Scripture: Joshua 3:5, 13 “…tomorrow the Lord will do wonders among you… as soon as the soles of the feet of the priests… rest in the waters, the waters shall be cut off.” There are moments when God calls you to move before anything looks possible. Joshua 3 gives us a picture of faith that doesn’t wait for evidence—it steps into obedience and trusts God to show Himself faithful. The priests were told to walk toward a flooded river during harvest season, when the Jordan was at its highest and most impossible. Their job was not to part the waters. Their job was to step. Many breakthroughs in your life will follow the same pattern. Miracles are often activated by movement, not certainty. God asks for obedience while the river is still rising. He asks you to trust Him while the outcome is still invisible. He invites you to step before anything shifts. The priests didn’t see the miracle until their feet touched the water. That first step was the hardest—because it required faith in the face of impossibility. But the moment they moved, God moved. The waters didn’t part mid-river. They parted at the step. Your river may look like fear, lack, confusion, transition, insecurity, or a decision that feels bigger than you. But God has not asked you to part the waters. He has asked you to move toward obedience and trust Him with what happens next. He specializes in making a way where one hasn’t existed before. Stepping doesn’t mean having the whole path figured out. It means moving with what you know. It means acting on the last instruction God gave you. It means refusing to wait for conditions to be perfect before you obey. When you step, heaven responds. God told Joshua, “Tomorrow the Lord will do wonders among you.” But the wonders were unlocked by movement. The priests’ feet carried the faith that activated the miracle. The same is true for you. As you step, God moves and opens paths. You may not feel ready. You may not feel strong. But obedience is not about how you feel—it is about who you trust. God goes before you, stands with you, and makes a way for you.

Scripture: James 4:8 “Draw near to God, and He will draw near to you.” Intimacy with God doesn’t happen by accident. It grows through small, consistent returns—moments where you pause, turn your attention toward Him, and let your heart breathe again in His presence. Many believers think intimacy is something they have to earn, feel, or sustain perfectly. But Scripture gives a simple promise: if you draw near, He responds. It is not complicated. It is not conditional on how well you have been doing. It is an invitation rooted in His nature, not your performance. The gap you sometimes feel between you and God is rarely about distance; it is usually about attention. Your spirit is wired for nearness. But your mind gets crowded, your emotions get stirred, and your habits get noisy. When life pulls your focus outward, intimacy feels far away. But the moment you turn inward toward Him—even for a breath—His presence becomes clear again. Drawing near is not only for the moments when you feel spiritual. It is especially for the moments when you feel disconnected, distracted, or unworthy. God never asked you to wait until you feel close before coming close. He simply said come. Consistent small returns create a lifestyle of intimacy. It may be pausing for 30 seconds to acknowledge Him. Whispering His name as you walk. Sitting still for one quiet moment. Reading one verse slowly. Breathing deeply and saying, “Here I am, Lord.” The enemy wants you to believe these small moments don’t matter. But heaven sees them as movement toward God. And every step toward God is answered. Intimacy doesn’t require spiritual perfection—it requires spiritual honesty. God meets you in reality, not performance. When you come to Him as you are, rather than who you think you should be, intimacy becomes natural instead of forced. Over time, consistent returns reshape your inner world. You begin recognizing His voice more easily. Your reactions soften. Your mind rests. Your confidence deepens. You stop striving for closeness and begin living from it. What once felt distant begins to feel like home.