New Day With Jesus

And a certain woman, which had an issue of blood twelve years, and had suffered many things of many physicians, and had spent all that she had, and was nothing bettered, but rather grew worse, when she had heard of Jesus, came in the press behind, and touched his garment. For she said, If I may touch but his clothes, I shall be whole. And straightway the fountain of her blood was dried up; and she felt in her body that she was healed of that plague.  Mark 5:25-29 KJV The woman with the issue of blood remains one of Scripture’s most vivid and compelling examples of what it means to speak faith long before seeing any evidence of change. For twelve relentless years she endured isolation, disappointment, and physical suffering. Every doctor failed her. Every treatment drained her resources. Every attempt at recovery left her more discouraged than before. Despite the weight of her circumstances, something within her refused to surrender. A spark of belief—small, quiet, but unbreakab...

“  I am with you and will watch over you wherever you go... I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you.”  – Genesis 28:15 A quiet but unmistakable thread runs through Scripture, steady as a heartbeat, shaping the way God engages with humanity. It’s captured in four simple words: “I am with you.” These words are not scattered randomly or offered casually.  They appear at the precise moments when human strength is stretched thin—when someone is stepping into a calling that feels too heavy, when a life is unraveling, when a nation is displaced, when a prophet is overwhelmed, when a disciple trembles, when the future is clouded by uncertainty. They surface exactly where fear tries to take root. Just as often, these words follow another divine command: “Fear not.” God never says this because the situation is harmless or because fear is irrational. He says it because His presence changes the meaning of the moment. “Fear not” is not a...

You know when I sit and when I rise;     you perceive my thoughts from afar. You discern my going out and my lying down;     you are familiar with all my ways. Before a word is on my tongue     you, Lord, know it completely.  – Psalm 139:2-4 For many of us, words are the tools we use to make sense of who we are. We reach for language to explain ourselves, to defend our choices, to soften our pain, or to hide what feels too vulnerable to expose. We search for the right phrases to express what we feel, or we stumble through sentences hoping someone will understand what we meant rather than what we managed to say. Yet God is not waiting for our eloquence. He is not dependent on our ability to articulate the depths of our hearts. Before a single word forms on our tongues, He already knows it. That truth is profoundly freeing. Freedom From Performance We live in a world that often demands careful present...

 How long, Lord, must I call for help, but you do not listen? Or cry out to you, “Violence!” but you do not save? – Habakkuk 1:2 There are seasons in life when the weight of what we carry presses so heavily on our shoulders that even breathing feels like work. The prayers we whisper—sometimes with trembling lips, sometimes with nothing more than a sigh—seem to evaporate before they reach heaven. The silence around us grows thick, louder than our cries, louder than our longing. God’s presence, once familiar and comforting, feels distant. The heavens feel closed, and the quiet becomes heavier than the struggle itself.   And in that suffocating stillness, a question rises almost without permission: Where is God? Our emotions have a way of amplifying themselves. They don’t ask politely to be heard—they demand it. Fear shouts with urgency, insisting that danger lurks behind every possibility. Anxiety echoes through the corridors of the mind, replaying worst-case scenarios...

Do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well . – Matthew 6:31-33 Life has a way of pulling us in a dozen directions at once. Responsibilities stack up, worries creep in, and before long our hearts feel scattered. Matthew 6:33 is Jesus’ gentle but firm reminder that the center of our lives was never meant to be our anxieties, our ambitions, or even our needs. The center is God Himself. Putting God first isn’t about ignoring the real demands of daily life. It’s about choosing the right starting point. When the kingdom of God becomes our first pursuit—before decisions, before desires, before deadlines—everything else begins to fall into its proper place. Priorities become clearer. Worries lose their grip. Our actions gain purpose. It’s...

For though we walk in the flesh, we do not war according to the flesh.    For the weapons of our warfare are not carnal but mighty in God for pulling down strongholds, casting down arguments and every high thing that exalts itself against the knowledge of God, bringing every thought into captivity to the obedience of Christ – 2 Corinthians 10:3-5 It’s natural to assume that our greatest battles come from the outside—from stressful circumstances, difficult people, or the spiritual pressures we sense in the world around us. Those things are real, and Scripture never denies their impact. But in 2 Corinthians 10:3–5 , Paul makes a startling claim: the primary battleground of spiritual life is not external at all. The real war is fought in the mind. External pressures only gain power when they begin to shape our internal world. Two people can walk through the same storm and emerge with completely different outcomes. Not because the storm chose s...

But now, this is what the Lord says—     he who created you, Jacob,     he who formed you, Israel: “Do not fear, for I have redeemed you;     I have summoned you by name; you are mine. Isaiah 43:1 Jessie Dixon, the beloved Gaither Band singer, was once asked in an interview how he hoped to be remembered when his life on earth was over. Without hesitation, he answered, “he was redeemed.” Redemption, for him, wasn’t an abstract theological concept. It was personal — a rescue, a reclaiming, a declaration that his worth had already been settled by God Himself. To be redeemed means your story is no longer defined by your failures, wounds, or past. It means Someone has stepped into your brokenness and said, “This one is worth saving.” Jessie Dixon understood that deeply. For all his musical gifts and influence, the core of his identity was not performer, singer, or legend — it was redeemed one. ...

31  For who is God besides the Lord? And who is the Rock except our God? 32  It is God who arms me with strength     and keeps my way secure. 33  He makes my feet like the feet of a deer;     he causes me to stand on the heights. -           Psalm 18:31-33 All through the Bible, we see God leads His people from where they are to where they have not yet been. Abraham is called to a land he has never seen. Israel is led out of Egypt toward a promise they can barely imagine. The disciples are invited to leave their nets for a life they could not have planned. God’s movement is always forward, always upward, always toward transformation. Scripture consistently shows God as One who calls His people upward—into greater trust, deeper maturity, wider love, and bolder obedience. “New heights” isn’t about striving; it’s about responding.    Elevation always begins w...

“The second son he named Ephraim and said, “It is because God has made me fruitful in the land of my suffering.” – Genesis 41:52 The story of Joseph is one of Scripture’s most compelling portraits of how God shapes a life through adversity. His journey moves through betrayal, injustice, waiting, and finally restoration—but the thread that holds it all together is a heart that refuses to let pain have the final word. Joseph’s life shows that adversity is not a detour from God’s plan but often the very path through which God forms His servants. From the moment he is thrown into the pit, Joseph enters a season where everything familiar is stripped away. The betrayal of his brothers wounds him not only physically but emotionally, cutting at the core of family trust. Yet even in that moment, God is quietly at work, positioning Joseph for a future he cannot yet imagine. In Potiphar’s house, Joseph faces injustice that could have hardened his spirit. Falsely accused and imprisoned, he ex...

"For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life." - John 3:16 KJV Few songs in the Christian tradition carry the same gentle yet profound resonance as “ Jesus Loves Me, This I Know, For the Bible Tells Me So .” Originally written for children and often introduced in Sunday School classrooms, the song is usually framed as a simple declaration of faith. Yet its simplicity is precisely where its power lies. For years, I have listened to The Barrett Sisters—one of gospel music’s most enduring trios—sing this song. Each time I hear them, it transcends its nursery-rhyme origins and becomes something more: a testimony forged through experience. In their voices, the song sounds less like a child’s lesson and more like a settled conviction shaped by life, loss, and perseverance. The Strength of Simple Truth The lyrics are straightforward: Jesus loves me, this I know. But simplicity does not ...

As I reflect on the new year this morning,  a song stirred deeply in my spirit—one of my cherished Gaither Band favorites. The lyrics say, “ I can’t even walk without You holding my hand .” I found myself playing it over and over this morning, and with each listen, the weight of its message sank in.  The message of this song captures something deeply true about the human experience: we are not designed to navigate life on our own strength. The line “I can’t even work without You holding my hand” paints a picture of complete dependence—not out of weakness, but out of trust. When we try to run ahead of God, life becomes heavier than it needs to be. We worry more, strive more, and often end up exhausted. But when God is first—when His hand is the one guiding, steadying, and strengthening us—everything shifts. Our work becomes worship. Our effort becomes partnership. Our steps become purposeful. Putting God first doesn’t mean we stop working; it means we stop working alone. It mea...