Genesis 39:7–12 Just when life feels steady and things seem to be going well, temptation often appears—not loudly, but persistently. Joseph’s story reminds us that faithfulness does not remove temptation; in fact, it can sometimes invite it. Joseph was honouring God and stewarding what had been entrusted to him. Yet day after day, he faced the same pressure, the same invitation to compromise. The enemy did not attack Joseph in his weakness, but in his strength—when success and favour might have tempted him to lower his guard. Scripture warns us that our adversary prowls around, looking for an opportunity. When we begin to trust our circumstances, our success, or our sense of security more than we trust God, our focus quietly shifts. Prosperity can become a false refuge if it draws our eyes away from the One who sustains us. Joseph chose obedience, even when it cost him. Though his circumstances turned against him, his heart remained anchored in God. What looked like loss became the very place where God continued His work, shaping Joseph for purposes far beyond what he could see. Today, whatever lies before you—success or struggle—keep your trust rooted in God’s plan, not your circumstances. He is faithful to redeem even the hardest moments and to work all things for good in the lives of those who trust Him.

Have you ever read a story in the Bible and thought, God… You could’ve picked someone else? I feel that way sometimes when I read about Lot. God knew how everything would turn out, and yet He still rescued him. And the truth is — it wasn’t because Lot was faithful. It was because God made a promise to Abraham, and He keeps His covenants even when people don’t. Lot’s whole attitude shows a man who struggled to trust God. When the angels arrived, he tried to protect them in his own strength. When destruction was coming, he lingered. He had to be dragged out of Sodom. Even after being rescued, Lot had left Sodom but Sodom wasn’t fully out of him. And yet… God was patient. Lot was told to flee to the hills, but he asked for something else — a little city called Zoar. And God, in mercy, agreed. He waited until Lot reached Zoar before judgment fell. Even then, Lot didn’t stay. Fear moved him again, and he ended up living in a cave — and the story only grows more heartbreaking from there. Lot’s journey is one ruled by fear rather than faith. Fear caused him to doubt God’s protection. Fear caused him to cling to alternatives. Fear caused him to step away from the very places God said were safe. And the consequences were devastating. But here’s what this story reminds me of: God’s patience is bigger than our fear. God’s faithfulness is stronger than our hesitation. God’s mercy reaches further than we think. Lot may not be the hero we expect… but he reveals a God who keeps His promises, even with people who stumble and struggle to obey. His story is a warning about living by fear — but also a witness to God’s relentless grace. Maybe the real question is this: Where am I still moving in fear instead of faith? And what might God be patiently rescuing me from even now?

God speaks in ways we expect — through gentle whispers, quiet scriptures, and moments of peace. But sometimes He speaks in ways that shake us awake. In Scripture, hair is often a symbol of identity and dedication. God numbers every strand, honours grey hair as a crown, and even uses it to teach spiritual truth. But in Ezekiel 8, God does something startling. He takes hold of the prophet by his hair and lifts him between earth and heaven. It wasn’t cruelty. It wasn’t random. It was a divine act loaded with meaning. Ezekiel was being pulled out of ordinary perspective and placed into God’s. The Spirit seized him because what God needed him to see required total attention, total surrender, and a vantage point no human could reach on their own. Suspended between heaven and earth, Ezekiel was shown the hidden reality of Jerusalem — the idolatry taking place inside the Temple, the spiritual corruption that no one wanted to admit, and the things God could no longer overlook. The dramatic way he was lifted matched the seriousness of what he was about to witness. Sometimes God brings us into moments like that. He touches something tender, something symbolic, something personal — not to shame us, but to reveal truth we’ve been blind to. Not to wound us, but to let us see from His perspective. Ezekiel’s hair, usually a sign of dedication, became the very point God used to draw him close. In the same way, God often speaks to us through the things most connected to our identity — our work, our relationships, our gifts, even our weaknesses. He takes hold of what matters to us in order to show us what matters to Him. And what He reveals is never meant to crush us. It’s meant to bring us back. To expose what’s harming our hearts. To confront what’s stealing worship. To call us out of compromise and into holiness again. God lifts us — sometimes gently, sometimes dramatically — so we can see the truth and return to Him fully.

Rainbows dance across the sky, their colours in perpetual motion. They glimmer in beauty, the colours on full display for all the earth. Secrets they hide, whispers of a love that never ends— a promise that never fails. Red, the colour of the blood shed for me. Orange, the last throes of the sun sinking into rest. Yellow, the whisper of dawn welcoming a new day. Green, the tender leaves that spring forth new life. Blue, the oceans deep and full of mysteries. Indigo, the night sky scattered with ancient stars. Violet, the colour of a king. A promise from You of love, redemption, and purpose. The truth behind the rainbow speaks of a Saviour’s love, a Father’s compassion, a covenant that still stands. Yet without the sun, where is the rainbow? Hidden in white light— waiting. It is only the prism of the Father’s love that brings the colours to life. So beautiful… not a pot of gold, but a promise that never fades, never weakens, never breaks— a promise that always leads us home.

The white flakes fall from the sky, each one a doily of perfection— patterns unique, crafted by the Maker, beautiful, delicate, no two alike. They drift to the earth, a soft carpet of white, dancing in the breeze as they float along. Who has eyes to see the hidden beauty in each flake— revealed only to those given sight? As I ponder each crystal, its wonder and design, I see Your love woven through them, the same love You have for all You have created. The whole earth shouts with the beauty of Your creation, hidden until You open our eyes to see. Let me grasp, let me capture the beauty of Your love— Your creation, Your secrets, revealed in Your time. Those who seek Your beauty will find it endlessly awaiting discovery. How can we not see Your love, Your skill, Your very being in all You have made? “Where is your God?” they ask— He is in the beauty and in the ferocity of the storm, sometimes silent, sometimes crying out to be seen. Marvel at the beauty of God in His creation. Search for Him, and He will be found.