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June 2 Devotional: The Paradox of Spiritual Poverty Scripture: “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” — Matthew 5:3 We live in a world that prizes self-sufficiency. The strong, the capable, the confident—these are the ones we celebrate. But Jesus begins His most famous sermon with a startling reversal: blessed are the poor in spirit. Not the strong. Not the put-together. But the spiritually bankrupt. To be “poor in spirit” means to recognize our complete and utter dependence on God. It is the confession that we bring nothing to the table except our need. No moral résumé. No spiritual leverage. Nothing in our hands we bring. This isn’t self-hatred. It’s truth-telling. And it’s the only starting point for grace. Why? Because the kingdom of heaven isn’t earned—it’s given. And only empty hands can receive it. In the world’s economy, poverty is a disadvantage. But in the economy of the gospel, spiritual poverty is a doorway. It clears the ground for grace. It uproots pride. It dethrones self. It makes room for a Savior. And that’s why the poor in spirit are truly blessed. Because they know what we all must learn: the kingdom belongs not to those who try hard enough, but to those who finally give up trying to save themselves. Reflection: Where am I still trying to prove myself before God? What would it look like to come to Him empty-handed today? Prayer: Lord, help me to see the truth about myself—that apart from You I have nothing, and in You I have everything. Teach me to cling to Your grace, not my goodness. Make me poor in spirit, so I might truly inherit the riches of Your kingdom. Amen.

June 3 Devotional: The Paradox of Spiritual Poverty Scripture: “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” — Matthew 5:3 We live in a world that prizes self-sufficiency. The strong, the capable, the confident—these are the ones we celebrate. But Jesus begins His most famous sermon with a startling reversal: blessed are the poor in spirit. Not the strong. Not the put-together. But the spiritually bankrupt. To be “poor in spirit” means to recognize our complete and utter dependence on God. It is the confession that we bring nothing to the table except our need. No moral résumé. No spiritual leverage. Nothing in our hands we bring. This isn’t self-hatred. It’s truth-telling. And it’s the only starting point for grace. Why? Because the kingdom of heaven isn’t earned—it’s given. And only empty hands can receive it. In the world’s economy, poverty is a disadvantage. But in the economy of the gospel, spiritual poverty is a doorway. It clears the ground for grace. It uproots pride. It dethrones self. It makes room for a Savior. And that’s why the poor in spirit are truly blessed. Because they know what we all must learn: the kingdom belongs not to those who try hard enough, but to those who finally give up trying to save themselves. Reflection: Where am I still trying to prove myself before God? What would it look like to come to Him empty-handed today? Prayer: Lord, help me to see the truth about myself—that apart from You I have nothing, and in You I have everything. Teach me to cling to Your grace, not my goodness. Make me poor in spirit, so I might truly inherit the riches of Your kingdom. Amen.

June 4 Devotional: The Strength of the Gentle Scripture: “Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.” — Matthew 5:5 If there’s one word that seems out of place in a world driven by power, image, and assertion, it’s meek. To many, meekness looks like weakness—a failure to assert oneself, to win, to take what’s yours. But in the vocabulary of Jesus, meekness is not weakness. It is strength under control. Biblical meekness is not timidity or passivity. It’s the settled strength of someone who knows their identity isn’t rooted in performance or pride, but in grace. The meek are those who don’t have to push their way to the front, because they know the One who holds the future is already at work on their behalf. This is the paradox of the gospel: The ones who refuse to seize power are the ones to whom the world truly belongs. The meek don’t inherit the earth by conquest, but by trust. They let go of self-assertion because they know that God is their defender, provider, and reward. We don’t become meek by trying harder to be humble—we become meek by looking to the One who was meek. Jesus didn’t shout to make His point, didn’t crush His enemies, didn’t grasp at glory. He laid down His rights, and in doing so, He secured a kingdom. And He invites us to follow in His steps. Reflection: Where in my life am I tempted to grasp for control or recognition? What would it mean to surrender that place to God and trust Him instead? Prayer: Father, teach me the way of meekness. Free me from the need to prove myself. Help me to trust that You will give me what I need, in Your time and in Your way. Make me gentle like Jesus, and let that gentleness speak louder than my striving. Amen.

June 5 Devotional: The Appetite of the Soul Scripture: “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied.” — Matthew 5:6 We all know what hunger feels like. It is persistent. It distracts us, drives us, demands to be satisfied. Jesus chooses this image—not of casual interest, but of intense longing—to describe the heart of someone who truly seeks God’s righteousness. But what kind of righteousness are we to hunger for? This is not self-righteousness. It is not the hunger to be better than others, nor a thirst to prove ourselves. It is the ache for things to be made right—in our hearts, in our communities, and in the world. It’s a longing to be in right relationship with God, to be changed from the inside out, and to see justice and mercy take root in a broken world. We live in a culture that tries to satisfy spiritual hunger with fast food substitutes—achievement, pleasure, image, power. They promise fullness, but leave us emptier than before. Jesus says the truly blessed are those who refuse to settle. Who hunger for more. Who long not just for a better version of themselves, but for the deep, soul-level righteousness that only God can provide. And the promise? They will be satisfied. Not might be. Will be. Not because of their hunger alone, but because the One who makes the promise is also the One who fills. The Bread of Life. The Living Water. He satisfies not with religious performance, but with Himself. Reflection: What am I truly hungering and thirsting for right now? In what ways am I trying to satisfy my soul apart from Christ? Prayer: Lord, awaken in me a deeper hunger for You. Not for success, not for self-improvement, but for Your righteousness—Your goodness, Your justice, Your grace. And as I hunger, teach me to feast on the only food that satisfies: Your presence, Your Word, Your love. Amen.

June 6 Devotional: The Cycle of Mercy Scripture: “Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy.” — Matthew 5:7 Mercy doesn’t come naturally to us. We live in a culture of performance and payback—where people get what they deserve, and grace feels foreign. But Jesus flips that script. In His kingdom, it’s not the powerful, not the deserving, but the merciful who are called blessed. Mercy, at its heart, is compassion in action. It’s not merely feeling sorry for someone—it’s stepping into their pain. It’s forgiveness offered when it’s not earned. Help extended when it’s not required. Mercy is costly, because it means absorbing wrong without returning it. It means seeing people not just for what they’ve done, but for what grace can make them. So where does that kind of heart come from? It doesn’t begin with us. We show mercy because we’ve been shown mercy. When we realize how deeply we've been forgiven—how God met us not in our goodness, but in our need—it melts our pride and softens our judgment. Mercy received becomes mercy given. This beatitude isn’t a transaction, like “be merciful so you’ll get mercy.” It’s more of a rhythm, a cycle of grace. Those who truly experience God’s mercy cannot help but extend it. And in living that way, they find themselves continually renewed by it. The more we show mercy, the more we understand how much we still need it—and the more we lean into the One who gives it freely. Reflection: Who in my life needs mercy from me—not because they deserve it, but because I’ve received it? Do I find it easier to demand justice from others than to receive grace for myself? Prayer: Merciful Father, You have not treated me as my sins deserve. You have forgiven, restored, and welcomed me again and again. Help me to be a vessel of that same mercy. Make me slow to judge, quick to forgive, and eager to extend compassion—even when it costs me. Amen.

June 9 Devotional: Seeing with a Clear Heart Scripture: “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.” — Matthew 5:8 Purity of heart can sound like a distant ideal, something reserved for the saintly or the naïve. But Jesus isn't talking about moral perfection or external cleanliness. He’s describing a heart with singular focus—a heart undivided. To be pure in heart means to live without duplicity. It means not saying one thing and desiring another. It’s a heart aligned with God, not just in actions, but in loves. It’s about what we treasure when no one is watching. What we long for. What we worship. This kind of purity doesn’t come from trying harder. It comes from grace doing surgery on our desires. The gospel doesn’t just cleanse our record—it begins to reorder our affections. What once charmed us loses its grip. What once bored us—God’s beauty, His holiness, His presence—becomes the deepest source of joy. And the promise? They shall see God. Not just one day in eternity, but now. In glimpses. In the Scriptures. In answered prayers. In the quiet work of the Spirit within us. The pure in heart begin to see God not because they’ve earned access, but because their eyes are no longer distracted by lesser things. God isn’t hiding. But impurity clouds our vision. When our hearts are cleansed by His grace and captivated by His love, we begin to see clearly—and nothing compares to the sight of Him. Reflection: What competes for the attention and affection of my heart? Am I more focused on external appearance than on internal integrity? Prayer: God, create in me a pure heart. Cleanse the clutter of my soul—the rival loves, the hidden motives, the divided loyalty. Fix my eyes on You so that I may see You more clearly, love You more deeply, and follow You more faithfully. Amen.

June 10 Devotional: The Fierce Beauty of Peace Scripture: Matthew 5:9 "Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God." A Wild Peace We live in a world at war. Not just the kind with armies and missiles. I’m talking about the war for your heart. The battle that rages daily in your relationships, in your soul, in your marriage, your friendships, and even in your own mind. The world tells you to protect yourself. To harden. To withdraw. To retaliate. But Jesus? He calls us into something far more courageous. "Blessed are the peacemakers..." Not peacekeepers. Not avoiders. Not the nice guys who don’t want to rock the boat. No, Jesus calls us to make peace. That’s active. That’s bold. That’s fiercely loving. And it costs something. To make peace, you have to enter the chaos. You have to wade into broken stories, into places where trust has eroded, where fear has ruled. You have to offer your presence—your whole heart—not as a fixer, but as a bringer of shalom. That Hebrew word for peace—it means wholeness, restoration. It's the peace that heals wounds and restores what’s been lost. But here's the wild, beautiful twist: peacemakers are called children of God. Why? Because they resemble their Father. You see, God is not passive. He doesn't stand at a distance. He entered the war zone for you. Through the cross, He made peace by sacrificing Himself, not demanding from others. And now, He invites you to carry that same heart into your world. Not to avoid conflict, but to redeem it. This is not for the faint of heart. But you weren’t made to be fainthearted. Reflection Questions Where in your life right now is God calling you to be a peacemaker rather than a peacekeeper? What relationships in your life feel broken or strained? How might God be inviting you to step in with courage and compassion? Are there places where you’ve chosen comfort over courage? What would it look like to show up with your whole heart? How does knowing you're a child of God empower you to pursue restoration? A Prayer for the Brave Peacemaker Father, I confess that peace can sometimes feel like a distant hope. It’s easier to avoid, to numb out, to walk away. But You didn’t walk away from me. Give me Your heart, Lord—the heart of a peacemaker. Teach me to love boldly. To step into tension with humility, to speak truth with gentleness, and to stay when it would be easier to run. Remind me that I am Your child, and that wherever I go, I carry Your peace. Not because I have it all figured out, but because You live in me. Make me brave, Father. And make me whole. Amen.

June 11 Devotional: The Blessing in Suffering Scripture: Matthew 5:10 "Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven." The Cost of Following Jesus There’s a kind of quiet shock that comes when we read this verse. Blessed are those who are persecuted...? That’s not the kind of blessing we typically think of, is it? We imagine blessings as good health, opportunities, promotions, and peaceful days. But Jesus flips the script. He says blessed are those who are persecuted. Not the ones who are celebrated. Not the ones who win all the arguments. Not the ones who get the shiny, happy moments. No, Jesus looks at those who suffer for doing the right thing, who stand for justice when it costs them, who choose righteousness when everyone else compromises—and He calls them blessed. This is hard to hear, especially when we live in a world that worships comfort and success. We often think of blessings as things that make our lives easier, not harder. And yet, Jesus promises that there’s a deep, soul-level blessing for those who face trials because of their faithfulness to Him. But there's something else in this verse that should stir your soul: theirs is the kingdom of heaven. This isn't just some future reward to look forward to in the afterlife. The kingdom of heaven isn’t just about heaven when we die; it’s about the here and now too. It’s a kingdom of presence, of God's reign and rule breaking into our lives right now. It’s a kingdom where the last will be first, where the humble are exalted, where the broken are made whole. The kingdom is present, even in the midst of our struggles. When we are persecuted for righteousness, we are showing that we belong to this upside-down kingdom. And in that moment of suffering, we are brought closer to the heart of Jesus, who Himself endured persecution, rejection, and death for our sake. Reflection Questions Have you ever experienced persecution or suffering for standing up for what’s right? How did it make you feel in the moment? What does it look like for you to live righteously in a world that sometimes feels hostile toward those who follow Jesus? Do you ever feel like following Jesus should be easier? How do you reconcile the suffering that can come with the call to follow Him? How can you better embrace the kingdom of heaven in your life right now, even in difficult or painful circumstances? A Prayer for Strength in Persecution Jesus, You didn’t promise us an easy life. In fact, You promised us hardship. But You also promised that in the midst of that hardship, You would be with us. Today, I bring my suffering, my frustrations, and my fears to You. Whether it’s small moments of rejection or deep, painful persecution, I ask for Your strength. Help me to live righteously, even when it’s hard. Even when it feels like no one understands. Even when I’m tempted to give up. Remind me that You were persecuted, too. And yet, You endured for the joy set before You. May I, too, live with an eternal perspective, knowing that the kingdom of heaven is already breaking in. Give me the courage to stand firm in my faith, and the grace to endure the suffering that may come with it. Amen.

June 12 Devotional: The Light and Salt of the World Scripture: Matthew 5:13-16 "You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled by men. You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead, they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven." A Radical Call to Influence In these verses, Jesus gives us two metaphors—salt and light—that carry profound implications for how we are to live in the world. Notice that Jesus doesn’t tell us to become salt or light. He says we are salt and light. It’s not an aspirational goal; it’s an identity. This is foundational to understanding what Jesus is calling us to. We are not passive observers in the world; we are active participants, bringing something into the world that wasn’t there before. Just as salt preserves and enhances flavor, and light illuminates and guides, we are called to bring the presence of Christ into every corner of society. Salt of the Earth Salt, in the ancient world, was a preservative. Without refrigeration, it was the primary way of preserving food. But in this context, Jesus is calling us to be a moral preservative. We are to act as agents of restraint in a world that is constantly pulling toward decay and destruction. Salt also enhances flavor. Our lives—shaped by the Gospel—should be distinct in the world. When we live according to the Kingdom of God, our lives should taste different to the world around us, creating a longing for something more, something better. But there’s a warning: salt can lose its saltiness. If it loses its effectiveness, it’s good for nothing. In the same way, our witness can become ineffective if we blend too much into the culture around us or if we cease to be distinct. Our identity as salt is to make the world better, to slow down the moral decay. But if we stop influencing, we are rendered useless. Light of the World Light is perhaps even more crucial in a world where darkness prevails. Imagine being in a pitch-black room. The smallest light is a beacon. Jesus says we are that light. We are not meant to hide it. Our lives—through the good deeds we do in His name—are supposed to point people to God. In the same way that a city on a hill cannot be hidden, our lives should be visible, directing others toward Christ. But there’s an even deeper point. Light doesn’t exist for itself. The purpose of light is to shine, to illuminate, to make things visible. In the same way, we don’t live for our own glory, but for the glory of God. When we do good deeds, it’s not to build our own reputations, but to point to the Father. Reflection Questions Salt and Distinction: Are you living a life that is distinct from the world around you? How does your faith influence your decisions, relationships, and work? Salt Losing Saltiness: Is there an area in your life where you feel you’ve lost your distinctiveness or effectiveness? What might God be calling you to do in that area? Being a Light: When was the last time you let your faith shine visibly before others? Is there an opportunity to step into a role that lets your light shine for the glory of God? Good Deeds and Glory to God: How do your actions, both in public and private, point people toward God? Do you see good deeds as opportunities to glorify Him? A Prayer for Light and Salt Father, Thank You for calling me to be salt and light in a world that desperately needs both. I confess that I often shrink back from standing out, from living distinctively. I can sometimes lose my saltiness by blending into the culture or focusing too much on my own comfort. Forgive me for the times I’ve hidden my light. Help me to live boldly, in a way that points others to You. May my good deeds reflect Your goodness, Your justice, and Your love. Empower me to be a preservative in this world, to slow down decay wherever I see it, and to shine Your light in the darkest places. May my life bring glory to You, not to myself, and may I be faithful in this calling. In the name of Jesus, who is the true Light of the world, Amen.

June 13 Devotional: The Heart of Righteousness Scripture: Matthew 5:17-20 "Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them. For truly I tell you, until heaven and earth disappear, not the smallest letter, not the least stroke of a pen, will by any means disappear from the Law until everything is accomplished. Therefore anyone who sets aside one of the least of these commands and teaches others accordingly will be called least in the kingdom of heaven, but whoever practices and teaches these commands will be called great in the kingdom of heaven. For I tell you that unless your righteousness surpasses that of the Pharisees and the teachers of the law, you will certainly not enter the kingdom of heaven." The Fulfillment of the Law Jesus makes a stunning declaration here: He did not come to abolish the Law or the Prophets but to fulfill them. This is a critical moment in the Gospel because it reshapes how we approach the entirety of Scripture. Jesus is not dismantling the Old Testament; He is completing it, bringing it to its intended conclusion. The law, with all its commandments and prohibitions, was never meant to be an end in itself. It pointed forward to something greater—someone greater. Jesus is that fulfillment. Every command, every prophecy, every ritual in the Old Testament finds its meaning, purpose, and completion in Him. This is important for us to grasp because sometimes we view the Old Testament as "outdated" or "irrelevant." But Jesus tells us that every part of the law—down to the smallest detail—is important. It still matters because it finds its ultimate purpose in Him. The Old Testament isn’t just history; it’s a mirror that reflects God’s holiness and points us to the Savior. Righteousness Beyond the Surface But then Jesus challenges us to look deeper. He warns that unless our righteousness exceeds that of the Pharisees and the teachers of the law, we will not enter the kingdom of heaven. The Pharisees were the epitome of religious observance. They followed the rules meticulously. But Jesus cuts through the surface and exposes the true issue: righteousness isn’t about external behavior alone; it’s about the condition of your heart. You can follow all the rules and still miss the point. In fact, the Pharisees were so focused on outward compliance that they neglected the heart of the law—love, mercy, justice, humility. This is where it gets real for us. Jesus doesn’t lower the bar of righteousness; He raises it. The law isn’t simply a list of dos and don’ts. It’s a call to a transformed life—a life that reflects the heart of God. Righteousness that surpasses the Pharisees’ isn’t about trying harder to follow the rules; it’s about a deeper transformation that only comes through Christ. It’s about letting the law become a mirror to show us our need for a Savior, and then allowing Him to change us from the inside out. The Struggle of the Heart Let’s be honest: this is a struggle. It’s easy to fall into the trap of thinking that if we just check all the boxes, we’re good. We don’t lie. We don’t cheat. We go to church. We give. We serve. But if we’re not careful, we can start to believe that these outward actions are enough. We can easily miss the deeper reality that Jesus is calling us into. The truth is, it’s easy to follow rules when they’re just external guidelines. It’s harder when we begin to realize that God is after something more—He’s after our hearts. He’s after our desires, our motives, our affections. He’s calling us not just to a change in behavior, but to a change in who we are. If we’re honest with ourselves, this is a difficult calling. The Pharisees’ righteousness was about external conformity, but Jesus wants an internal transformation. He doesn’t want us to be rule-keepers; He wants us to be heart-changed people. He wants our lives to reflect His love and mercy, not just our ability to obey. Reflection Questions The Fulfillment of the Law: How does understanding that Jesus is the fulfillment of the Law change your view of both the Old and New Testaments? How can this deepen your relationship with God? Righteousness Beyond the Surface: Are there areas of your life where you’re simply going through the motions, following the rules but neglecting the deeper heart transformation? What do you need to bring before God today? Heart Over Behavior: In what ways does your righteousness fall short of the heart God desires? How might God be inviting you into a deeper, more authentic walk with Him? The Call to True Obedience: How can you move beyond external rule-keeping and allow the Gospel to transform your heart and motives? What’s one area in your life where God is calling you to deeper obedience? A Prayer for True Righteousness Father, Thank You for the gift of Your law, which points us to our need for a Savior. Thank You for fulfilling the law through Jesus, and for inviting us to live in the freedom that He brings. I confess that I often settle for outward righteousness—following rules, checking boxes, and missing the deeper work You want to do in my heart. I want a righteousness that isn’t just skin-deep, but one that reflects the very heart of who You are. Change me, God. Purify my heart. I want to obey because I love You, not because I have to. I want my life to reflect Your mercy, justice, and love, not just my ability to follow the rules. Help me to go beyond mere behavior and embrace the transformation You desire to work within me. May my life truly reflect Your glory. In Jesus’ name, Amen.