:  “My covenant of peace will make you whole.” Not shaken by the fury of the land,  Not broken by what I can't understand,  Your mercy stands when all else fades away—  A lighthouse through the night, a dawn of day. So let the world unravel at its seams,  Let silence steal the echo of my dreams—  Still You will hold me, faithful as the tide,  With love that will not fail, and peace that will abid...

Inspired by Psalm 46:1–2 God is our refuge, our shelter, our shield,  A fortress of strength when the nights grow long In shadows of sorrow, in tempests that rise,  He stands beside us, all-knowing, all-wise. When thunder rolls and the mountains quake,  When oceans roar and the hills break,  We will not tremble, we will not flee—  For God is our strength, our surety. Though the earth beneath may crack and groan,  And the sea swallows peaks once carved in stone,  Still we will trust, still we will sing,  For we are held by Heaven’s King. Though earth may tremble, foundations may break,  And mountains plunge deep in the sea’s wide wake,  We will not fear, though the world may reel,  For God is our anchor, steadfast and real. He is the calm in the chaos we face,  A present help, a well of grace.  When all else falters, He remains—  A steadfast rock through floods and flames. So let the winds howl, let the wild waves rise...

" God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble ." - Psalm 46:1 In a world that often feels chaotic and unpredictable, Psalm 46 reminds us that we are not alone. The word “refuge” evokes the image of a safe haven—a shelter from the wind, the noise, the battles. It’s where we run when everything else fails.  The phrase “ever-present help” is especially powerful. It doesn’t say God is sometimes available, or occasionally attentive. It says He is always there. Not just in the good times, not just when we remember to pray—but in the thick of trouble, in the silence of despair, in the moments we feel forgotten. Martin Luther’s encounter with Psalm 46 was so profound that it inspired one of the most iconic hymns of the Reformation: “A Mighty Fortress Is Our God”.   God is the sanctuary we seek when the walls of our own strength crumble, when human solutions fall short, and when the noise of the world becomes too loud to bear.  He is the place we fl...

“ Behold, I am the LORD, the God of all flesh. Is anything too hard for me? ” – Jeremiah 32:27 This scripture above is one of audacious declarations of God in the Bible and in many translations the later part of it comes as a question to Jeremiah “Is anything too hard for me?” I particularly like the Contemporary English Version of the Bible rendition which comes as an answer instead of a question  - I am the LORD God. I rule the world, and I can do anything! In our own lives, we often face situations that feel impossible—broken relationships, financial struggles, health crises, or deep emotional wounds. We wrestle with questions, plead for answers, and sometimes wonder if God sees us at all. But Jeremiah 32:27 is God's gentle yet firm reassurance: I am the Lord. I am not limited by what limits you. However you look at it, this verse invites us to shift our gaze from the size of our problems to the greatness of our God. It’s not a denial of hardship—it’s a declaration of hope. ...

Then he brought them out and said, “Sirs, what must I do to be saved?”     And they said, “Believe in the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved, you and your household.”   – Acts 16:30,31 The Philippian jailer in Acts 16 had built his life on order, duty, and discipline. As a Roman official, he was trained to trust in the strength of stone walls, iron bars, and imperial authority.  But in an instant, nature defied structure. The earth itself rebelled against confinement. His physical world—once predictable and fortified—was now unstable, exposed and in shambles. Before the earthquake, the jailer was a man of duty—tasked with keeping prisoners secure, likely indifferent or even hostile to their message. But when the earth shook and the prison doors flew open, his world was upended.   He was ready to take his own life, fearing disgrace or punishment. Imagine the panic: prisoners escape, career ruined, and life on the chopping block. In Roman ...

Acts 16:25,26: About midnight Paul and Silas were praying and singing hymns to God, and the other prisoners were listening to them.  26  Suddenly there was such a violent earthquake that the foundations of the prison were shaken. At once all the prison doors flew open, and everyone’s chains came loose.   Acts 16:25 is a powerful reminder that praise isn’t just for the daylight—it’s for the darkest hours too, it’s also for our midnight hours.    Our midnight hours are the seasons of life when everything feels dark, uncertain, and heavy. Just as midnight is the deepest part of the night, these moments represent our lowest emotional, spiritual, or circumstantial valleys. Midnight worship is the kind of worship that refuses to wait for the morning. It doesn’t demand clarity, comfort, or resolution before lifting its voice. It’s raw, gritty, and bold—a declaration that God is good even when life isn’t. When Paul and Silas sang in that prison ...