Daily Devotions for Friday, August 21, 2026: When One Season Gives Way to Another

 

The Daily Devotional

Friday, August 21, 2026

When One Season Gives Way to Another

“For everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven.” — Ecclesiastes 3:1

Reflection

Some passages of Scripture become especially meaningful when life reaches a turning point. Ecclesiastes reminds us that our lives unfold in seasons. Some seasons call us to begin something new. Others ask us to persevere. Still others invite us to recognize that a particular work has served its purpose and that God may now be directing our attention somewhere else.

“For everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven.”

Those words are not simply about the passing of time. They are about learning to recognize that faithful living sometimes requires change. We may become comfortable with a particular routine, ministry, responsibility, or pattern of service, but faithfulness does not always mean continuing indefinitely. Sometimes it means asking whether the time has come to invest our energy in another place.

We see this even in ordinary life outside the church.

A farmer may cultivate the same field year after year, but there eventually comes a time when the soil needs rest or when another crop should be planted. Continuing to scatter the same seed simply because it has always been planted there may not be wise stewardship. The farmer does not conclude that planting was a mistake. The harvests of earlier seasons still mattered. Instead, the farmer studies the field, considers the season, and decides where effort and resources can now be used most fruitfully.

Much of Christian life requires that same kind of discernment.

For some time, I have written daily devotionals and Verse of the Day teachings for St. Luke’s, hoping they would provide encouragement, biblical reflection, and spiritual nourishment for members of our congregation and others who encountered them. Writing them has also been meaningful to me because the discipline of opening Scripture each day, studying its context, and considering how it speaks to ordinary life continually deepens my own faith.

At the same time, the readership for these daily writings within St. Luke’s has remained quite small. That does not diminish the value of anyone who has read them, shared them, or found encouragement through them. If even one person has been drawn closer to Christ through something I have written, then the effort has been worthwhile.

But stewardship also means paying attention to where our time and energy may now be most effectively invested.

I am entering another season of theological study as I prepare to pursue a PhD in Biblical Studies. That work will require considerable time for reading, research, writing, language and biblical study, and sustained reflection on Scripture. After considering how best to balance those responsibilities, I have decided to discontinue writing the daily devotionals and Verse of the Day teachings for Ichthus Ministries and devote that time more intentionally to my academic studies.

I do not see this as stepping away from Scripture. In many ways, it is precisely the opposite.

The purpose of biblical study is not simply to accumulate information. Scripture is meant to shape our understanding of God, deepen our relationship with Christ, strengthen the Church, and help us speak faithfully about the hope we have received. Academic study becomes spiritually meaningful when learning leads to wisdom, worship, humility, and service.

There is also an important lesson here for all of us.

We sometimes measure faithfulness by how long we continue doing something. Yet Scripture repeatedly shows people being called from one place of service into another. Abraham left familiar ground. Moses moved from shepherding sheep to leading Israel. The disciples left their nets. Paul traveled from city to city as opportunities for ministry changed.

The question is not always, “How can I keep doing what I have been doing?”

Sometimes the better question is, “Where is God asking me to invest myself now?”

That is a question worth carrying into our own daily lives. Perhaps there is something you have been doing simply because you have always done it. Perhaps there is another opportunity to learn, serve, encourage someone, deepen a relationship, or grow spiritually that deserves more attention.

Not every change represents an ending. Sometimes it represents a redirection.

The daily devotionals may be concluding at Ichthus Ministries, but the study of Scripture continues. The desire to teach continues. The calling to encourage others in the Christian faith continues. What changes is simply where the time and effort will be concentrated during this next season.

Ecclesiastes teaches us that there is “a time for every purpose under heaven.” Wisdom lies partly in recognizing the purpose of the present season.

I am grateful for everyone who has taken the time to read these devotionals and Verse of the Day reflections, and especially for those who have offered encouragement along the way. My hope is that whatever has been helpful in them will continue to bear fruit.

And as one season gives way to another, perhaps the invitation for all of us is the same: to remain attentive to God, faithful in the work placed before us, and willing to follow wherever the next season may lead.

Prayer

Gracious God, you are present with us through every season of our lives. Give us wisdom to recognize when you are calling us to continue, when you are asking us to change direction, and when you are opening a new path before us. Help us to receive every opportunity to learn, serve, and grow as a gift from you. Bless the work that has been completed, guide the work that is beginning, and keep our hearts centered upon Christ so that whatever we do may deepen our faith and become a blessing to others. Lead each of us faithfully through the season before us, trusting that your purposes extend far beyond what we can presently see. Amen.

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Scripture quotations are from the World English Bible Classic (WEB), a public-domain translation. Original devotional content © 2026 Kenny Sallee, ThM. All rights reserved.

Daily Devotions for Thursday, August 20, 2026: When Knowing Christ Becomes Loving Christ

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The Daily Devotional

Thursday, August 20, 2026

When Knowing Christ Becomes Loving Christ

“that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith; to the end that you, being rooted and grounded in love, may be strengthened to comprehend with all the saints what is the width and length and height and depth, and to know Christ’s love which surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God.” — Ephesians 3:17–19

Reflection

Paul’s prayer in Ephesians reaches beyond information. He is not simply asking that believers learn more facts about God, understand more doctrine, or become better able to explain their faith. He prays that Christ may dwell in their hearts through faith and that they may become “rooted and grounded in love.” Then he gives us one of the most beautiful paradoxes in Scripture: that we may “know Christ’s love which surpasses knowledge.”

How can we know something that surpasses knowledge?

Perhaps Paul is reminding us that there are some truths we can understand with the mind but never fully contain within it. The love of Christ can be studied, proclaimed, explained, and defended, but it can never be exhausted. We can spend a lifetime learning about the love of Jesus and still stand before it in wonder.

August 20 offers an interesting historical reminder of this distinction. On this day in 1153, Bernard of Clairvaux died. Bernard was a Cistercian monk, theologian, preacher, and mystic, remembered in the Episcopal Church as a “Monastic and Theologian.” Yet for Bernard, theology was never intended to remain merely an intellectual exercise. His writings repeatedly turned toward love—particularly the soul’s growing love for Christ.

Bernard knew theology, but he also understood that knowing about Christ is not quite the same thing as knowing Christ.

We understand this difference in ordinary relationships.

Imagine someone who has spent years studying the life of a famous musician. They know where the musician was born, every album recorded, every concert tour, every award received, perhaps even what kind of guitar was played on a particular recording. They have photographs, biographies, interviews, and shelves filled with memorabilia.

They may know more facts about that musician than almost anyone.

Yet they have never sat across a table from that person. They have never heard their name spoken in friendship, shared a meal, carried a burden together, or experienced the give-and-take of a real relationship.

They know much about the person without truly knowing the person.

Something similar can happen in the Christian life.

We can learn biblical vocabulary, memorize Scripture, study theology, understand church history, compare interpretations, discuss doctrine, and defend our convictions. None of those things are wrong. In fact, they can be wonderful gifts. Christianity does not ask us to turn off our minds. Careful study can deepen our faith by helping us understand more clearly who God is and what God has done.

The danger appears when knowledge becomes the destination rather than the doorway.

We may become more concerned about being correct than being transformed. Winning an argument may become more important than loving the person standing before us. We can become skilled at explaining grace while becoming increasingly impatient with those who need it.

That is why Paul’s prayer is so important. He does not pray merely that believers will know more. He prays that they will be rooted and grounded in love.

The question, then, is not simply, “How much do I know about Jesus?”

A deeper question is, “Is what I know about Jesus teaching me to love him more?”

Has studying Scripture made me more compassionate?

Has learning about Christ made me more willing to trust him when life becomes uncertain?

Has theological understanding made me more patient with people who see things differently?

Does what I believe about Jesus increasingly shape the way I speak to difficult people, forgive those who have hurt me, notice those who are overlooked, respond to suffering, and serve those who can do nothing for me in return?

And perhaps most deeply: Am I merely learning about the love of Christ, or am I allowing myself to be loved by Christ?

Paul says that Christ’s love “surpasses knowledge” because it cannot finally be reduced to definitions. Christ’s love must be received. It must be trusted. It must be lived within.

We can explain forgiveness, but there comes a moment when we must forgive.

We can study mercy, but eventually we must show mercy.

We can define grace, but sooner or later we must depend upon it.

We can write volumes about the love of Christ, but ultimately we are invited to rest in that love and allow it to change us.

Today, take one truth you already know about Jesus and turn that knowledge into a response.

If you know that Christ is merciful, show mercy.

If you know that Christ forgives, forgive someone.

If you know that Christ welcomes the lonely, notice someone who feels forgotten.

If you know that Christ is faithful, entrust one fear to him.

If you know that Christ loves you, receive that love without trying to earn it.

Perhaps we do not need one more fact about Jesus today as much as we need to live the truth we already know.

The Christian life is not a choice between the mind and the heart. God calls us to love with our whole being. Theology can illuminate the path, but love draws us along it.

And the more deeply we come to know Christ, the more we discover that his love remains wider, longer, higher, and deeper than anything we have yet understood.

We are invited not merely to know about that love, but to dwell within it.

Prayer

Gracious God, deepen both our understanding and our love. Give us minds eager to seek your truth and hearts willing to be transformed by it. Keep our knowledge from becoming pride or mere information, and let Christ dwell more fully within us through faith. Root and ground us in love so that what we believe becomes visible in compassion, humility, obedience, forgiveness, patience, and service. Teach us not merely to know about Jesus, but to know him, trust him, love him, and receive the love that surpasses knowledge. May that love shape the people we are becoming and flow through us into the lives of others. Amen.

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Scripture quotations are from the World English Bible Classic (WEB), a public-domain translation. Original devotional content © 2026 Kenny Sallee, ThM. All rights reserved.

Daily Devotions for Wednesday, August 19, 2026: What the Light Reveals

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The Daily Devotional

Wednesday, August 19, 2026

What the Light Reveals

“Again, therefore, Jesus spoke to them, saying, ‘I am the light of the world. He who follows me will not walk in the darkness, but will have the light of life.’” — John 8:12

Reflection

On August 19, 1839, the French government publicly presented Louis Daguerre’s daguerreotype process to the world. It was one of the earliest practical forms of photography, and it changed forever the way people could preserve faces, landscapes, events, and moments in time. What had once existed only in memory or in the work of an artist could now be captured through a remarkable interaction of chemistry, surface, and light.

That last element is essential.

Photography depends upon light. Without light, there is no image. A camera may be perfectly constructed, the subject may be standing directly before it, and the moment may be worth remembering, but if no light reaches the scene, nothing can be revealed.

Perhaps that is part of what makes photography such a fitting image for the words of Jesus: “I am the light of the world.”

Jesus does not simply say that he carries a light or points toward a light. He says, “I am the light.” His presence changes what can be seen.

We often think of Christ’s light primarily as something that shows us where to walk. Certainly it does. His words guide us, his example directs us, and his Spirit helps us discern the next faithful step. But light does more than show us the road ahead. It also reveals what has been around us all along.

Imagine someone walking outside with a camera near the end of the day. Perhaps it is a place they have seen a thousand times—a familiar yard, a ranch, a neighborhood street, or a stretch of desert beneath distant mountains.

Nothing seems particularly unusual.

Then the sun begins to lower.

Suddenly the weathered boards of an old fence glow with golden light. Dust drifting through the air becomes visible. The wrinkles on an elderly face become lines of character and history. A bird sitting quietly on a fence post becomes a striking silhouette against the sky. Mountains that seemed ordinary an hour earlier become layered in purple and gold.

The photographer raises the camera.

The light has not created any of these things. The fence was already there. The dust was already moving through the air. The mountains had been standing on the horizon all day.

The light simply helped the photographer see them differently.

Christ often works in our lives in much the same way.

His light may reveal beauty we have stopped noticing because we have become too familiar with it. We may suddenly recognize the blessing of a person we have taken for granted, the quiet gift of an ordinary morning, the beauty of a landscape outside our window, or the grace hidden within a routine day.

His light may also reveal truths about ourselves that we would rather leave in the shadows. There may be an attitude that needs changing, a resentment we have carried too long, a habit that is damaging us, or a wound that still needs healing.

Yet Christ’s light is not merely an accusing spotlight. It is the light of life.

Jesus does not illuminate our hearts simply to shame us for what he finds there. He brings things into the light so that they can be healed, transformed, forgiven, and restored. The physician needs light to see the wound. The traveler needs light to find the path. The photographer needs light to reveal what is present. And we need the light of Christ to see our lives truthfully and hopefully.

His light also helps us see people we might otherwise overlook.

There are people standing quietly in the shadows of our communities—someone who is lonely, grieving, discouraged, frightened, or simply unnoticed. Busyness can make them invisible to us. Christ’s light teaches us to look again.

Sometimes discipleship begins not with doing something dramatic, but with seeing someone we had not really seen before.

Today, on a day associated with photography, consider practicing a little spiritual attentiveness.

Look for one ordinary thing touched by light.

It might be sunlight passing through a window, the face of someone you love, a tree casting a long shadow, light falling across an old photograph, or the evening sun touching the landscape.

Pause for a moment and remember the words of Jesus:

“I am the light of the world.”

Then ask yourself:

What might Christ’s light be revealing to me today?

Perhaps there is something beautiful that deserves gratitude.

Perhaps there is something within you that needs to change.

Perhaps there is someone nearby who needs to be noticed.

Perhaps there is a truth you have been afraid to face.

Perhaps there is a path forward that you could not see yesterday.

The Christian life does not promise that darkness will never surround us. There are seasons when the road is uncertain, the future is difficult to imagine, and familiar landmarks seem to disappear.

But Jesus promises something greater than the absence of darkness.

He promises his presence within it.

“He who follows me will not walk in the darkness, but will have the light of life.”

And sometimes that light does more than show us where to go.

Sometimes it reveals what was there all along.

Prayer

Christ, Light of the world, thank you for illuminating our lives with your presence, truth, mercy, and love. Give us attentive eyes to recognize the beauty and grace we too easily overlook, courage to face what your light reveals within us, compassion to notice those who have been left in the shadows, and wisdom to discern the path you place before us. Help us to receive your light not with fear but with hope, trusting that you reveal in order to heal, guide, restore, and give life. May we follow faithfully where you lead and reflect your light gently into the lives of others, grateful that even when darkness surrounds us, your light continues to shine. Amen.

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Scripture quotations are from the World English Bible Classic (WEB), a public-domain translation. Original devotional content © 2026 Kenny Sallee, ThM. All rights reserved.

Daily Devotions for Tuesday, August 18, 2026: When the Wind Is Against the Boat

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The Daily Devotional

Tuesday, August 18, 2026

When the Wind Is Against the Boat

“He said, ‘Come!’ Peter stepped down from the boat and walked on the waters to come to Jesus. But when he saw that the wind was strong, he was afraid, and beginning to sink, he cried out, saying, ‘Lord, save me!’ Immediately Jesus stretched out his hand, took hold of him, and said to him, ‘You of little faith, why did you doubt?’” — Matthew 14:29–31

Reflection

The disciples had been rowing for hours.

They were far from shore, the night was deep, the wind was against them, and the waves were battering the boat. They were not inexperienced travelers. Several of them knew the sea well. Yet skill and experience could not make the wind cooperate. They were tired, vulnerable, and probably wondering how much longer they could keep fighting the water.

Then Jesus came toward them.

He did not first calm the sea. He came through the storm, walking upon the very waters that frightened them. At first, the disciples were even more afraid because they did not recognize him. But immediately Jesus spoke: “Cheer up! It is I! Don’t be afraid.”

Those words are at the heart of this story. Jesus does not say, “There is nothing frightening here.” The wind is real. The waves are real. Their exhaustion is real. Instead, he gives them something greater than an explanation of their circumstances: his presence.

“It is I.”

Before the storm changes, Jesus reveals who is standing in the midst of it.

Christians have long seen the boat as an image of the Church—the people of God traveling together through the troubled waters of the world. This symbolism reaches back into the early centuries of Christianity, when writers such as Tertullian used the boat amid the waves as an image of the Church facing trials and temptations.

That image remains powerful because the Church has never traveled entirely on calm water. Neither do individual Christians.

There are seasons when the wind seems contrary in every direction. Grief comes. Health changes. Relationships become strained. Plans collapse. Culture changes around us. Responsibilities become heavy. Loneliness settles in. We grow tired of rowing against circumstances we cannot control.

Sometimes we may even wonder whether Jesus sees how hard we are pulling at the oars.

Matthew’s answer is unmistakable: he does. And he comes toward the boat.

Then Peter does something remarkable. He says, “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the waters.”

Peter is sometimes remembered mainly for sinking, but we should not overlook what happens before that. Peter does not leap overboard merely to prove his courage. He waits for Jesus to speak.

And Jesus says, “Come!”

There is an important difference between reckless self-confidence and faithful discipleship. Recklessness says, “I can do this.” Faith says, “If Christ is calling me, I will follow.”

Peter wants to go where his Teacher is going. That is the heart of discipleship. A disciple does not merely admire the Teacher from the safety of the boat. A disciple learns to follow.

Imagine driving along a dark highway when a sudden heavy rain reduces visibility to almost nothing. You cannot see your destination. You cannot see several miles down the road. Your headlights reveal only the next short stretch of pavement and the lane markers immediately ahead.

You do not overcome the storm by pretending it is not there. You slow down, pay attention, keep your hands steady, and travel the road you can see.

Faith often works that way.

Christ rarely shows us the whole journey. Sometimes all we hear is one word:

Come.

Take the next step. Make the phone call. Offer forgiveness. Keep praying. Show up again tomorrow. Continue caring for the person who needs you. Speak truth gently. Keep serving. Keep loving. Keep rowing.

Peter steps onto the water—and for a moment, he walks toward Jesus.

Then he notices the wind.

The storm that was present before suddenly becomes larger in his vision than the Christ standing before him. Fear takes hold, and Peter begins to sink.

But perhaps Peter’s next action is one of the purest prayers in Scripture:

“Lord, save me!”

There is no polished language. No theological explanation. No attempt to rescue himself.

And Matthew gives us one beautiful word: “Immediately.”

“Immediately Jesus stretched out his hand, took hold of him.”

Jesus does not stand at a distance and lecture Peter while he disappears beneath the waves. The hand of Christ reaches toward the frightened disciple.

That matters for us.

Faithful Christians sometimes become frightened. Faithful Christians sometimes grow weary. Faithful Christians sometimes look at the wind instead of Christ. Faithful Christians sometimes feel themselves sinking.

Our hope is not that we will always walk perfectly upon the water.

Our hope is that the hand of Christ is stronger than the waves beneath us.

What wind is against you today? What circumstance has become so large in your vision that you are struggling to recognize Christ’s presence?

Listen again for his voice: “Don’t be afraid.”

Then ask what faithful step he is calling you to take.

It may not be spectacular. Faithfulness often looks more like continuing to row than walking on water. It may simply mean continuing to pray, continuing to love, continuing to serve, continuing to hope, or taking one more faithful step when you are tired and afraid.

The Christian promise is not that every sea will remain calm.

It is that the risen Christ still comes to his people upon the water. He still speaks into our fear. He still calls disciples to follow. He still reaches toward those who are sinking.

And he will not abandon his boat in the storm.

Prayer

Lord God, when the winds are against us and the waves seem stronger than our strength, give us courage to trust your presence. Help us recognize Christ when fear and confusion make him difficult to see, and give us wisdom to distinguish faithful obedience from reckless self-reliance. Strengthen all who are weary from rowing against the storms of grief, illness, uncertainty, loneliness, conflict, disappointment, and circumstances beyond their control. When any among us feel themselves sinking, reach out your merciful hand and hold them fast. Teach us as your people to remain together in the boat, encouraging one another, praying for one another, serving one another, and continuing faithfully toward the shore to which you call us. Keep our eyes upon Jesus Christ, who comes to us even upon troubled waters and whose presence is greater than every storm. Amen.

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Scripture quotations are from the World English Bible Classic (WEB), a public-domain translation. Original devotional content © 2026 Kenny Sallee, ThM. All rights reserved.

Daily Devotions for Monday, August 17, 2026: When Temporary Things Become Ultimate Things

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The Daily Devotional

Monday, August 17, 2026

When Temporary Things Become Ultimate Things

“Then I looked at all the works that my hands had worked, and at the labor that I had labored to do; and behold, all was vanity and a chasing after wind, and there was no profit under the sun.” — Ecclesiastes 2:11

Reflection

Ecclesiastes speaks with the voice of someone who has looked carefully at life and refused to pretend that everything lasts. The writer surveys achievement, pleasure, possessions, wisdom, labor, wealth, and success and discovers something unsettling: none of them can hold forever. Even the things we build with our own hands eventually pass into someone else’s care, fall into disrepair, or disappear altogether. “All was vanity,” he says, “and a chasing after wind.”

The word vanity can sound as though Ecclesiastes is accusing us of pride or selfishness. But the image is closer to breath or vapor—something real, something we can see for a moment, yet something we cannot hold. Think of your breath on a cold morning. For a few seconds it appears before you, and then it is gone. Ecclesiastes tells us that much of life “under the sun” is like that. It matters, but it does not remain.

That distinction is important.

The writer is not telling us that work is worthless, that possessions are evil, or that enjoying life is somehow unspiritual. Ecclesiastes itself repeatedly speaks of eating, drinking, working, and receiving life with gratitude. The problem begins when we ask temporary things to give us what only the eternal God can provide.

Imagine someone who has spent years restoring an old automobile. Every Saturday morning he is in the garage. He carefully washes it, polishes the chrome, keeps the engine tuned, replaces worn parts, and makes certain that every detail is just right. When sunlight strikes the paint, the car gleams. He has every reason to enjoy it. There is nothing wrong with appreciating something beautiful that has been cared for well.

Then one afternoon a severe hailstorm moves through.

Within minutes, the hood is dented, the roof is damaged, and the windshield is cracked.

The tragedy is not that he loved the car. The danger would be if the car had become the foundation of his identity. If his sense of worth, permanence, or significance depended upon keeping that automobile perfect, then the storm damaged far more than metal and glass.

That is where Ecclesiastes presses gently but firmly against our hearts.

We do the same thing with many other parts of life. We build careers and assume our position will always matter. We maintain homes as though they will never decay. We save money as though enough of it could guarantee tomorrow. We treasure photographs because we want to preserve moments that cannot actually be held still. We seek recognition, titles, accomplishments, or influence, only to discover that another generation eventually comes along that may know little about what once seemed so important to us.

Even our bodies remind us of this truth. Strength changes. Hair grays. Faces wrinkle. The work that once came easily may someday require help from someone else.

Ecclesiastes does not tell us this to make us despair. It tells us so that we can finally stop asking temporary things to carry eternal weight.

A house can provide shelter, but it cannot give us eternal security. A career can provide useful work, but it cannot tell us who we ultimately are. Money can meet many needs, but it cannot guarantee peace. Relationships are among God's greatest gifts, but even the people we love cannot take God's place in the deepest chambers of the heart.

When temporary things become ultimate things, they eventually disappoint us because they were never created to bear that burden.

But something beautiful happens when those same temporary things are received in relationship with God.

The meal cooked tonight will soon be eaten and forgotten, yet preparing it in love can become an act of service. The fence repaired today may someday need repairing again, yet the work can be done faithfully and gratefully. Caring for an animal, tending a garden, washing dishes, writing a letter, visiting someone who is lonely, doing an honest day's work, or helping a neighbor may appear ordinary and temporary. Yet when these things are offered to God in love, gratitude, and faithfulness, they participate in something larger than themselves.

Faith does not require us to escape ordinary life. Faith teaches us how to live ordinary life before God.

Perhaps that is one of Ecclesiastes' greatest gifts. It frees us to enjoy things without worshiping them. We can love people without demanding that they satisfy every need of our hearts. We can appreciate possessions without letting possessions possess us. We can work diligently without believing that our accomplishments determine our worth. We can enjoy today without pretending that today will last forever.

So ask yourself: What am I asking to give me lasting meaning that was never created to carry that weight?

What temporary thing have I begun treating as though it were permanent?

And how might I receive the ordinary things of today as gifts rather than foundations for my identity?

Choose one ordinary thing today—a responsibility, a possession, a relationship, or even a simple chore—and consciously place it before God. Give thanks for it. Care for it faithfully. Enjoy it if it brings joy. Serve through it if it allows you to serve. But refuse to make it the measure of your worth.

Ecclesiastes reminds us that much of what we chase “under the sun” will eventually disappear. That truth need not make life meaningless. Instead, it can make life freer.

We no longer have to build eternity out of things that were designed only for a season.

We can enjoy what God places in our hands without desperately trying to keep it forever. We can care for what we have, share it generously, and release it when its season has passed. Temporary things can become meaningful gifts when they lead us toward gratitude rather than possession, faithfulness rather than anxiety, and God rather than ourselves.

Everything under the sun is temporary.

But the One who gives us each day is not.

Ecclesiastes calls us beyond what fades toward the God who remains.

Prayer

Eternal God, teach us to recognize the difference between the gifts You place in our hands and the foundation upon which our lives must rest. Forgive us when we ask possessions, accomplishments, relationships, recognition, or circumstances to provide the security and meaning that can come only from You. Help us receive the ordinary things of this day with gratitude, care for them faithfully, enjoy them without clinging to them, and use them in love and service. Give us grace to find holiness in simple responsibilities and eternal purpose in lives quietly offered to You. When the things around us change or pass away, anchor our hearts in Your steadfast presence, and lead us from what is temporary toward what is eternal. Amen.

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Scripture quotations are from the World English Bible Classic (WEB), a public-domain translation. Original devotional content © 2026 Kenny Sallee, ThM. All rights reserved.