Resolute Podcast

Welcome to The Daily, where we study the Bible verse by verse, chapter by chapter, every day. Read more about Project23 and partner with us as we teach every verse of the Bible on video. Our text today is Judges 21:24-25. And the people of Israel departed from there at that time, every man to his tribe and family, and they went out from there every man to his inheritance. In those days there was no king in Israel. Everyone did what was right in his own eyes. — Judges 21:24-25 We've reached the final words of the Book of Judges, and they sting with truth: "Everyone did what was right in his own eyes." It's a haunting refrain that sums up an entire generation that forgot God. They had the covenant, the law, and the land—but they abandoned the Lord who gave it all. This wasn't just a national problem—it was a personal one. Each man, each family, each leader turned inward and made his own truth. They didn't reject God outright—they simply replaced Him with self-rule. And that is the ultimate definition of rebellion. We see the same story unfolding today. People still do what is right in their own eyes. We redefine truth, rebuild idols, and rewrite morality—and then dance in the streets celebrating that we have "No King." We glorify rebellion as freedom, and self-rule as enlightenment, forgetting that the absence of God's authority always ends in moral collapse. But the story doesn't have to end this way. Judges ends in darkness—but it points to the dawn. From this chaos would come a King—first Saul, then David, then Solomon, and finally Jesus—the true King who reigns in righteousness. He doesn't just judge the world; He redeems it. So as we close this book, let's not repeat Israel's mistake. Let's remember the Lord—His Word, His ways, His works. Let's be people who live by conviction, not convenience; who follow truth, not trends; who walk by faith, not sight. To everyone who's walked through Judges with us—thank you. You've faced hard truths and found God's mercy in the middle of them. My prayer is that this journey has stirred your faith and strengthened your resolve to follow Him. Take this truth into your homes, churches, workplaces, and nation. Don't live as if there is no King—live as if your King is coming soon. If you've been part of this series, leave your first and last name, city, and state in the comments below. Let's celebrate what God has done and commit together to live differently. ASK THIS: How has the Book of Judges challenged my view of faith and obedience? In what ways have I done what is right in my own eyes? How can I help my family remember the Lord in daily life? What does living under the reign of King Jesus look like for me this week? DO THIS: Take time to reflect on what God taught you through Judges. Write one takeaway you want to carry into the next season of life. Share this series with a friend who needs to rediscover God's truth. PRAY THIS: Lord, thank You for the lessons of Judges. Help me remember You when the world forgets. Keep me from doing what is right in my own eyes and lead me to walk faithfully in Yours. You are my King, my Judge, and my Redeemer. Amen. PLAY THIS: "King of My Heart."

Welcome to The Daily, where we study the Bible verse by verse, chapter by chapter, every day. Read more about Project23 and partner with us as we teach every verse of the Bible on video. Our text today is Judges 21:21-23. If the daughters of Shiloh come out to dance in the dances, then come out of the vineyards and snatch each man his wife from the daughters of Shiloh, and go to the land of Benjamin. And when their fathers or their brothers come to complain to us, we will say to them, 'Grant them graciously to us, because we did not take for each man of them his wife in battle, neither did you give them to them, else you would now be guilty.'" And the people of Benjamin did so and took their wives, according to their number, from the dancers whom they carried off. Then they went and returned to their inheritance and rebuilt the towns and lived in them. — Judges 21:21-23 Israel found a way to move on—but not to make it right. They buried the mess instead of confessing it. What started as a battle for justice ends in a festival of deception and abduction. It's a tragic cover-up wrapped in religious ceremony. They thought the problem was solved, but nothing was healed. They won the battle, but lost thousands of brothers. Their sin was buried—but not gone. When we bury sin, it doesn't disappear; it festers. We might hide it beneath success, busyness, or excuses, but buried sin always resurfaces. It's like sweeping dirt under the carpet—sooner or later, someone lifts the rug, and everything hidden spills out. We do this all the time. We ignore the conflict instead of confronting it. We hide our struggles instead of confessing them. We mask pain with performance, hoping time will heal what only repentance can restore. But here's the truth: you can't bury what God wants to heal. Israel needed confession, not cover-up. They needed repentance, not rationalization. And so do we. If you've been burying something—anger, bitterness, guilt, or sin—it's time to uncover it before God. Confession doesn't expose you to shame; it opens you to grace. God can only heal what you bring into the light. So lift the rug. Let God sweep the room clean. Don't live with lumps under your life—bring them to the One who can make all things new. ASK THIS: What sin or issue have I been hiding instead of confessing? Have I mistaken covering up sin for moving on? What "carpets" in my life need to be lifted before God? How can I create space for honesty and healing this week? DO THIS: Ask God to reveal anything you've been burying in your heart. Stop sweeping things under the rug—let grace do the cleaning. PRAY THIS: Lord, I've hidden what You want to heal. Expose my heart with Your light. Help me confess what I've buried and receive Your grace instead of guilt. Don't let me live with sin under the carpet—cleanse me completely. Amen. PLAY THIS: "Come to the Altar."

Welcome to The Daily, where we study the Bible verse by verse, chapter by chapter, every day. Read more about Project23 and partner with us as we teach every verse of the Bible on video. Our text today is Judges 21:16-20. Then the elders of the congregation said, "What shall we do for wives for those who are left, since the women are destroyed out of Benjamin?" And they said, "There must be an inheritance for the survivors of Benjamin, that a tribe not be blotted out from Israel. Yet we cannot give them wives from our daughters." For the people of Israel had sworn, "Cursed be he who gives a wife to Benjamin." So they said, "Behold, there is the yearly feast of the Lord at Shiloh, which is north of Bethel, on the east of the highway that goes up from Bethel to Shechem, and south of Lebonah." And they commanded the people of Benjamin, saying, "Go and lie in ambush in the vineyards and watch. — Judges 21:16-20 Israel is trapped in a cycle of compromise. They made one foolish vow, then another plan to fix the fallout, and now they're crafting another workaround to solve the mess they created. They're solving a spiritual problem with sinful logic. It's a dangerous pattern: one bad decision leads to another. And instead of repenting, Israel rationalizes. They think their cleverness will fix what only God's grace can heal. We've all done this. Maybe it's a bad business decision that we try to cover with another risky one—hoping to fix our losses instead of facing our mistakes. Or maybe it's a spiritual shortcut: compromising truth to keep peace, lying to protect reputation, or bending God's Word to justify our behavior. The deeper we dig, the more we sink. This is the danger of human reasoning apart from divine guidance. When we try to solve sin with sin, we multiply destruction. The Israelites thought they were preserving the nation, but they were only proving how far they'd drifted from God. This passage reminds us why we need a Righteous Judge. Because left to ourselves, we'll always judge wrongly. We justify what God condemns and condemn what God forgives. But there is One who judges rightly—Jesus Christ. He alone can make sense of our chaos and turn our regret into redemption. You can face His judgment now—through repentance and faith—or later—by your own unrighteousness. The choice is yours. Today, if you've been living on your own logic, lay it down. Ask Jesus to be your Lord and Savior. Let His righteousness cover your wrongs and guide your next decision. ASK THIS: Where have I tried to fix a spiritual problem with human reasoning? What's one area where I need to stop rationalizing and start repenting? How can I invite Jesus into my decision-making today? Do I trust His righteousness more than my logic? DO THIS: Identify one area where you've been solving problems without God's guidance. If you've never surrendered your life to Jesus, do it today. PRAY THIS: Lord, forgive me for trying to fix spiritual problems with sinful logic. Help me to stop leaning on my understanding and start trusting Your wisdom. I surrender to Your righteous judgment and receive the grace You offer through Jesus Christ. Amen. PLAY THIS: "Jesus, Have It All."

After 1960, America didn't just experience cultural drift—it experienced legal formation. SUMMARY:  Over the last sixty years, a series of landmark legal decisions quietly reshaped America's moral framework—moving the nation away from historic Christian convictions on life, marriage, sexuality, and authority. These shifts didn't just change laws; they retrained conscience. And if the law has been forming minds, the church can no longer afford to stay silent. 

Welcome to The Daily, where we study the Bible verse by verse, chapter by chapter, every day. Read more about Project23 and partner with us as we teach every verse of the Bible on video. Our text today is Judges 21:13-15. Then the whole congregation sent word to the people of Benjamin who were at the rock of Rimmon and proclaimed peace to them. And Benjamin returned at that time. And they gave them the women whom they had saved alive of the women of Jabesh-gilead, but they were not enough for them. And the people had compassion on Benjamin because the Lord had made a breach in the tribes of Israel. — Judges 21:13-15 Israel finally shows compassion—but it's a compassion built on tolerance, not truth. They pity the Benjamites, the very tribe they destroyed, but their compassion leads to compromise. They offer peace while perpetuating the very rebellion that tore the nation apart. This is tolerant compassion—a mercy that ignores righteousness. It feels good in the moment, but erodes conviction over time. It's a love that refuses to speak the truth, fearing rejection more than rebellion. We see this same pattern today. Our culture preaches compassion without boundaries. We're told to affirm rather than confront, to love without leading, to sympathize without speaking truth. And too often, the Church imitates it. Take one example: modern parenting. Out of love, some parents avoid disciplining their kids, afraid of hurting their feelings or damaging the relationship. They mistake permissiveness for grace. But in doing so, they create confusion instead of character. Compassion without correction always leads to collapse. The same is true in our faith. When we tolerate what God calls sin, we're not showing love—we're abandoning it. True compassion tells the truth even when it costs us something. Real love doesn't lower the standard; it leads others toward it. God's compassion never compromises His holiness, and neither should ours. The most loving thing we can do is to speak truth with grace, extend mercy with conviction, and love others enough to call them toward repentance. Don't settle for tolerant compassion. Be the kind of believer who loves with both courage and clarity. ASK THIS: Have I mistaken tolerance for compassion in my relationships? What's one area where I've avoided truth to keep peace? How can I show compassion without compromising conviction? Who needs to experience both grace and truth from me today? DO THIS: Identify one area where you've tolerated sin instead of confronting it. Pray for courage to speak truth in love this week. PRAY THIS: Lord, help me to love like You—full of grace and truth. Give me compassion that doesn't compromise and courage that doesn't condemn. Let my mercy lead others to Your righteousness. Amen. PLAY THIS: "Build My Life."

Welcome to The Daily, where we study the Bible verse by verse, chapter by chapter, every day. Read more about Project23 and partner with us as we teach every verse of the Bible on video. Our text today is Judges 21:8-12. And they said, "What one is there of the tribes of Israel that did not come up to the Lord to Mizpah?" And behold, no one had come to the camp from Jabesh-gilead, to the assembly. For when the people were mustered, behold, not one of the inhabitants of Jabesh-gilead was there. So the congregation sent 12,000 of their bravest men there and commanded them, "Go and strike the inhabitants of Jabesh-gilead with the edge of the sword; also the women and the little ones. This is what you shall do: every male and every woman that has lain with a male you shall devote to destruction." And they found among the inhabitants of Jabesh-gilead 400 young virgins who had not known a man by lying with him, and they brought them to the camp at Shiloh, which is in the land of Canaan. — Judges 21:8-12 Israel acts again—but this time, their "solution" becomes another sin. They justify violence against Jabesh-gilead in the name of the Lord. They think they're defending God's honor, but they're only protecting their pride. They're fighting in God's name, but not His way. This is what happens when holy causes lack holy character. When our zeal for righteousness outweighs our humility before God, we end up doing more harm than good. We can fall into the same trap. We correct our kids, our spouse, our coworkers—even fellow believers—with truth, but without grace. We demand compliance, not conviction. Take parenting, for example. We may demand respect but do it with the wrong tone and from the wrong heart. We call it discipline, but sometimes it's really control. We want peace in the home, but we're seeking comfort, not character. We want change, but not through compassion. When we correct without compassion, we create scars instead of growth. The words may be true, but they wound because they weren't spoken from love. The Israelites thought they were defending holiness, but they were only displaying hypocrisy. They were right about God's standards—but wrong about His heart. God doesn't just care about what we do; He cares about how we do it. If truth is our sword, then love must be our handle—or else we cut people we were meant to heal. So check your tone. Examine your heart. The goal isn't compliance—it's Christlike character. Don't fight in God's name without living in His way. ASK THIS: When have I fought for a good cause but in the wrong way? How does my tone reveal my heart in conflict or correction? Where might I be seeking compliance instead of compassion? How can I reflect both truth and love in my leadership or parenting? DO THIS: Ask a loved one how your tone impacts them—then listen with humility. When you feel righteous anger, slow down and seek God's heart before reacting. PRAY THIS: Lord, help me fight for truth without losing Your heart. Teach me to correct with compassion, to lead with humility, and to love like You. When I'm tempted to fight in Your name, remind me to walk in Your way. Amen. PLAY THIS: "God, Turn It Around."

Welcome to The Daily, where we study the Bible verse by verse, chapter by chapter, every day. Read more about Project23 and partner with us as we teach every verse of the Bible on video. Our text today is Judges 21:4-7. And the next day the people rose early and built there an altar and offered burnt offerings and peace offerings. And the people of Israel said, "Which of all the tribes of Israel did not come up in the assembly to the Lord?" For they had taken a great oath concerning him who did not come up to the Lord to Mizpah, saying, "He shall surely be put to death." And the people of Israel had compassion for Benjamin their brother and said, "One tribe is cut off from Israel this day. What shall we do for wives for those who are left, since we have sworn by the Lord that we will not give them any of our daughters for wives?" — Judges 21:4-7 Israel's problem deepens. They made a vow in anger, and now they're bound by it. They're trying to clean up their mess while making it worse. Their words sounded spiritual—"We've sworn by the Lord"—but they were driven by emotion, not discernment. This is what happens when Passion Proceeds Prayer. Their zeal outpaced their wisdom. They acted out of impulse instead of insight, and the result was pain. Passion Proceeds Prayer when we react instead of reflect, when we speak instead of seek, and when we move before we meditate on God's Word. They vowed something God never asked of them, and now they're trapped by their own words. How often do we do the same? We make promises in the heat of emotion—swearing we'll never speak to someone again, or vowing to fix something in our own strength—without first consulting God. We act out of guilt, fear, or pride and call it conviction. Here's the danger: a vow made in haste can become a chain that binds us for years. God calls us to wisdom, not impulse. Proverbs 19:2 reminds us, "Desire without knowledge is not good, and whoever makes haste with his feet misses his way." We rush into commitments—relationships, ministries, purchases, or words—because it feels right in the moment. But faith isn't about feeling; it's about following. God's Spirit leads through patience and prayer, not panic and pride. If you've made promises without wisdom, you don't have to stay trapped by them. Bring them to God. He's not waiting to condemn you—He's ready to redeem your mistakes. The cross of Christ covers not only our sins, but also our rash decisions. Today, slow down. Seek His will. Let your next vow be this: "Lord, I will wait for Your wisdom before I move." ASK THIS: When was the last time I made a decision without praying first? What promises or commitments might God be asking me to revisit? Do I trust God's timing enough to wait for His direction? How can I grow in patience before I act or speak? DO THIS: Take five minutes before every major decision this week to pause and pray for wisdom. Write out one hasty vow or promise you've made and surrender it to God. PRAY THIS: Lord, forgive me for the promises I made without Your wisdom. Teach me to pause, pray, and wait for Your leading. Give me patience that listens and faith that follows Your timing, not my emotion. Amen. PLAY THIS: "Wait On You."

Welcome to The Daily, where we study the Bible verse by verse, chapter by chapter, every day. Read more about Project23 and partner with us as we teach every verse of the Bible on video. Our text today is Judges 21:1-3. Now the men of Israel had sworn at Mizpah, "No one of us shall give his daughter in marriage to Benjamin." And the people came to Bethel and sat there till evening before God, and they lifted up their voices and wept bitterly. And they said, "O Lord, the God of Israel, why has this happened in Israel, that today there should be one tribe lacking in Israel?"  — Judges 21:1-3 Israel weeps. They mourn the destruction they caused, but their tears are not repentance—they're regret. They're not asking, "What did we do wrong?" but "How did this happen?" The difference may seem small, but it's everything. Regret is sorrow over consequences. Repentance is sorrow over sin. Israel doesn't confess their rebellion or seek God's direction. They simply grieve what they've lost, not what they've done. We do the same thing. We cry over the fallout but ignore the cause. We mourn broken marriages, fractured friendships, or spiritual dryness—but we rarely look inward at the pride, anger, or idolatry that caused it. Here are a few reasons why we avoid dealing with the heart of our sin: Pride. We don't want to admit we were wrong. Shame. We believe our sin defines us. Fear. We're scared of what repentance might cost. Control. We still want to manage the situation instead of surrendering it. Comfort. We prefer the illusion of peace over the pain of change. But regret doesn't bring freedom—repentance does. Regret keeps you chained to the past, while repentance opens the door to grace. The only way out is through confession, humility, and faith in Jesus. So say it with me: I'm done with regret. I'm done living in sorrow that never changes me. I'm done replaying my mistakes while ignoring the Savior who redeems them. Jesus didn't just die for your sin—He died for your shame, your guilt, and every ounce of regret you still carry. If you're tired of replaying the pain and ready to be renewed, it's time to stop asking "why" and start asking "what now, Lord?" In the comments below, share your step toward repentance—your decision to confess, turn from sin, and trust in the grace of Jesus. He's not done with you yet. And if today you're ready to move beyond regret, I want to invite you to take a simple step of faith—type "I'm done with regret" in the comments below as a public declaration. Let that phrase be your line in the sand, your confession that you're turning from sin and coming home to the grace of Jesus, who died for both your sin and your shame. ASK THIS: Am I more upset about the consequences of sin or the sin itself? What has regret kept me from fully surrendering to God? Which of the five reasons above do I relate to most? What would real repentance look like for me today? DO THIS: Write down one area where regret has replaced repentance—and confess it to God. Say it out loud: I'm done with regret. Then walk in that truth today. PRAY THIS: Lord, I've spent too long living in regret instead of repentance. Search my heart, expose my sin, and lead me to the freedom that only comes through Jesus. Today I declare, I'm done with regret. Thank You for dying for both my sin and my shame. I surrender it all to You. Amen. PLAY THIS: "Because He Lives."

Welcome to The Daily, where we study the Bible verse by verse, chapter by chapter, every day. Read more about Project23 and partner with us as we teach every verse of the Bible on video. Our text today is Judges 20:45-48. And they turned and fled toward the wilderness to the rock of Rimmon. Five thousand men of them were cut down in the highways. And they were pursued hard to Gidom, and 2,000 men of them were struck down. So all who fell that day of Benjamin were 25,000 men who drew the sword, all of them men of valor. But 600 men turned and fled toward the wilderness to the rock of Rimmon and remained at the rock of Rimmon four months. And the men of Israel turned back against the people of Benjamin and struck them with the edge of the sword, the city, men and beasts and all that they found. And all the towns that they found they set on fire.  — Judges 20:45-48 The last verses of Judges 20 are heartbreaking. Israel wins the battle—but loses its brother. Towns are burned. Families destroyed. A tribe nearly erased. What began as justice ends in devastation. When believers battle believers, no one wins. The body of Christ turns on itself, and the mission suffers. What remains are ashes, regret, and a broken witness to a watching world. This is the cost of church hurt and hypocrisy. When pride replaces grace and division replaces love, we scorch the very ground we were called to cultivate. The fire spreads—from one wound to another—until the family of faith looks no different from the world. But this isn't where God's story ends. Jesus came to heal what sin burned down. Through his cross, he made peace between us and God—and between each other. Where the sword once divided, his blood now unites. The gospel restores what pride destroys. If you've been hurt by the church or by another believer, Jesus invites you to come home. He knows your pain. He was betrayed, abandoned, and denied by those closest to him—and still he forgave. Healing starts when we stop swinging and start surrendering. Lay down your sword. Stop fighting other believers and start following Jesus. He is the only one who can turn ashes into beauty, division into unity, and hurt into healing. ASK THIS: Have I been part of a conflict that hurt another believer? How has church hurt or hypocrisy affected my faith or witness? What relationships need reconciliation in my life today? Have I brought my wounds to Jesus for healing—or just carried them? DO THIS: Reach out to someone you've been divided from and start the conversation toward peace. Pray for those who've hurt you instead of rehearsing the pain. PRAY THIS: Jesus, heal the wounds we've caused and the ones we carry. Forgive us for fighting our brothers and sisters when we should have fought for unity. Restore Your Church, beginning with me. Make me an instrument of peace and healing today. Amen. PLAY THIS: "O Come To The Altar."

Welcome to The Daily, where we study the Bible verse by verse, chapter by chapter, every day. Read more about Project23 and partner with us as we teach every verse of the Bible on video. Our text today is Judges 20:29-44. So Israel set men in ambush around Gibeah. And the people of Israel went up against the people of Benjamin on the third day and set themselves in array against Gibeah, as at other times. And the people of Benjamin went out against the people and were drawn away from the city. And as at other times they began to strike and kill some of the people in the highways, one of which goes up to Bethel and the other to Gibeah, and in the open country, about thirty men of Israel. And the people of Benjamin said, "They are routed before us, as at the first." But the people of Israel said, "Let us flee and draw them away from the city to the highways." And all the men of Israel rose up out of their place and set themselves in array at Baal-tamar, and the men of Israel who were in ambush rushed out of their place from Maareh-geba. And there came against Gibeah 10,000 chosen men out of all Israel, and the battle was hard, but the Benjaminites did not know that disaster was close upon them. And the Lord defeated Benjamin before Israel, and the people of Israel destroyed 25,100 men of Benjamin that day. All these were men who drew the sword. So the people of Benjamin saw that they were defeated. The men of Israel gave ground to Benjamin, because they trusted the men in ambush whom they had set against Gibeah. Then the men in ambush hurried and rushed against Gibeah; the men in ambush moved out and struck all the city with the edge of the sword. Now the appointed signal between the men of Israel and the men in the main ambush was that when they made a great cloud of smoke rise up out of the city the men of Israel should turn in battle. Now Benjamin had begun to strike and kill about thirty men of Israel. They said, "Surely they are defeated before us, as in the first battle." But when the signal began to rise out of the city in a column of smoke, the Benjaminites looked behind them, and behold, the whole of the city went up in smoke to heaven. Then the men of Israel turned, and the men of Benjamin were dismayed, for they saw that disaster was close upon them. Therefore they turned their backs before the men of Israel in the direction of the wilderness, but the battle overtook them. And those who came out of the cities were destroying them in their midst. Surrounding the Benjaminites, they pursued them and trod them down from Nohah as far as opposite Gibeah on the east. Eighteen thousand men of Benjamin fell, all of them men of valor.  — Judges 20:29-44 After fasting and prayer, Israel finally wins. The Lord gives them victory. But something tragic happens—they can't stop fighting. What began as justice turns into vengeance. Their zeal for righteousness becomes a weapon of destruction. In this moment, we see the warning that convictions become cruelty when they're not guided by compassion. They were right to battle sin—but wrong to lose self-control. In their fury, they slaughter not just the guilty but entire towns. Passion without restraint turns purity into pride, and conviction without compassion becomes cruelty. We can do the same thing. We can fight for truth so hard that we forget to love people. We can defend doctrine but destroy relationships. We can win the argument but lose the soul. Zeal for God is beautiful—but when it's unrestrained by the Spirit, it becomes dangerous. Paul himself once persecuted believers in the name of zeal before God transformed his heart (Phil. 3:6). Even righteous causes can become unrighteous if they're not led by humility. Think of it like conflict in your relationships—you might be right, but if you fight to win instead of fighting to love, everyone loses. The goal isn't victory—it's reconciliation. The same is true in faith, leadership, and culture. This story is a warning: God wants warriors who fight with conviction, not cruelty. His people must learn restraint in victory as well as perseverance in defeat. Because sometimes, the hardest test of faith isn't how you handle loss—it's how you handle winning. ASK THIS: When have I let zeal turn into harshness? How can I fight for truth without becoming self-righteous? Do I celebrate victories with humility or pride? How can I show mercy while standing firm in conviction? DO THIS: Ask God to show you one area where conviction has turned into cruelty. Before engaging in a heated issue—pause, pray, and ask: "Am I fighting to prove a point or to reflect Christ?" PRAY THIS: Lord, thank You for teaching me that conviction without compassion becomes cruelty. Help me fight with conviction but finish with love. Give me zeal that burns for Your glory, not my pride. Amen. PLAY THIS: "Same God."

Welcome to The Daily, where we study the Bible verse by verse, chapter by chapter, every day. Read more about Project23 and partner with us as we teach every verse of the Bible on video. Our text today is Judges 20:29-44. So Israel set men in ambush around Gibeah. And the people of Israel went up against the people of Benjamin on the third day and set themselves in array against Gibeah, as at other times. And the people of Benjamin went out against the people and were drawn away from the city. And as at other times they began to strike and kill some of the people in the highways, one of which goes up to Bethel and the other to Gibeah, and in the open country, about thirty men of Israel. And the people of Benjamin said, "They are routed before us, as at the first." But the people of Israel said, "Let us flee and draw them away from the city to the highways." And all the men of Israel rose up out of their place and set themselves in array at Baal-tamar, and the men of Israel who were in ambush rushed out of their place from Maareh-geba. And there came against Gibeah 10,000 chosen men out of all Israel, and the battle was hard, but the Benjaminites did not know that disaster was close upon them. And the Lord defeated Benjamin before Israel, and the people of Israel destroyed 25,100 men of Benjamin that day. All these were men who drew the sword. So the people of Benjamin saw that they were defeated. The men of Israel gave ground to Benjamin, because they trusted the men in ambush whom they had set against Gibeah. Then the men in ambush hurried and rushed against Gibeah; the men in ambush moved out and struck all the city with the edge of the sword. Now the appointed signal between the men of Israel and the men in the main ambush was that when they made a great cloud of smoke rise up out of the city the men of Israel should turn in battle. Now Benjamin had begun to strike and kill about thirty men of Israel. They said, "Surely they are defeated before us, as in the first battle." But when the signal began to rise out of the city in a column of smoke, the Benjaminites looked behind them, and behold, the whole of the city went up in smoke to heaven. Then the men of Israel turned, and the men of Benjamin were dismayed, for they saw that disaster was close upon them. Therefore they turned their backs before the men of Israel in the direction of the wilderness, but the battle overtook them. And those who came out of the cities were destroying them in their midst. Surrounding the Benjaminites, they pursued them and trod them down from Nohah as far as opposite Gibeah on the east. Eighteen thousand men of Benjamin fell, all of them men of valor.  — Judges 20:29-44 After fasting and prayer, Israel finally wins. The Lord gives them victory. But something tragic happens—they can't stop fighting. What began as justice turns into vengeance. Their zeal for righteousness becomes a weapon of destruction. In this moment, we see the warning that convictions become cruelty when they're not guided by compassion. They were right to battle sin—but wrong to lose self-control. In their fury, they slaughter not just the guilty but entire towns. Passion without restraint turns purity into pride, and conviction without compassion becomes cruelty. We can do the same thing. We can fight for truth so hard that we forget to love people. We can defend doctrine but destroy relationships. We can win the argument but lose the soul. Zeal for God is beautiful—but when it's unrestrained by the Spirit, it becomes dangerous. Paul himself once persecuted believers in the name of zeal before God transformed his heart (Phil. 3:6). Even righteous causes can become unrighteous if they're not led by humility. Think of it like conflict in your relationships—you might be right, but if you fight to win instead of fighting to love, everyone loses. The goal isn't victory—it's reconciliation. The same is true in faith, leadership, and culture. This story is a warning: God wants warriors who fight with conviction, not cruelty. His people must learn restraint in victory as well as perseverance in defeat. Because sometimes, the hardest test of faith isn't how you handle loss—it's how you handle winning. ASK THIS: When have I let zeal turn into harshness? How can I fight for truth without becoming self-righteous? Do I celebrate victories with humility or pride? How can I show mercy while standing firm in conviction? DO THIS: Ask God to show you one area where conviction has turned into cruelty. Before engaging in a heated issue—pause, pray, and ask: "Am I fighting to prove a point or to reflect Christ?" PRAY THIS: Lord, thank You for teaching me that conviction without compassion becomes cruelty. Help me fight with conviction but finish with love. Give me zeal that burns for Your glory, not my pride. Amen. PLAY THIS: "Same God."

Welcome to The Daily, where we study the Bible verse by verse, chapter by chapter, every day. Read more about Project23 and partner with us as we teach every verse of the Bible on video. Our text today is Judges 20:26-28. Then all the people of Israel, the whole army, went up and came to Bethel and wept. They sat there before the Lord and fasted that day until evening, and offered burnt offerings and peace offerings before the Lord. And the people of Israel inquired of the Lord (for the ark of the covenant of God was there in those days, and Phinehas the son of Eleazar, son of Aaron, ministered before it in those days), saying, "Shall we go out once more to battle against our brothers, the people of Benjamin, or shall we cease?" And the Lord said, "Go up, for tomorrow I will give them into your hand." — Judges 20:26-28 Something changes here. After two crushing defeats, Israel finally hits bottom. This time they don't just cry—they fast. They don't just speak—they sacrifice. They don't just ask God for permission—they seek presence. This is the turning point of the entire chapter. Their breakdown becomes the moment of breakthrough. They finally humble themselves—not to win a war, but to be right with God. This is where we see the truth that brokenness leads to breakthrough in action—the moment hearts yield, heaven moves. Sometimes we want God to fix our circumstances without fixing our hearts. We want him to change our marriage, our finances, our friendships—but not our pride. We want peace without repentance and victory without surrender. But God's breakthrough always begins with breakdown. He doesn't bless arrogance; He honors humility. When we fast, pray, and repent, we realign our hearts to his will, not ours. Think of it like this: in a struggling marriage, both spouses may pray for change, but until one person decides to lay down pride—to listen, confess, and forgive—nothing changes. The same is true in our faith. God doesn't move through prideful hearts, but through broken ones. If you're longing for breakthrough today, stop fighting for control and start surrendering your heart. God isn't holding back your victory—He's waiting for your surrender. Breakdown leads to breakthrough every time. ASK THIS: What area of my life needs both repentance and renewal? Am I fasting or praying for results, or to be closer to God? Where have I been asking for breakthrough but resisting surrender? What would humility look like in my relationships today? DO THIS: Choose one day this week to fast and pray for humility before God. Write out a prayer of confession, asking God to reveal areas of pride or resistance. PRAY THIS: Lord, thank You for using my breakdowns to draw me closer to You. I surrender my pride, my plans, and my pace. Help me find breakthrough not by pushing harder but by bowing lower. Amen. PLAY THIS: "Broken Vessels (Amazing Grace)."

Welcome to The Daily, where we study the Bible verse by verse, chapter by chapter, every day. Read more about Project23 and partner with us as we teach every verse of the Bible on video. Our text today is Judges 20:22-25. But the people, the men of Israel, took courage, and again formed the battle line in the same place where they had formed it on the first day. And the people of Israel went up and wept before the Lord until the evening. And they inquired of the Lord, "Shall we again draw near to fight against our brothers, the people of Benjamin?" And the Lord said, "Go up against them." So the people of Israel came near against the people of Benjamin the second day. And Benjamin went against them out of Gibeah the second day, and destroyed 18,000 men of the people of Israel. All these were men who drew the sword. — Judges 20:22-25 Israel tries again. They pray and weep. This time it looks more spiritual. But still, there's no real repentance. They ask, "Should we go again?"—not, "Lord, what have we done wrong?" They confuse emotion with surrender. Their tears are real, but their pride is intact. God isn't after their sadness—He's after their submission. The phrase "sorrow isn't surrender" sums up Israel's problem and often ours too—emotion without repentance never changes the outcome. And so they lose again. Another 18,000 die. Why? Because feeling bad isn't the same as turning back. God allows defeat until their hearts are truly humbled. This is how pride disguises itself in our lives. We tell God we're sorry for the consequences but hold on to control. We cry over the damage but won't lay down our will. We promise change but never surrender our way. It's like a marriage that keeps circling the same fights. One spouse says, "I'm sorry you feel that way," but never owns the hurt they caused. The words sound humble, but pride is still running the show. Until someone truly surrenders, healing never starts. Israel's story is our story. We mourn the results of sin—broken homes, fractured churches, divided nations—but we're not broken before God. And until we are, He will let us feel the weight of our own choices. The truth is, sorrow isn't always true surrender. Don't wait for another round of collateral damage to learn surrender. Lay down your pride now. Stop fighting your way and start trusting his. God will not give victory to the proud—but he will lift up the humble. ASK THIS: Am I more grieved by the consequences of sin or the cause of it? Where have I mistaken regret for repentance? How has pride kept me from true surrender in my relationships? What battle am I still fighting that God is waiting for me to release? DO THIS: Admit where pride still controls your responses—especially in your closest relationships. Write down one area you've been "sorry about" but haven't surrendered—and pray over it daily this week. PRAY THIS: Father, I'm tired of circling the same battles. Break the pride that blinds me and teach me to truly surrender. Help me move from tears of regret to the obedience of repentance. I don't want to just feel sorry—I want to be changed. Amen. PLAY THIS: "I Surrender."

Welcome to The Daily, where we study the Bible verse by verse, chapter by chapter, every day. Read more about Project23 and partner with us as we teach every verse of the Bible on video. Our text today is Judges 20:18-21. The people of Israel arose and went up to Bethel and inquired of God, "Who shall go up first for us to fight against the people of Benjamin?" And the Lord said, "Judah shall go up first." Then the people of Israel rose in the morning and encamped against Gibeah. And the men of Israel went out to fight against Benjamin, and the men of Israel drew up the battle line against them at Gibeah. The people of Benjamin came out of Gibeah and destroyed on that day 22,000 men of the Israelites. — Judges 20:18-21 Israel goes to Bethel. Finally—they pray! But look closely. They don't ask if they should go to war, only who should go first. Their minds are made up. They're not seeking God's direction; they only want God's endorsement. It's a subtle but dangerous difference. They don't want divine wisdom—they want divine approval. They're still fighting the wrong battle in the wrong way. And God allows them to go. He tells them, "Judah shall go up first." It sounds like victory—but it isn't. Israel loses 22,000 men that day. Their zeal was high, their numbers were strong, and their cause was just—but their hearts were wrong. They inquired of God, but they never repented to Him. Believers are guilty of doing this all the time. We ask God to bless our careers, our goals, our posts, our politics—without ever asking if they align with God's will. We quote Scripture but don't surrender to it. We wear God's name but pursue our own plans. Israel's defeat wasn't because God failed—it's because His people fought without surrender. And that's a battle you'll always lose. Maybe your defeats aren't setbacks; maybe they're invitations. God lets us lose when he wants to lead us back to him. He loves us way too much to let us keep winning our way. Before you go to battle, ask: Am I fighting God's enemy—or just my own? ASK THIS: Have I mistaken God's permission for His blessing? When was the last time I surrendered my agenda before seeking God's help? Where am I fighting a battle that God never called me to fight? What would it look like to let humility lead instead of pride? DO THIS: Before you act, pray: "Lord, am I fighting Your battle or mine?" Identify one area where you've asked for God's approval but not His direction. Surrender it today. PRAY THIS: Lord, forgive me for fighting battles You never called me to fight. Teach me to seek Your direction before demanding Your blessing. Lead me to surrender so that every victory brings You glory—not me. Amen. PLAY THIS: "Lead Me to the Cross."

Welcome to The Daily, where we study the Bible verse by verse, chapter by chapter, every day. Read more about Project23 and partner with us as we teach every verse of the Bible on video. Our text today is Judges 20:8-17. And all the people arose as one man, saying, "None of us will go to his tent, and none of us will return to his house. But now this is what we will do to Gibeah: we will go up against it by lot, and we will take ten men of a hundred throughout all the tribes of Israel, and a hundred of a thousand, and a thousand of ten thousand, to bring provisions for the people, that when they come they may repay Gibeah of Benjamin for all the outrage that they have committed in Israel." So all the men of Israel gathered against the city, united as one man. And the tribes of Israel sent men through all the tribe of Benjamin, saying, "What evil is this that has taken place among you? Now therefore give up the men, the worthless fellows in Gibeah, that we may put them to death and purge evil from Israel." But the Benjaminites would not listen to the voice of their brothers, the people of Israel. Then the people of Benjamin came together out of the cities to Gibeah to go out to battle against the people of Israel. And the people of Benjamin mustered out of their cities on that day 26,000 men who drew the sword, besides the inhabitants of Gibeah, who mustered 700 chosen men. Among all these were 700 chosen men who were left-handed; every one could sling a stone at a hair and not miss. And the men of Israel, apart from Benjamin, mustered 400,000 men who drew the sword; all these were men of war. — Judges 20:8-17 Israel's outrage turns into organization. They swear an oath not to go home until justice is served. It sounds noble—but it's dangerous. What started as righteous anger now becomes collective vengeance. They are so convinced of their own version of justice that they can't see the injustice they are about to commit. The people unite around punishment, not repentance, blind to the fact that their zeal will make them guilty of the same sin they condemn. There is no Judge in this moment—no voice of God's appointed leadership. The nation acts without discernment, following a rogue man who looks like a spiritual leader but does not live like one. The Levite's story fuels their passion, but not their prayer. They rally around his words, not God's Word. The unity here is impressive but deceptive. They're "as one man," but not under God. They're driven by zeal and confuse justice with revenge. And Benjamin, the brother tribe, refuses to hand over the guilty men of Gibeah. Pride meets pride. The result? Civil war. Israel will soon destroy its own family in the name of righteousness. This is what happens when justice acts apart from God's Word and direction. We seek to destroy the guilty instead of restoring them. The line between moral conviction and moral arrogance gets blurry. We see this same division today. Churches split over politics, believers cancel one another online, and movements built on truth end up powered by hate. Somewhere along the way, we stopped asking, "How do we honor God?" and started devising, "How do we win?" Justice without God's truth and direction always ends in destruction. Because without grace, even the right cause becomes the wrong crusade. Jesus showed us the better way: He didn't excuse sin, but he didn't execute sinners either. He bore their punishment to redeem them. That's what real justice looks like. It's always the truth, but it's wrapped in love. ASK THIS: Is my passion for justice rooted in love or in pride? When I see sin, do I seek restoration or revenge? How do I respond when brothers and sisters in Christ disappoint me? Am I building unity under God or alliances around outrage? DO THIS: Before confronting someone's sin, pray for their restoration—not their ruin. Look for one relationship in your life that needs grace more than judgment. PRAY THIS: Lord, keep me from turning Your justice into my vengeance. Give me a heart that loves mercy, seeks unity, and fights for truth without losing grace. Teach me to stand firm and kneel low at the same time. Amen. PLAY THIS: "What Mercy Did for Me."

Welcome to The Daily, where we study the Bible verse by verse, chapter by chapter, every day. Read more about Project23 and partner with us as we teach every verse of the Bible on video. Our text today is Judges 20:8-17. And all the people arose as one man, saying, "None of us will go to his tent, and none of us will return to his house. But now this is what we will do to Gibeah: we will go up against it by lot, and we will take ten men of a hundred throughout all the tribes of Israel, and a hundred of a thousand, and a thousand of ten thousand, to bring provisions for the people, that when they come they may repay Gibeah of Benjamin for all the outrage that they have committed in Israel." So all the men of Israel gathered against the city, united as one man. And the tribes of Israel sent men through all the tribe of Benjamin, saying, "What evil is this that has taken place among you? Now therefore give up the men, the worthless fellows in Gibeah, that we may put them to death and purge evil from Israel." But the Benjaminites would not listen to the voice of their brothers, the people of Israel. Then the people of Benjamin came together out of the cities to Gibeah to go out to battle against the people of Israel. And the people of Benjamin mustered out of their cities on that day 26,000 men who drew the sword, besides the inhabitants of Gibeah, who mustered 700 chosen men. Among all these were 700 chosen men who were left-handed; every one could sling a stone at a hair and not miss. And the men of Israel, apart from Benjamin, mustered 400,000 men who drew the sword; all these were men of war. — Judges 20:8-17 Israel's outrage turns into organization. They swear an oath not to go home until justice is served. It sounds noble—but it's dangerous. What started as righteous anger now becomes collective vengeance. They are so convinced of their own version of justice that they can't see the injustice they are about to commit. The people unite around punishment, not repentance, blind to the fact that their zeal will make them guilty of the same sin they condemn. There is no Judge in this moment—no voice of God's appointed leadership. The nation acts without discernment, following a rogue man who looks like a spiritual leader but does not live like one. The Levite's story fuels their passion, but not their prayer. They rally around his words, not God's Word. The unity here is impressive but deceptive. They're "as one man," but not under God. They're driven by zeal and confuse justice with revenge. And Benjamin, the brother tribe, refuses to hand over the guilty men of Gibeah. Pride meets pride. The result? Civil war. Israel will soon destroy its own family in the name of righteousness. This is what happens when justice acts apart from God's Word and direction. We seek to destroy the guilty instead of restoring them. The line between moral conviction and moral arrogance gets blurry. We see this same division today. Churches split over politics, believers cancel one another online, and movements built on truth end up powered by hate. Somewhere along the way, we stopped asking, "How do we honor God?" and started devising, "How do we win?" Justice without God's truth and direction always ends in destruction. Because without grace, even the right cause becomes the wrong crusade. Jesus showed us the better way: He didn't excuse sin, but he didn't execute sinners either. He bore their punishment to redeem them. That's what real justice looks like. It's always the truth, but it's wrapped in love. ASK THIS: Is my passion for justice rooted in love or in pride? When I see sin, do I seek restoration or revenge? How do I respond when brothers and sisters in Christ disappoint me? Am I building unity under God or alliances around outrage? DO THIS: Before confronting someone's sin, pray for their restoration—not their ruin. Look for one relationship in your life that needs grace more than judgment. PRAY THIS: Lord, keep me from turning Your justice into my vengeance. Give me a heart that loves mercy, seeks unity, and fights for truth without losing grace. Teach me to stand firm and kneel low at the same time. Amen. PLAY THIS: "What Mercy Did for Me."

Welcome to The Daily, where we study the Bible verse by verse, chapter by chapter, every day. Read more about Project23 and partner with us as we teach every verse of the Bible on video. Our text today is Judges 20:1-7. Then all the people of Israel came out, from Dan to Beersheba, including the land of Gilead, and the congregation assembled as one man to the Lord at Mizpah. And the chiefs of all the people, of all the tribes of Israel, presented themselves in the assembly of the people of God, 400,000 men on foot that drew the sword. (Now the people of Benjamin heard that the people of Israel had gone up to Mizpah.) And the people of Israel said, "Tell us, how did this evil happen?" And the Levite, the husband of the woman who was murdered, answered and said, "I came to Gibeah that belongs to Benjamin, I and my concubine, to spend the night. And the leaders of Gibeah rose against me and surrounded the house against me by night. They meant to kill me, and they violated my concubine, and she is dead. So I took hold of my concubine and cut her in pieces and sent her throughout all the country of the inheritance of Israel, for they have committed abomination and outrage in Israel. Behold, you people of Israel, all of you, give your advice and counsel here." — Judges 20:1-7 The scene opens with national unity—but not spiritual unity. Israel is outraged. The murder and dismemberment of the Levite's concubine shocks them into action. Four hundred thousand men march to Mizpah, ready to make war. But notice what's missing: there's no prayer, no repentance, no seeking God's will. They are united in outrage, not obedience. They are loud about the problem, but blind to their part in it. And the Levite—the one who caused this entire mess—plays the victim. He twists the story to make himself look righteous. He never admits his cowardice or cruelty. He blames everyone but himself. This is what happens when moral outrage replaces moral conviction. It feels righteous. It sounds godly. But it's hollow—because it lacks repentance. We do the same thing today. We rage against corruption in politics, immorality in culture, and sin in society—while ignoring the idols in our own homes. We tweet truth without living it. We protest evil but excuse pride. We call for justice but never kneel for mercy. The Church must beware of becoming like Israel at Mizpah—loud in anger but silent in repentance. Before we correct the world, we must first let God correct us. The greatest threat to righteousness isn't the sin of others in the world but believers with unrepentant hearts. Revival begins with us, the righteous, getting right with God. So are you ready to remove the log from your eye? "You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother's eye." — Matthew 7:5 ASK THIS: Where have I confused moral anger with spiritual obedience? Do I seek to fix others before I allow God to confront me? How do I respond when God exposes my hypocrisy? What would it look like to start repentance before reaction this week? DO THIS: Identify one area where your outrage exceeds your obedience—and confess it. Lead your family in a moment of prayer, asking God to purify your hearts before you judge others. Replace complaining with confession; revival always starts at home. PRAY THIS: Lord, help me see the sin beneath my outrage. Break my pride before it hardens my heart. Teach me to repent before I react, and to seek Your truth before I speak mine. Amen. PLAY THIS: "Lord, I Need You."

Welcome to The Daily, where we study the Bible verse by verse, chapter by chapter, every day. Read more about Project23 and partner with us as we teach every verse of the Bible on video. Our text today is Judges 19:30. "And all who saw it said, 'Such a thing has never happened or been seen from the day that the people of Israel came up out of the land of Egypt until this day; consider it, take counsel, and speak.'" — Judges 19:30 After the concubine's body was divided and sent throughout Israel, the nation was stunned. The people were forced to face their own moral decay—something so grotesque that it defied explanation. They cried out, "Such a thing has never happened!" And yet, it had happened—because of their silence, their compromise, and their abandonment of God. Israel had reached a point of no return. Evil was no longer outside their borders—it was within their tribes, their homes, and their hearts. And now, the nation that had ignored sin for generations was finally forced to see the cost of its complacency. We're not far from this moment today. Our culture flaunts what it once feared. We parade what God calls perverse and applaud what He condemns. The Church, too, has grown numb—more comfortable debating truth than defending it. Like Israel, we've seen so much sin that we barely flinch anymore. But evil always demands a response. It won't wait. It won't relent. And if we don't confront it, it will consume us. The people of Israel were called to "consider, take counsel, and speak." That's not just good advice—it's a call to repentance and reform. To look honestly at the ruin, seek God's wisdom, and speak the truth boldly once more. This is what revival looks like—it begins with seeing evil for what it is, grieving over it, and then turning to God for healing. We don't need louder outrage—we need deeper repentance. It's time for believers and the Church collective to rise again—to speak truth into a world collapsing under the weight of lies, to lead with courage when others retreat, and to call a generation back to holiness. Evil has spoken loudly. Now, it's time for the righteous to answer. ASK THIS: Where have you grown numb to evil in your life or culture? What truth has God been asking you to speak that you've delayed? DO THIS: Speak truth in love this week where culture has grown comfortable with sin. Lead your family, church, or circle in prayer for revival and holiness. PRAY THIS: Lord, let me never grow numb to evil. Give me courage to speak, wisdom to act, and humility to repent. Awaken Your Church, heal our land, and start that renewal in me. Amen. PLAY THIS: "God Turn It Around."

Welcome to The Daily, where we study the Bible verse by verse, chapter by chapter, every day. Read more about Project23 and partner with us as we teach every verse of the Bible on video. Our text today is Judges 19:27-29. "And her master rose up in the morning, and when he opened the doors of the house and went out to go on his way, behold, there was his concubine lying at the door of the house, with her hands on the threshold. He said to her, 'Get up, let us be going,' but there was no answer. Then he put her on the donkey, and the man rose up and went away to his home. And when he entered his house, he took a knife, and taking hold of his concubine he divided her, limb by limb, into twelve pieces, and sent her throughout all the territory of Israel. And all who saw it said, 'Such a thing has never happened or been seen from the day that the people of Israel came up out of the land of Egypt until this day; consider it, take counsel, and speak.'" — Judges 19:27-29 The Levite wakes up, steps over the woman he sacrificed, and shows no remorse—just disgust. He commands her like an object, and when she doesn't respond, he coldly dismembers her body and sends the pieces across Israel to spark outrage. And it works. The people are horrified. They cry out in anger over the injustice—but not because they've repented, but because they're offended. It's the same kind of outrage we see today—loud, emotional, and self-righteous, but completely blind to personal guilt. This is the tragic irony: we rage most fiercely against the sin that lives in us. The Levite is furious about moral decay—but he was part of it. He's outraged by the evil of others, while ignoring his own cowardice and cruelty. We do the same thing. We're fine with moral relativism until it touches our lives. We excuse corruption until it costs us personally. We tolerate sin in society until it inconveniences us. Then suddenly, we rediscover moral standards—but only for others. It's a dangerous cycle—one that keeps us from repentance and blinds us to hypocrisy. When we live by "our own truth," we lose the ability to see the truth at all. Absolute truth doesn't bend to convenience—it exposes it. So before we point fingers, we need to face the mirror. The greatest reform starts not with outrage, but with obedience. The change our world needs begins when believers stop blaming and start repenting. ASK THIS: What injustice angers you most—and how might it expose something within you? How does moral relativism show up in your home, work, or church? What would change if you sought repentance before outrage? DO THIS: Practice discernment this week: measure opinions, policies, and cultural trends against God's absolute truth, not convenience. Live as a person of consistency—so your conviction speaks louder than your outrage. PRAY THIS: Lord, expose my hypocrisy. Show me where I've tolerated sin while condemning others. Teach me to repent before I react, and let my life reflect the truth I proclaim. Amen. PLAY THIS: "Refiner."

Welcome to The Daily, where we study the Bible verse by verse, chapter by chapter, every day. And Happy New Year—today is January 1, 2026! As we step into a new year of studying God's Word, let's begin by asking Him to renew our courage and conviction. Read more about Project23 and partner with us as we teach every verse of the Bible on video. Our text today is Judges 19:24-26. "Behold, here are my virgin daughter and his concubine; let me bring them out now. Violate them and do with them what seems good to you, but against this man do not do this outrageous thing." But the men would not listen to him. So the man seized his concubine and made her go out to them. And they knew her and abused her all night until the morning. And as the dawn began to break, they let her go. And as morning appeared, the woman came and fell down at the door of the man's house where her master was, until it was light." — Judges 19:24-26 The horror of this passage is hard to read. The Levite—a man we might call a pastor today—shows no concern for his "girlfriend". He once pursued her, but not out of love—out of pride and control. When danger came, he threw her to the mob to save himself and then slept through the night while she suffered. The "pastor" slept through sin and suffering, proving that apathy is just as dangerous as outright evil. The old man was no better, offering his own daughter to protect his reputation. Both men reflected a world that had lost God's heart—where leadership was selfish, morality was twisted, and compassion had collapsed. We see this same crisis today. Some pulpits have gone silent while the culture burns. Many churches have grown comfortable, preaching peace while ignoring perversion. Leaders fear cancelation more than conviction, and believers trade boldness for belonging. It's the same sickness—call it the "Levite spirit"—that values comfort over courage and self-preservation over sacrifice. When those called to lead stop leading, darkness fills the void. When shepherds sleep, the sheep scatter. This is why we must awaken. Apathy may look harmless, but it's not. It destroys us, the church, the culture, and the innocent. The Church must rise again—not in outrage, but in obedience. We must stand for life, truth, and purity before compromise becomes collapse. Now is the time to take courage. To speak the truth. To defend the innocent. To reject passive faith and rise up in active conviction. And as we step into a new year, let this be our spiritual reset. The world may celebrate resolutions, but we resolve to stand for righteousness, to begin this year with conviction that does not waver and courage that does not fade. ASK THIS: Who in your life is suffering because of someone's silence? Where have you chosen comfort over courage? What fears keep you from standing up for what's right? How can you defend the vulnerable in your circle this week? DO THIS: Identify one injustice or moral issue you've ignored—pray and take one small stand this week. Talk to your family about courage—teach them that silence is never neutral. Practice boldness in small things so you'll be ready for big ones. PRAY THIS: Lord, wake me up from complacency. Give me courage to stand for the innocent and to speak truth when it costs me. Let my faith be marked by conviction, not convenience. Amen. PLAY THIS: "Take Courage."

Welcome to The Daily, where we study the Bible verse by verse, chapter by chapter, every day. Read more about Project23 and partner with us as we teach every verse of the Bible on video. Our text today is Judges 19:16-23. "And behold, an old man was coming from his work in the field at evening. The man was from the hill country of Ephraim, and he was sojourning in Gibeah. The men of the place were Benjaminites. And he lifted up his eyes and saw the traveler in the open square of the city. And the old man said, 'Where are you going, and where do you come from?' He said to him, 'We are passing from Bethlehem in Judah to the remote parts of the hill country of Ephraim, from which I come. I went to Bethlehem in Judah, and I am going to the house of the Lord, but no one has taken me into his house. We have straw and feed for our donkeys, with bread and wine for me and your female servant and the young man with your servants. There is no lack of anything.' And the old man said, 'Peace be to you; I will care for all your wants; only, do not spend the night in the square.' So he brought him into his house and gave the donkeys feed. And they washed their feet, and ate and drank. As they were making their hearts merry, behold, the men of the city, worthless fellows, surrounded the house, beating on the door. And they said to the old man, the master of the house, "Bring out the man who came into your house, that we may know him." And the man, the master of the house, went out to them and said to them, "No, my brothers, do not act so wickedly; since this man has come into my house, do not do this vile thing. " — Judges 19:16-23 This passage offers a flicker of hope—an old man who shows compassion to strangers when no one else would. But even here, courage is mixed with compromise. He welcomes them in, yet his warning is chilling: "Only, do not spend the night in the square." The city of Gibeah, once belonging to God's people, has become so corrupt that hospitality has turned to hostility. The tragedy of Gibeah isn't just the wickedness of its men—it's the silence of its good ones. Evil thrives when the faithful grow fearful, when believers retreat instead of resist. The old man does what's comfortable, not what's courageous. He shelters the Levite, but he never confronts the culture. This same paralysis infects our world today. We see evil advancing—violence, perversion, confusion, and godlessness—but too often, we stay quiet. We fear rejection more than judgment, conflict more than compromise. We've become polite in the face of sin. But our silence in this time is not neutrality—it's surrender. When good men stay silent, evil speaks louder. When the righteous sit back, the wicked will take over. God is still calling his people to stand—to speak truth even when it costs, to show courage even when it's unpopular, to defend righteousness even when the world mocks. Don't just be kind—be courageous. Have courageous confrontations. Because courage changes the course of a nation. Gibeah would one day rise again under Saul as Israel's first capital—a reminder that when one good man steps up to lead with conviction, God can redeem even the darkest places. ASK THIS: Where are you choosing comfort over courage? What sin in your culture or circle have you been silent about? How can you confront evil with both truth and grace? What would bold obedience look like for you today? DO THIS: Replace fearful silence with faithful action—pray, post, or stand for righteousness where others won't. Lead by example in your home: confront sin lovingly, not passively. PRAY THIS: Lord, give me the courage to speak when it's easier to stay silent. Help me confront evil with both conviction and compassion. Let my words and actions bring light where darkness reigns. Amen. PLAY THIS: "Stand In Your Love."

Welcome to The Daily, where we study the Bible verse by verse, chapter by chapter, every day. Read more about Project23 and partner with us as we teach every verse of the Bible on video. Our text today is Judges 19:10-15. This story forces us to look beyond names and appearances. Israel still carries God's name, but their hearts are far from Him. It's the same challenge for us today—to be a people whose lives reflect the heart of the God we proclaim. "But the man would not spend the night; he rose up and departed and arrived opposite Jebus (that is, Jerusalem). He had with him a couple of saddled donkeys, and his concubine was with him. When they were near Jebus, the day was nearly over, and the servant said to his master, 'Come now, let us turn aside to this city of the Jebusites and spend the night in it.' And his master said to him, 'We will not turn aside into the city of foreigners, who do not belong to the people of Israel; but we will pass on to Gibeah.' And he said to his servant, 'Come and let us draw near to one of these places and spend the night at Gibeah or at Ramah.' So they passed on and went their way. And the sun went down on them near Gibeah, which belongs to Benjamin. And they turned aside there, to go in and spend the night in Gibeah. And he went in and sat down in the open square of the city, for no one took them into his house to spend the night." — Judges 19:10-15 The Levite refuses to stay in Jebus—a pagan city—because he assumes it's unsafe. Instead, he chooses Gibeah, a city of Israelites, his own people. Surely, among believers, he'll find refuge and righteousness. But he doesn't. He sits in the open square, and no one takes him in. This is more than a travel story. It's a tragedy of misplaced trust. Gibeah should have been a beacon of hospitality and faithfulness. Instead, it's a spiritual wasteland—Israelite in name but pagan in practice. We see the same pattern today. Many cities, schools, and even churches bear names that sound holy—"Trinity," "Grace," "Bethlehem"—yet they reflect none of the God they claim to honor. Their doors are open, but their hearts are closed. Their signs declare faith, but their culture denies it. And if we're honest, it's not just the cities—it's us. Too many believers bear Christ's name but live as practical atheists. We talk about faith, but we don't depend on it. We proclaim grace, but we don't extend it. We wear crosses but carry none of their weight. Like Gibeah, we've confused proximity to truth with obedience to it. And that deception is deadly. It's not enough to claim the name of Jesus; our lives must reveal His nature. Our words, our choices, our homes, and our churches should bear the evidence of His transforming power. The world doesn't need more people who simply bear God's name—it needs a people who embody His heart. Authentic believers who live what they profess, reflect His character, and restore His reputation in a watching world. You may live in a city with a Christian name, attend a church with a cross on its roof, or post Bible verses online—but the real question is: Can anyone tell that Christ lives in you? ASK THIS: Where are you relying on reputation instead of righteousness? Does your life reflect the name of Jesus or the nature of the world? How can you model true hospitality, generosity, or holiness this week? What's one step you can take to live as an authentic believer today? DO THIS: Examine one area of your life where your actions don't align with your beliefs. Let your name—and your home—reflect the character of the God you claim to follow. PRAY THIS: Lord, make me more than a name-bearer. Let my faith be real, my actions be righteous, and my home be open. Keep me from the hypocrisy of hollow religion, and make me a living witness of Your truth. Amen. PLAY THIS: "Evidence."

Welcome to The Daily, where we study the Bible verse by verse, chapter by chapter, every day. Read more about Project23 and partner with us as we teach every verse of the Bible on video. Our text today is Judges 19:4-9. "And his father-in-law, the girl's father, made him stay, and he remained with him three days. So they ate and drank and spent the night there. And on the fourth day they arose early in the morning, and he prepared to go, but the girl's father said to his son-in-law, 'Strengthen your heart with a morsel of bread, and after that you may go.' So the two of them sat and ate and drank together. And the girl's father said to the man, 'Be pleased to spend the night, and let your heart be merry.'" — Judges 19:4-9 This scene feels harmless—two men eating, drinking, laughing, and delaying their journey. But beneath the surface, the nation reveals itself to be completely desensitized to holiness. The Levite and his father-in-law are Israelites, descendants of Abraham, men who should know the covenant and honor the Lord. Yet there's no mention of prayer, no reflection on repentance, no concern for God's will. Only indulgence. Self-gratification. Endless feasting and comfort. They look like men at peace—but it's not. It's the peace of distraction, not devotion. The peace of full bellies and empty hearts. And notice where they are—Bethlehem, "the house of bread." A place that should symbolize God's provision has become a house of pleasure. These are supposed to be God's people, yet you can't tell them apart from the world around them. Today, the same confusion fills our culture. Christians binge what the world watches, laugh at what the world listens to, and chase the same comforts and conveniences. The line between the sacred and the secular has blurred so much that many can't tell the difference. But Jesus never called us to blend in—He called us to stand out. To live holy. To look different. To love differently. To lead homes that don't reflect the world, but reflect Christ. Bethlehem may have been filled with Israelites, but their hearts were filled with idolatrous activities. And if we're not careful, our homes can become just as spiritually hollow. Stop living like the culture and expecting God's continued approval. Your Godliness begins with you at home. If you want the world to see the difference, they need to see it first in you. ASK THIS: Where has comfort made you spiritually lazy? Can others tell by your life that you belong to Christ? How does your home reflect holiness—or worldly habits? What's one way you can lead your family to live differently this week? DO THIS: Lead your family in one act of obedience—read Scripture together, serve a neighbor, or repent together in prayer. Ask God to make your home a holy contrast to the culture. PRAY THIS: Lord, open my eyes to the ways I've looked like the world. Strip away my comfort and awaken my conviction. Make my home distinct, my faith courageous, and my heart devoted fully to You. Amen. PLAY THIS: "Set Apart."

Welcome to The Daily, where we study the Bible verse by verse, chapter by chapter, every day. Read more about Project23 and partner with us as we teach every verse of the Bible on video. Our text today is Judges 19:1-3. This isn't just another story—it's a wake-up call. The Levite's failure reminds us how quickly spiritual leaders can drift from conviction to compromise. God is looking for men and women who will not only know His Word but live it, defend it, and pass it on with courage. In those days, when there was no king in Israel, a certain Levite was sojourning in the remote parts of the hill country of Ephraim, who took to himself a concubine from Bethlehem in Judah. And his concubine was unfaithful to him, and she went away from him to her father's house at Bethlehem in Judah, and was there some four months. Then her husband arose and went after her, to speak kindly to her and bring her back. He had with him his servant and a couple of donkeys. And she brought him into her father's house. And when the girl's father saw him, he came with joy to meet him. — Judges 19:1-3 By the time we reach Judges 19, Israel has plunged to its lowest point. Even the Levites—men once set apart to teach and guard God's law—no longer remember it. The opening line says it all: "There was no king in Israel." In other words, there was no authority, no truth, no standard—only self-rule. Here stands a Levite, a man supposed to model holiness. Instead, he takes a concubine—a live-in girlfriend with marital benefits but no covenant commitment. She betrays him, runs home, and after months apart, he decides he wants her back. The relationship is dysfunctional from every direction. But the greater tragedy is this: a priest who should lead God's people can't even lead himself. That's the climate of moral collapse—when spiritual leaders trade holiness for cultural conventions, then the nation no longer knows what righteousness looks like. We live in the same era of moral relativism—everyone doing what seems right in their own eyes. Churches ordain what God calls sin. Pulpits preach self-esteem instead of repentance. Pastors chase applause over truth. But notice they still wear the robes, carry the titles, build buildings, and quote a few verses—but like this Levite, they've abandoned the covenant. And the result? Confused believers. Compromised faith. A generation that can no longer tell the difference between God's truth and cultural tolerance. We've come a long way from Joshua's bold declaration—"As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord." Now we say, "As for me and the truth, we'll do what feels right." When leaders forget the Word, the people follow their feelings. And when that happens, nations collapse from the inside long before enemies ever invade. The Levite's story isn't just a scandal—it's a warning shot and a challenge. When God's people drift from His Word, it's not enough to simply shake our heads—we must act. Step up where he stepped back. Lead where he lacked courage. Recommit to Scripture in your home, your marriage, your circle of influence. Because when we return to God's Word, broken relationships can be healed, leadership restored, and love redeemed. ASK THIS: Where have you seen "moral relativism" creep into the church? Have you traded biblical truth for cultural comfort in any area of life? What voices in your life hold you accountable to Scripture? How can you encourage your pastor—or yourself—to stand firm on truth this week? DO THIS: Pray daily for pastors and leaders to preach truth with courage and clarity. Recommit to reading Scripture before social media or news; make God's Word your authority again. PRAY THIS: Lord, reignite conviction in Your people. Make us builders of truth and defenders of faith. Give us courage to lead boldly where others have drifted, and help us restore what weak leadership has lost. Commission us to act—not just believe—so that Your Word defines every choice we make. Amen. PLAY THIS: "Come to the Altar."

Welcome to The Daily, where we study the Bible verse by verse, chapter by chapter, every day. Read more about Project23 and partner with us as we teach every verse of the Bible on video. Our text today is Judges 18:30-31. And the people of Dan set up the carved image for themselves, and Jonathan the son of Gershom, son of Moses, and his sons were priests to the tribe of the Danites until the day of the captivity of the land. So they set up Micah's carved image that he made, as long as the house of God was at Shiloh. — Judges 18:30-31 The tribe of Dan ends their story with idols, not inheritance. They set up a fake priesthood, a false religion, and call it "faith." It looked spiritual—but it was hollow. Everything they built was founded on force, not faith; ritual, not repentance. What began as one man's compromise became a tribe's tradition—and a nation's decay. And that's exactly where we stand today. We've kept the symbols of faith but lost the substance. We sing about Jesus but live as if His Word no longer defines truth. We've traded repentance for relevance and holiness for acceptance. The signs are flashing, and time is running short. Our culture isn't collapsing because evil is stronger—it's collapsing because truth is weaker. The light has dimmed. The Church has grown quiet. We've learned to tolerate what we should confront and bless what we should repent of. But this is not the time to coast. It's time to come back. Not next year. Not after things "settle down." Now. Because a nation that forgets God doesn't lose Him overnight—it loses Him one compromise at a time. The tribe of Dan thought they secured their future, but they only secured their judgment. And if we keep drifting from the truth, we'll do the same. God is calling His people. It's time to return to the Lord while there's still time. ASK THIS: What signs of drift do you see in your own heart or church? How can you personally help call others back to truth? What step of repentance could you take today? DO THIS: Pray daily this week for revival—in your heart, home, and church. Speak truth where others have grown silent. PRAY THIS: Lord, wake us up. Stir Your people to repent, return, and rebuild on truth. Let revival start in me—and spread before it's too late. Amen. PLAY THIS: "Revive Us Again."

Welcome to The Daily, where we study the Bible verse by verse, chapter by chapter, every day. Read more about Project23 and partner with us as we teach every verse of the Bible on video. Our text today is Judges 18:25-29. And the people of Dan said to him, "Do not let your voice be heard among us, lest angry fellows fall upon you, and you lose your life with the lives of your household." Then the people of Dan went their way. And when Micah saw that they were too strong for him, he turned and went back to his home. But the people of Dan took what Micah had made, and the priest who belonged to him, and they came to Laish, to a people quiet and unsuspecting, and struck them with the edge of the sword and burned the city with fire. And there was no deliverer because it was far from Sidon, and they had no dealings with anyone. It was in the valley that belongs to Beth-rehob. Then they rebuilt the city and lived in it. And they named the city Dan, after the name of Dan their ancestor, who was born to Israel; but the name of the city was Laish at the first. — Judges 18:25-29 The Danites finally get what they wanted—a city, a priest, and a name. From the outside, it looks like triumph. But it's all built on theft and deceit. They conquered Laish not through faith, but through force. God never told them to take this land. They took it because it was easy. They called it "God's will," but it was just willpower. That's how sin disguises itself: it borrows the language of faith to bless the work of the flesh. The Danites built a city on the illusion of success. But anything built on disobedience will eventually collapse. We have all done this: We push instead of pray. We manipulate instead of trusting. We use strength, strategy, and spin to get what we want—and then call it God's blessing. But real victory never comes by force. It comes by faith. Faith waits when force demands. Faith obeys when ambition rushes. Faith surrenders when pride insists. The tribe of Dan won a city—but lost its way. Don't lose your way, do things God's way. ASK THIS: Where have you been pushing by force instead of walking by faith? Have you ever mistaken human success for God's blessing? What would it look like to stop striving and start trusting? How can you rebuild what's been done your way, God's way? DO THIS: Pause before your next decision—ask, "Am I forcing this, or is God leading it?" Read Psalm 127:1: "Unless the Lord builds the house, those who build it labor in vain." PRAY THIS: Lord, keep me from building by force what You've called me to build by faith. I don't want hollow victories or false success—only what's done in Your strength and truth. Amen. PLAY THIS: "Wait On You."

Welcome to The Daily, where we study the Bible verse by verse, chapter by chapter, every day. Read more about Project23 and partner with us as we teach every verse of the Bible on video. And Merry Christmas to you all. Our text today is Judges 18:21-24. So they turned and departed, putting the little ones and the livestock and the goods in front of them. When they had gone a distance from the home of Micah, the men who were in the houses near Micah's house were called out, and they overtook the people of Dan. And they shouted to the people of Dan, who turned around and said to Micah, "What is the matter with you, that you come with such a company?" And he said, "You take my gods that I made and the priest, and go away, and what have I left? How then do you ask me, 'What is the matter with you?'" — Judges 18:21-24 The Danites march away from Micah's house with his idols, his priest, and his faith-for-hire religion. Micah chases after them and shouts, "What's the matter with you?" It's the right question — but no one in this story has the courage to answer it. The Danites should've said, "Our cowardice." They were too afraid to claim the land God gave them, so they stole what belonged to others. Disobedience bred desperation, and cowardice turned into theft. The Levite should've said, "My ambition." He left Micah's house not because of conviction, but because the job offer was better — more people, more influence, more recognition. His ministry was a career move, not a calling. But neither the Danites nor the Levite can face their sin. So when Micah asks, "What's the matter with you?" they flip it back: "What's the matter with you?" That's what sin always does — it deflects instead of reflects. We do the same thing. When confronted, we defend. And we say, "I'm just under a lot of stress." When corrected, we justify. And we say, "At least I'm not as bad as them." When convicted, we rationalize. And we say, "God knows my heart." But the heart is exactly where the problem lies. Like the Danites, our disobedience starts small — fear, laziness, pride — until it grows into actions we can't explain or admit. And like the Levite, ambition can masquerade as ministry until the applause becomes louder than obedience. But the question still stands: What is the matter with you? This question is not intended to shame you, but to awaken you. To make you stop running long enough to face what's hiding in your heart. Because until you name the sin, you'll keep defending it. The Danites justified their sin all the way into idolatry. But God calls us all to something better: to stop deflecting and start repenting. ASK THIS: When was the last time you blamed someone else instead of owning your sin? What's harder for you to confront—cowardice or ambition? Have you ever used "spiritual" excuses to justify disobedience? How can confession restore courage and integrity in your life today? DO THIS: Ask the Spirit to reveal one area of your life where you've been justifying sin. Write down the excuses you've used to defend it—then confess them one by one. Replace justification with repentance. PRAY THIS: Lord, help me stop deflecting and start confessing. Reveal the cowardice or ambition hiding in my heart, and give me the courage to face it with repentance and faith. Amen. PLAY THIS: "Refiner."

Welcome to The Daily, where we study the Bible verse by verse, chapter by chapter, every day. Read more about Project23 and partner with us as we teach every verse of the Bible on video. And Merry Christmas to you all. Our text today is Judges 18:11-20. So 600 men of the tribe of Dan, armed with weapons of war, set out from Zorah and Eshtaol, and went up and encamped at Kiriath-jearim in Judah. On this account that place is called Mahaneh-dan to this day; behold, it is west of Kiriath-jearim. And they passed on from there to the hill country of Ephraim, and came to the house of Micah. Then the five men who had gone to scout out the country of Laish said to their brothers, "Do you know that in these houses there are an ephod, household gods, a carved image, and a metal image? Now therefore consider what you will do." And they turned aside there and came to the house of the young Levite, at the home of Micah, and asked him about his welfare. Now the 600 men of the Danites, armed with their weapons of war, stood by the entrance of the gate. And the five men who had gone to scout out the land went up and entered and took the carved image, the ephod, the household gods, and the metal image, while the priest stood by the entrance of the gate with the 600 men armed with weapons of war. And when these went into Micah's house and took the carved image, the ephod, the household gods, and the metal image, the priest said to them, "What are you doing?" And they said to him, "Keep quiet; put your hand on your mouth and come with us and be to us a father and a priest. Is it better for you to be priest to the house of one man, or to be priest to a tribe and clan in Israel?" And the priest's heart was glad. He took the ephod and the household gods and the carved image and went along with the people. — Judges 18:11-20 The Danites raid Micah's house—not for gold, not for land, but for religion. They take his idols, his ephod, and even his priest. They want everything that looks spiritual—but none of what demands surrender. This is the heart of false faith. It wants the blessing of belief without the burden of obedience. They want a god they can move, not one who moves them. They want a priest who blesses, not one who confronts. They want the look of religion without the Lord of righteousness. It's the same impulse alive today. We still crave the symbols of faith without submitting to it. We want a baby christened—but not a child discipled. We want a church wedding—but not a marriage that honors God. We want a pastor to conduct our funeral—but not a life spent following Christ. We want faith that makes us feel covered—but never changed. This is why false religion is so attractive: it offers comfort without conviction, community without accountability, and symbols without sanctification. It gives you everything except transformation. The Danites carried off the priest and the idols, thinking they'd secured God's favor. But they weren't following God—they were franchising a fake religion. Don't turn faith in God into a performance of externals. Don't settle for "religious moments" in place of regular obedience. God doesn't want your religious props and symbols; he wants all of you. He is here not to tag along but to transform you. ASK THIS: Where have you settled for symbols instead of surrender? Do you display faith publicly but resist obedience privately? What modern "idols" have you borrowed to make faith feel easier? How can you move from religious performance to real pursuit of God this week? DO THIS: Ask God to expose any area where you've kept religion but lost relationship. Read 2 Timothy 3:5: "Having the appearance of godliness, but denying its power." Replace outward habits with inward devotion—prayer, confession, and obedience. Live today as if God's presence, not your performance, is what defines your faith. PRAY THIS: Lord, save me from the trap of empty religion. I don't want symbols of faith; I want surrender. Strip away anything that looks spiritual but keeps me from true obedience to You. Amen. PLAY THIS: "Christ Be Magnified."

Welcome to The Daily, where we study the Bible verse by verse, chapter by chapter, every day. Our shout-out today goes to Scott Kacos and family. Thank you so much for partnering with us on Project23. We cannot do this without you. This is for you today. Our text today is Judges 18:7-10. Then the five men departed and came to Laish and saw the people who were there, how they lived in security, after the manner of the Sidonians, quiet and unsuspecting, lacking nothing that is in the earth and possessing wealth, and how they were far from the Sidonians and had no dealings with anyone. And when they came to their brothers at Zorah and Eshtaol, their brothers said to them, "What do you report?" They said, "Arise, and let us go up against them, for we have seen the land, and behold, it is very good. And will you do nothing? Do not be slow to go, to enter in and possess the land. As soon as you go, you will come to an unsuspecting people. The land is spacious, for God has given it into your hands, a place where there is no lack of anything that is in the earth."— Judges 18:7-10 The Danite scouts find Laish—a city that looks perfect. Peaceful. Prosperous. Secure. Everything their own land was not. And they instantly assume, "God has given it into our hands." But notice—there's no record of prayer, no word from the Lord, and no evidence of obedience in the moments leading up to this. They mistake opportunity for confirmation. They see abundance and assume it's God's blessing. But it's fake faith—faith built on feelings, not on truth. This is how counterfeit obedience works. It looks spiritual, it sounds hopeful, but it's driven by convenience and comfort, not conviction. Remember, the Danites didn't want to fight the Amorites for the land God gave them in Joshua 19. They wanted the easy win, and this was it. Easy victories frequently lead to empty lives. We do the same when we chase the "Laish" in front of us: The job that pays more but pulls us from church. The relationship that feels good but bends God's truth.| The comfort that whispers, "This has to be right, it's working." But not everything that looks right is righteous. Sometimes what looks like God's favor is just avoidance in disguise. When our faith loses its fight, it starts settling for false flags. And the Danites here traded commands for the convenient conquest—and then called it compliance. Real faith does not do this. It never chases comfort; it counts on God even when the command is challenging. ASK THIS: Where have you confused convenience with God's calling? What's your "Laish"—the easy path that tempts you to compromise? Have you been mistaking peace for permission? How can you return to the ground God actually called you to claim? DO THIS: Identify one area where comfort has replaced conviction. Choose faithfulness over feelings this week—even if it costs you ease. PRAY THIS: Lord, forgive me for chasing comfort and calling it faith. Teach me to obey You when the way is hard and to trust You when the road isn't easy. Give me real faith—not imitation peace. Amen. PLAY THIS: "Trust In God."

Welcome to The Daily, where we study the Bible verse by verse, chapter by chapter, every day. Read more about Project23 and partner with us as we teach every verse of the Bible on video. Our text today is Judges 18:2-6. So the people of Dan sent five able men from the whole number of their tribe, from Zorah and from Eshtaol, to spy out the land and to explore it. And they said to them, "Go and explore the land." And they came to the hill country of Ephraim, to the house of Micah, and lodged there. When they were by the house of Micah, they recognized the voice of the young Levite. And they turned aside and said to him, "Who brought you here? What are you doing in this place? What is your business here?" And he said to them, "This is how Micah dealt with me: he has hired me, and I have become his priest." And they said to him, "Inquire of God, please, that we may know whether the journey on which we are setting out will succeed." And the priest said to them, "Go in peace. The journey on which you go is under the eye of the Lord." — Judges 18:2-6 The Danite scouts stop by Micah's house, meet his Levite-for-hire, and ask three questions that sound curious but expose their compromise: "Who brought you here?" "What are you doing in this place?" "Why are you here?" Not one of those questions mentions God. They're interested in Micah, not in God. It's a spiritual conversation with no Spirit in it. If this Levite had been faithful, he would have responded very differently: You would go where God sends, not where you choose. You wouldn't stay in a house filled with idols. You would claim the land God already gave you, not shop for easy pickings. But instead, the Levite answers, "Micah has done these things for me." Not "God brought me." Not "I serve the Lord." Just "Micah." His allegiance—and his paycheck—come from the same source. The Danites and the Levite both prove the same point: they're using spiritual language to hide spiritual rebellion. The Levite blesses their mission; they leave feeling "confirmed." But it's all self-validation dressed up in spiritual garb. We do the same when we call it "discernment," but it's really rationalization. When we pray, not to surrender, but to get reassurance. When we say, "God's got this," but never ask if God is sending us. Faith without conviction always drifts toward convenience. And convenience disguised as faith is still disobedience. ASK THIS: Are you seeking God's will—or His approval of your will? Have you ever asked God to bless what He never called you to do? Where have you replaced obedience with rationalization? Who in your life tells you truth instead of what you want to hear? DO THIS: Pause before your next big decision—ask, "Is this obedience or convenience?" Read Proverbs 3:5–6 and invite God to redirect you. Seek counsel from someone who tells you truth, not comfort. PRAY THIS: Lord, forgive me for blessing my own plans in Your name. Teach me to ask Your questions, listen for Your answers, and follow where You lead. Amen. PLAY THIS: "What I Needed."

Welcome to The Daily, where we study the Bible verse by verse, chapter by chapter, every day. Read more about Project23 and partner with us as we teach every verse of the Bible on video. Our text today is Judges 18:1. In those days there was no king in Israel. And in those days the tribe of the Danites was seeking for itself an inheritance to dwell in, for until then no inheritance among the tribes of Israel had fallen to them. — Judges 18:1 The story of the tribe of Dan is one of lost conviction. Dan had already been given land by God—its boundaries clearly marked in Joshua 19:40–48. But Judges 1:34–36 tells us why they never possessed it: they were driven back by the Amorites. Instead of standing firm in faith, they retreated to the hills. They settled for survival rather than fighting for obedience. Now, in Judges 18, decades later, they're still wandering—looking for "an inheritance" that was already theirs. It wasn't that God failed to provide. It was that they failed to believe, obey, and act with conviction. This is the ripple effect of cowardly leadership. When men and women stop living with conviction, they begin living by convenience. What should've been conquered through faith now becomes a lifetime of compromise. That's the Danite story—and sadly, it's ours too. We do the same when we abandon the ground God has already called us to stand on. We know what's right, but we don't want the conflict that comes with it. We back off, blend in, or look for easier paths. And every time we do, we lose spiritual territory that God already gave us to possess. The Danites didn't need new land—they needed renewed faith. They didn't need to search for an easier inheritance—they needed to fight for the one God already promised. This is what happens when conviction dies. Faith becomes flexible. Truth becomes negotiable. The mission becomes manageable. And before long, we're not following God anymore—we're following comfort. Sound familiar? We see it in families that won't confront sin, churches that bend to culture, and believers who settle for peace over purity. Every compromise we tolerate today becomes the conflict we inherit tomorrow. The Danites' failure to lead with conviction didn't just cost them land—it cost them legacy. When God gives a calling, the only right response is courageous obedience. Anything less invites compromise. ASK THIS: Where in your life have you chosen convenience over conviction? What "land" or area of obedience has God already called you to claim? How does fear of conflict keep you from living with conviction? What would courageous faith look like in that area today? DO THIS: Identify one area of your life where you've retreated instead of standing firm. Read Joshua 1:9: "Be strong and courageous; do not be frightened, and do not be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go." Reclaim that ground in prayer and obedience today—don't keep wandering where God already gave you victory. Commit this week to act from conviction, not convenience. PRAY THIS: Lord, forgive me for backing away from battles You've already called me to win. Give me courage to stand, conviction to obey, and faith to take hold of the promises You've already given. Amen. PLAY THIS: "Battle Belongs."

Welcome to The Daily, where we study the Bible verse by verse, chapter by chapter, every day. Read more about Project23 and partner with us as we teach every verse of the Bible on video. Our text today is Judges 17:13. "Then Micah said, 'Now I know that the Lord will prosper me, because I have a Levite as priest.'" — Judges 17:13 Micah's homemade religion is now complete. He's got a shrine, a priest, and a title. And now—he's got confidence. "Now I know," he says, "the Lord will prosper me." But it's all fake. Fake priest. Fake faith. Fake confidence. Micah believes he's in God's favor simply because everything looks right. But this is the final stage of spiritual delusion: when you mistake comfort for confirmation. He assumes that because his setup feels spiritual, it must be spiritual. That's what happens when religion becomes self-made—you start measuring faith by your feelings instead of His truth. This is the heart of counterfeit Christianity today. People claim assurance, quote Scripture out of context, or redefine sin, all while drifting further from God's Word. They've built a religion that feels peaceful because it never confronts them. And the more they say "God told me," the less they actually listen to what God already said. Micah's confidence wasn't rooted in Scripture—it was rooted in self-deception. And that's what makes this so dangerous. You can be completely convinced you're right with God and still be miles from Him if your faith isn't built on truth. We also see this in the church. Whole movements chase emotional experiences but ignore biblical obedience. Believers trust in positive feelings, prosperity, or political comfort instead of God's holiness. It's the American version of Micah's religion—comfort without conviction, blessing without obedience, and faith without truth. False confidence always feels strong—right up until the truth tests it. So here's the question I would present to you: Is your confidence based on God's Word—or your own worldview? ASK THIS: Where are you mistaking spiritual comfort for spiritual confirmation? What beliefs or habits have you justified that don't line up with God's Word? Have you built confidence on truth—or convenience? How can you anchor your assurance in Scripture instead of emotion? DO THIS: Take a truth inventory: what do you believe that's not clearly rooted in Scripture? Replace assumptions with alignment—submit your confidence to God's Word. Pray for humility to let God's truth confront your comfort. PRAY THIS: Father, I don't want false confidence. Expose any lie I've believed about You or about myself. Anchor my assurance in Your truth—not in feelings, comfort, or imitation faith. Amen. PLAY THIS: "Build My Life."

Welcome to The Daily, where we study the Bible verse by verse, chapter by chapter, every day. Read more about Project23 and partner with us as we teach every verse of the Bible on video. Our text today is Judges 17:12. "And Micah ordained the Levite, and the young man became his priest, and was in the house of Micah." — Judges 17:12 Micah finally finishes building his fake religion. He's got a shrine, a priest, and now an "ordination." It sounds holy—but it's hollow. Micah "ordains" a Levite, believing that if he calls it spiritual, it becomes spiritual. He convinces himself it's from God simply because he said so. But that's not faith—that's fabrication. This is what happens when people stop grounding their beliefs in Scripture. They start declaring things "from God" that God never said. They replace divine revelation with human imagination—and then call it holy. It's the birth of self-made religion. Micah didn't reject God outright; he simply replaced God's authority with his own. And that's what makes false faith so deceptive—it looks spiritual while quietly dethroning God. When we start believing our feelings carry the same weight as God's Word, we've already started building our own religion. We see it everywhere today. People say, "God told me to be happy," or "God just wants me to live my truth," or "Love is love—so it must be holy." But if it contradicts Scripture, it's not revelation—it's rebellion. Calling something "anointed" doesn't make it approved. Micah's fake ordination is a warning to every believer who wants spiritual authority without scriptural submission. God's blessing doesn't rest on what sounds right or feels right—it rests on what is true. And here's the danger: when fake ordination goes unchecked, it breeds fake faith. Micah thought ordaining a Levite would make him holy, but both of them were lost—confident, religious, and completely wrong. That's what happens when we build a faith not on the foundation of God's Word but on the echo of our opinions. It may look spiritual, but it leads people away from truth. And a lie repeated in God's name is still a lie. True authority doesn't come from our declarations—it comes from God's revelation. The moment we separate "God said" from what God wrote, we're not worshiping Him anymore—we're worshiping our own imagination. ASK THIS: Have you ever declared something "from God" that wasn't grounded in Scripture? Where do you see culture redefining truth and calling it faith? How can you better discern between human opinion and divine authority? What step can you take today to anchor your faith more deeply in God's Word? DO THIS: Test every "God idea" against Scripture before you believe or share it. Read 2 Timothy 4:3–4: "For the time is coming when people will not endure sound teaching… and will turn away from listening to the truth." PRAY THIS: Lord, keep me from creating a version of faith that fits my feelings. Anchor me in Your Word so deeply that I can spot false truth from a mile away. Teach me to follow revelation, not imagination. Amen. PLAY THIS: "Holy Spirit Come."

Welcome to The Daily, where we study the Bible verse by verse, chapter by chapter, every day. Read more about Project23 and partner with us as we teach every verse of the Bible on video. Our text today is Judges 17:10-11. "And Micah said to him, 'Stay with me, and be to me a father and a priest, and I will give you ten pieces of silver a year and a suit of clothes and your living.' And the Levite went in. And the Levite was content to dwell with the man, and the young man became to him like one of his sons." — Judges 17:10-11 Micah's religion has now become a business deal. He hires the Levite—ten pieces of silver a year, new clothes, free housing. It's faith on payroll. What began as borrowed faith has now turned into bought faith. Micah thinks that by hiring a holy man, he can buy holy favor. It's spiritual consumerism—the idea that God's presence can be purchased if we just find the right people, say the right words, or make the right donation. But you can't buy what only grace can give. Micah wanted divine legitimacy without surrendering to the divine. He didn't want to be changed; he wanted to feel covered. He didn't want the presence of God; he wanted the appearance of blessing. So he threw money at religion like it was a spiritual vending machine. And before we judge Micah, we should ask—do we do the same? We start thinking that giving more, serving harder, or knowing the right people will earn God's favor. We assume that being around "spiritual" people makes us spiritual too. But that's not faith—that's a transaction. We see it everywhere: churches chasing charisma over conviction, money over mission, platforms over prayer. Believers often confuse activity with intimacy, assuming that attendance or effort earns them grace points with God. But God's presence isn't for sale. His power isn't a product. His favor doesn't run on contract—it runs on covenant. Micah missed that entirely. He thought hiring a priest made him holy, but all he did was build a payroll for pride. He tried to control what could only be received. That's the trap of bought faith—it turns worship into work and relationship into ritual. It trades intimacy for image. It pays for what's already been purchased—by the blood of Jesus. The gospel flips that thinking: you can't buy God's presence, but you can surrender to it. You can't earn grace, but you can receive it. So receive it today. And stop trying to earn it. ASK THIS: Where are you trying to earn what God already offers freely? Have you ever mistaken spiritual activity for intimacy with God? What do you rely on more—God's grace or your own performance? How can you rest in the truth that grace is received, not achieved? DO THIS: Take inventory of where you've been "performing" for God instead of walking with Him. Stop treating faith like a transaction—spend time with God without an agenda today. Thank God for his grace today. PRAY THIS: Father, thank You that grace can't be bought or earned. Forgive me for trying to perform my way into Your favor. Teach me to receive Your presence as a gift, not a payment. Amen. PLAY THIS: "Grace Alone."

Welcome to The Daily, where we study the Bible verse by verse, chapter by chapter, every day. Read more about Project23 and partner with us as we teach every verse of the Bible on video. Our text today is Judges 17:7-9. "Now there was a young man of Bethlehem in Judah, of the family of Judah, who was a Levite, and he sojourned there. And the man departed from the town of Bethlehem in Judah to sojourn where he could find a place. And as he journeyed, he came to the hill country of Ephraim to the house of Micah. And Micah said to him, 'Where do you come from?' And he said to him, 'I am a Levite of Bethlehem in Judah, and I am going to sojourn where I may find a place.'" — Judges 17:7-9 Micah's story takes another turn when a wandering Levite shows up. This young man has the right background, the right bloodline, and the right credentials—and Micah sees his chance. Maybe if he brings a Levite into his house, it'll make his homemade religion look legitimate. Micah's faith was hollow, but this priest-for-hire could make it look holy. He didn't want to change his heart; he wanted to polish his appearance. That's what borrowed faith does—it looks spiritual from the outside but lacks life on the inside. And if we're honest, a lot of believers today are living on borrowed faith. We lean on our pastor's passion, our parents' prayers, our spouse's convictions. We admire other people's intimacy with God instead of pursuing our own. We've mastered secondhand spirituality—reading popular Christian living books instead of Scripture, reposting verses instead of living them, attending church instead of being the church. Borrowed faith looks convincing—but it collapses when tested. Because borrowed faith can get you through a sermon, but not a storm. It can quote Scripture but won't stand on it. It's the illusion of devotion without the evidence of obedience. That's exactly what Micah was doing. He wanted to hire holiness—to buy credibility without surrender. He invited a Levite into his home, but he never invited the Lord into his heart. And what started as borrowed faith soon became broken faith. This story is a reminder and a warning for us. Whole generations have been raised near faith but not in it. We've confused proximity with intimacy, attendance with relationship, influence with anointing. But God can't be subcontracted. You can't borrow someone else's righteousness or lease someone else's conviction. The only faith that lasts is the faith you actually live. So go live it. ASK THIS: Whose faith have you been borrowing instead of developing your own? Do you find more comfort in looking spiritual than in obeying God? When was the last time your personal time with God shaped your decisions, not just your emotions? What would it take for your faith to become firsthand again? DO THIS: Identify one area where you've been relying on borrowed faith—church, parents, friends, or leaders. Replace it with firsthand obedience this week. Pray, study, and apply truth yourself. PRAY THIS: Father, I don't want to live on borrowed faith. I don't want secondhand conviction or part-time obedience. Teach me to know You firsthand—to walk with You daily, not through someone else's devotion, but through my own surrender. Amen. PLAY THIS: "Run to the Father."

Welcome to The Daily, where we study the Bible verse by verse, chapter by chapter, every day. Read more about Project23 and partner with us as we teach every verse of the Bible on video. Our text today is Judges 17:5-6: "And the man Micah had a shrine, and he made an ephod and household gods and ordained one of his sons, who became his priest. In those days there was no king in Israel. Everyone did what was right in his own eyes." — Judges 17:5-6 Micah's home has now turned into a shrine. What began as a sentimental blessing has become a full-blown counterfeit religion. He makes an ephod, sets up household gods, and ordains his own son as priest. He's no longer just bending the rules—he's building a new religion entirely. This is what happens when personal compromise becomes public culture. Verse 6 gives us the diagnosis for an entire generation: "Everyone did what was right in his own eyes." When you remove God's authority, all you're left with is opinion. And opinion, when elevated to truth, becomes clutter. Micah's story is ancient, but it sounds painfully modern. We live in an age of "Build-A-God" spirituality. People pick and choose beliefs like toppings on a pizza—keep the love, lose the wrath; keep the grace, ditch the repentance. We want a faith that feels personal but never confronts. We call it authenticity, but it's really autonomy in disguise. We see it everywhere. "I'm spiritual, not religious." "My truth is my truth." "God just wants me to be happy." These are the slogans of a society that has traded holiness for self-help and discipleship for self-discovery. And here's the danger: customized faith always leads to counterfeit worship. When you decide what's right for you instead of what's true before God, you stop worshiping Him—you start worshiping you. Micah built a religion that worked for him, but it couldn't save him. The same is true for us. A God who always agrees with you can't change you. A faith that never offends you will never transform you. The real God draws lines because He loves us. He sets boundaries because He knows what sin destroys. Micah's shrine wasn't just a problem of misplaced silver—it was a problem of misplaced worship. He didn't stop worshiping; he just switched the object. And that's what happens to us when we treat faith like a mirror instead of a window—we stop seeing God and start seeing ourselves. We don't need a God who works for us—we need a God who works on us. The gospel isn't about making God fit our preferences; it's about letting Him reshape our hearts. ASK THIS: Have you ever tried to build a version of faith that "fits" your lifestyle? Where have you made peace with sin by calling it "personal conviction"? How does Micah's example warn us about the dangers of self-made religion? What truth have you been tempted to rewrite to make life easier? DO THIS: Read Romans 1:25: "They exchanged the truth about God for a lie and worshiped and served the creature rather than the Creator." Repent of any area where you've been "editing" God's authority to fit your comfort. PRAY THIS: Father, I don't want a faith that fits my comfort—I want a faith that changes my character. Save me from the kind of religion that worships me instead of You. Tear down every idol I've built in my own image and bring me back under Your truth. Amen. PLAY THIS: "Christ Be Magnified."

Welcome to The Daily, where we study the Bible verse by verse, chapter by chapter, every day. Read more about Project23 and partner with us as we teach every verse of the Bible on video. Our text today is Judges 17:3-4: "And he restored the 1,100 pieces of silver to his mother. And his mother said, 'I dedicate the silver to the Lord from my hand for my son, to make a carved image and a metal image. Now therefore I will restore it to you.' So when he restored the money to his mother, his mother took 200 pieces of silver and gave it to the silversmith, who made it into a carved image and a metal image. And it was in the house of Micah." — Judges 17:3-4 Micah's mother meant well—but meaning well doesn't make something right. She takes stolen silver, dedicates it "to the Lord," and then uses it to fund an idol. It's one of the strangest contradictions in Scripture: a mom trying to honor God by disobeying Him. But this is where sentimental faith always leads. Yesterday, she blessed what God condemned. Today, she's building what God forbade. When we refuse to confront sin, it doesn't just sit quietly—it grows bold. You can almost hear her logic: "I'm doing this for God. It's my way of worship." But the moment we start serving God our way, we stop serving Him His way. Micah's mother didn't reject the Lord; she redefined Him. She wanted God's presence and blessing without God's authority. And that's the same deception shaping modern faith. We've learned to baptize disobedience in religious language. Parents fund their kids' sinful choices and call it love. Churches adopt the world's ideologies and call it outreach. Politicians quote Bible verses while endorsing laws that mock God's design. It's all the same move—blessing what God condemns and calling it righteousness. But God is not impressed by sincerity when it's married to sin. Good intentions don't turn rebellion into righteousness. When we fund what He forbids, we don't build faith—we build idols. We see it in the culture of "progressive Christianity." We want inclusion without repentance, affirmation without transformation, and spirituality without submission. We think God should evolve with our culture, when in truth, we are the ones called to conform to His holiness. The tragedy of Micah's home is that it looked religious but lived rebellious. It had silver crosses and carved idols, blessings and blasphemy side by side. And that's what happens when love loses its spine—sentimentality becomes sin, and truth is replaced by tolerance. ASK THIS: Where are you tempted to justify sin with "good intentions"? How does your home reflect what you really believe about God's boundaries? Have you ever supported something "for love's sake" that you knew dishonored God? What would it look like to love your family with conviction instead of compromise? DO THIS: Ask God to reveal one area where you've been "blessing" what He condemns. Repent by naming it for what it is—not "progress," not "love," but sin. Have one honest conversation this week with someone who needs truth spoken in love. PRAY THIS: Lord, forgive me for blessing what You've already called sin. Give me courage to love with conviction, to call truth what You call truth, and to stop confusing kindness with compromise. Amen. PLAY THIS: "Holy (Song of the Ages)."

Welcome to The Daily, where we study the Bible verse by verse, chapter by chapter, every day. Read more about Project23 and partner with us as we teach every verse of the Bible on video. Our text today is Judges 17:1-2: There was a man of the hill country of Ephraim, whose name was Micah. And he said to his mother, "The 1,100 pieces of silver that were taken from you, about which you uttered a curse and also spoke it in my ears—behold, the silver is with me; I took it." And his mother said, "Blessed be my son by the Lord." — Judges 17:1-2 This scene looks simple—a son confesses theft, and a mother blesses him. But underneath it is something tragic. Micah steals from his own mother, admits it, and instead of correction, she offers him a blessing in God's name. It sounds spiritual—but it's sentimental. Micah's mom believes in God, but she won't confront sin. She wants to keep peace, not stir conflict. Her love is sincere, but her silence is deadly. She redefines righteousness as "being nice," and in doing so, she turns blessing into approval of sin. And here's the cost: when parents won't draw the line, children stop seeing one. When we're silent about sin, we teach the next generation that God's boundaries are optional—that His truth bends for our emotions. Micah's mother wasn't leading her son to God; she was leading him away by confusing blessing with permission. Sound familiar? We see it every day. Christian parents who believe in the Bible—but when their kids walk into sin, they go quiet. They're afraid to offend, afraid to seem "judgmental," afraid to lose the relationship. So they soften the truth, stay silent, or even give their blessing to lifestyles and choices that God clearly calls sin. It's the Micah mistake—wanting God's blessing without His boundaries. We say things like, "I just want my kids to be happy," when God calls us to want our kids to be holy. We call it love, but it's really fear wearing a mask of compassion. We live in a world that calls confrontation "hate" and tolerance "love." But God calls love something higher—truth spoken with courage, even when it hurts. Real love doesn't wink at sin; it weeps over it. It points people, even our own children, back to the God who saves, not the one we invent to make everyone comfortable. Micah's mother wanted God in her home but not on His terms. And that's where idolatry always starts—in homes that believe but won't obey. God doesn't bless sentimental faith. He blesses surrendered faith. Love without truth isn't love—it's permission. And truth without love isn't truth—it's pride. The real God won't bend to our emotions, preferences, or family politics. He is the same yesterday, today, and forever. Our job isn't to adjust Him—it's to align with Him. ASK THIS: Have you ever confused love with tolerance in your home or relationships? What message does silence about sin send to your children or those you influence? Where do you need to speak truth in love, even if it risks tension? How can you model both conviction and compassion like Jesus did? DO THIS: Identify one area where you've softened God's truth out of fear or sentimentality. Pray for wisdom and courage to address it with both love and clarity. PRAY THIS: Father, forgive me for loving comfort more than conviction. Help me to love my family enough to tell them the truth. Give me courage to draw boundaries that lead to life—and grace to speak truth in love. Amen. PLAY THIS: "Fear Is Not My Future."

Welcome to The Daily, where we study the Bible verse by verse, chapter by chapter, every day. Read more about Project23 and partner with us as we teach every verse of the Bible on video. Our text today is Judges 16:28-31: "Then Samson called to the Lord and said, 'O Lord God, please remember me and please strengthen me only this once, O God, that I may be avenged on the Philistines for my two eyes.' And Samson grasped the two middle pillars on which the house rested, and he leaned his weight against them, his right hand on the one and his left hand on the other. And Samson said, 'Let me die with the Philistines.' Then he bowed with all his strength, and the house fell upon the lords and upon all the people who were in it. So the dead whom he killed at his death were more than those whom he had killed during his life. Then his brothers and all his family came down and took him and brought him up and buried him between Zorah and Eshtaol in the tomb of Manoah his father. He had judged Israel twenty years." — Judges 16:28-31 Samson's life was a rollercoaster of wasted potential—flashes of power, but riddled with pride, lust, and compromise. He fought enemies, but mostly on his own terms. Until now. In his final moments, blind and humbled, Samson prayed: "O Lord God, please remember me and please strengthen me only this once." Then, the text says, "he bowed with all his strength." That line changes everything. Samson finally used all his strength in God's way. For the first time, his power wasn't about proving himself, chasing pleasure, or showing off. It was about surrender. With his final act, Samson lived out the calling God gave him from the beginning—to deliver Israel from the Philistines. This is what surrender looks like: using all you have, not for yourself, but for God. And ironically, it was in death that Samson accomplished more than in life. His final words and final act remind us that true strength is never self-made—it's God-given, and it's God-directed. Our culture teaches us to spend our strength proving ourselves, building platforms, or chasing tolerance and applause. But in God's economy, your greatest strength shows up when you bow. Your calling is fulfilled when your strength is finally surrendered to His purpose. And Samson's story points us forward to Christ. Jesus, too, stretched out His arms, surrendered His life, and in what looked like defeat, He fulfilled His mission. In surrender came victory—once for all. ASK THIS: Where have you been using your strength for yourself instead of God? How does Samson's final act of surrender redefine what true strength looks like? What would it mean for you to "bow with all your strength" today? How can your surrender fulfill the calling God placed on your life? DO THIS: Pray for the courage to bow low and surrender it to Him. Write down one way you will use your strength for God's purpose this week. PRAY THIS: Lord, may I not waste the strength You've given me. Teach me to bow with all my strength—not for myself, but for You. May my final words and daily actions echo a surrender to Your purpose. Amen. PLAY THIS: "Yet Not I But Through Christ in Me."

Welcome to The Daily, where we study the Bible verse by verse, chapter by chapter, every day. Read more about Project23 and partner with us as we teach every verse of the Bible on video. Our text today is Judges 16:22-27: "But the hair of his head began to grow again after it had been shaved. Now the lords of the Philistines gathered to offer a great sacrifice to Dagon their god and to rejoice, and they said, 'Our god has given Samson our enemy into our hand.' And when the people saw him, they praised their god. For they said, 'Our god has given our enemy into our hand, the ravager of our country, who has killed many of us.' And when their hearts were merry, they said, 'Call Samson, that he may entertain us.' So they called Samson out of the prison, and he entertained them. They made him stand between the pillars. And Samson said to the young man who held him by the hand, 'Let me feel the pillars on which the house rests, that I may lean against them.' Now the house was full of men and women. All the lords of the Philistines were there, and on the roof there were about 3,000 men and women, who looked on while Samson entertained." — Judges 16:22-27 The last time we saw Samson, he was blinded, bound, and grinding in Gaza. His strength was gone, his dignity destroyed, and his calling in shambles. But tucked into verse 22 is a whisper of hope: "But the hair of his head began to grow again." That single line reminds us that God wasn't done. Even in failure, grace was at work. Samson couldn't see it, but the God who set him apart before birth hadn't abandoned him. Meanwhile, the Philistines were throwing a party. They praised their false god and mocked Samson as entertainment. It looked like evil had won, that God's man was finished, that compromise had written the final chapter. And isn't that how failure feels in our lives? When you've given in, when you've lost the fight, when culture mocks you for standing on the wrong side of "tolerance"—you feel finished. Look at our own nation. We've compromised on marriage, family, and sexuality. We're mocked on the global stage for holding to biblical convictions. Closer to home, we're mocked for turning to God in prayer, ridiculed for standing up for our convictions on college campuses, and even fired for voicing biblical values in the workplace. Yet even now, God isn't finished with His people. Like Samson's hair growing in the shadows, grace is still at work—even in the dark places. If you've failed, don't believe the lie that God is done with you. Grace is often hidden, subtle, even slow—but it is always moving. The hair grows back. And let's be honest—even bald men can still make a difference for the next generation when they're surrendered to God. It's not about what's on your head; it's about who's in your heart. ASK THIS: Where do you feel like failure has the last word in your life? How does Samson's quiet restoration give you hope? Where can you see God's grace "growing back" in your own story, even if others can't see it yet? How can you encourage someone else who feels written off by failure? DO THIS: Pray and surrender it to God, asking Him to redeem it. Write down a "but God" statement (e.g., "I failed here, but God is still working.") PRAY THIS: Father, thank You that failure is never the end of the story with You. When I am humbled, remind me that Your grace is still at work. Grow in me what I cannot see, and use me again for Your glory. Amen. PLAY THIS: "Grace Greater."

Welcome to The Daily, where we study the Bible verse by verse, chapter by chapter, every day. Read more about Project23 and partner with us as we teach every verse of the Bible on video. Our text today is Judges 16:18-21: "When Delilah saw that he had told her all his heart, she sent and called the lords of the Philistines, saying, 'Come up again, for he has told me all his heart.' Then the lords of the Philistines came up to her and brought the money in their hands. She made him sleep on her knees. And she called a man and had him shave off the seven locks of his head. Then she began to torment him, and his strength left him. And she said, 'The Philistines are upon you, Samson!' And he awoke from his sleep and said, 'I will go out as at other times and shake myself free.' But he did not know that the Lord had left him. And the Philistines seized him and gouged out his eyes and brought him down to Gaza and bound him with bronze shackles. And he ground at the mill in the prison." — Judges 16:18-21 Yesterday, Samson gave in to Delilah's toxic empathy. He mistook love for surrender, compassion for compromise. And the moment he did, the trap was sprung. His vow was broken. His strength was gone. Notice the devastating effects: Blinded: His eyes gouged out—sin always blinds us first, dulling our discernment. Bound: Shackled in bronze—compromise doesn't free you; it chains you. Ground down: Forced to grind grain in prison—the mighty judge of Israel reduced to slave labor. This is the natural progression of toxic empathy and social tolerance. When you give up righteousness to avoid being labeled "intolerant," you don't just lose ground—you lose sight. You lose freedom. You lose strength. We also see it in culture. Churches that once stood firm on God's Word now compromise to be "welcoming." Leaders soften the truth so they won't be misunderstood. Families surrender holiness in the name of keeping peace. And just like Samson, the strength departs—and many don't even realize God's presence has left the room. Look again at Gaza. It was the city Samson once strutted out of with the gates on his shoulders (Judges 16:3). Now it's the city where he's paraded around in chains. The very place where he thought he was untouchable becomes the place of his humiliation. That's the effect of compromise: What you once thought you mastered eventually masters you. ASK THIS: Where have you mistaken tolerance for love, and ended up weakening your faith? How has compromise blinded you to sin's danger? What "chains" do you feel in your life right now because of past concessions? How can you return to strength by standing firm in God's truth again? DO THIS: Write down one area where compromise has robbed you of strength. This week, resist one small cultural lie with clear, biblical truth. PRAY THIS: Father, forgive me for the places I've traded truth for acceptance. Open my eyes where I've been blinded. Break the chains where I've been bound. Restore my strength so I can walk faithfully with You again. Amen. PLAY THIS: "No Compromise."

Welcome to The Daily, where we study the Bible verse by verse, chapter by chapter, every day. Read more about Project23 and partner with us as we teach every verse of the Bible on video. Our text today is Judges 16:15-17: "And she said to him, 'How can you say, "I love you," when your heart is not with me? You have mocked me these three times, and you have not told me where your great strength lies.' And when she pressed him hard with her words day after day, and urged him, his soul was vexed to death. And he told her all his heart, and said to her, 'A razor has never come upon my head, for I have been a Nazirite to God from my mother's womb. If my head is shaved, then my strength will leave me, and I shall become weak and be like any other man.'" — Judges 16:15-17 Delilah didn't defeat Samson with force—she wore him down with feelings. "If you love me, prove it. If you care, give me this. If you don't, you're holding back." Samson caved, not because he was overpowered, but because he couldn't stand the weight of emotional manipulation. This is called "toxic empathy"—the kind of false compassion that confuses love with surrender. Toxic empathy says: "If you love me, you'll accept what I want, even if it violates your convictions." It's empathy weaponized. And doesn't that sound familiar? Our culture preaches a version of tolerance that demands the death of truth. "Affirm my choices, celebrate my lifestyle, bless my rebellion—or else you're hateful, judgmental, intolerant." That's the same spirit Delilah used on Samson: emotional blackmail to make him lay down what God called sacred. Samson gave in, and in doing so, he forfeited his righteousness. He handed over the very thing God set apart in him. And when believers cave to cultural "tolerance," we do the same. We give up holiness for acceptance. We trade truth for applause. We exchange conviction for the cheap approval of people who don't worship our God. Love can be loving without surrendering truth. Jesus was the most compassionate man who ever lived, yet he never compromised truth or righteousness. He loved sinners without affirming their sin. And we are called to do the same. Toxic empathy may appear to be kindness, but in the end, it costs us our strength, integrity, and influence. So love, without compromise. ASK THIS: Where are you tempted to compromise truth because you don't want to be misunderstood? How does "toxic empathy" show up in your relationships or workplace? When have you traded conviction for cultural acceptance? What would it look like to love people with compassion but without surrendering righteousness? DO THIS: Identify one area where you feel pressured to soften or surrender God's truth. Pray for courage to hold the line with grace and conviction. Practice speaking truth in love this week—kindly, but clearly. Memorize Isaiah 5:20: "Woe to those who call evil good and good evil." PRAY THIS: Lord, help me resist the pull of toxic empathy. Give me courage to love people with grace, but never at the cost of Your truth. Strengthen me to stand firm when culture demands tolerance that violates righteousness. Amen. PLAY THIS: "Christ Our Hope in Life and Death."

Welcome to The Daily, where we study the Bible verse by verse, chapter by chapter, every day. Read more about Project23 and partner with us as we teach every verse of the Bible on video. Our text today is Judges 16:10-14: "Then Delilah said to Samson, 'Behold, you have mocked me and told me lies; please tell me how you might be bound.' And he said to her, 'If they bind me with new ropes that have not been used, then I shall become weak and be like any other man.' So Delilah took new ropes and bound him with them and said to him, 'The Philistines are upon you, Samson!' And the men lying in ambush were in an inner chamber. But he snapped the ropes off his arms like a thread. Then Delilah said to Samson, 'Until now you have mocked me and told me lies. Tell me how you might be bound.' And he said to her, 'If you weave the seven locks of my head with the web and fasten it tight with the pin, then I shall become weak and be like any other man.' So while he slept, Delilah took the seven locks of his head and wove them into the web. And she made them tight with the pin and said to him, 'The Philistines are upon you, Samson!' But he awoke from his sleep and pulled away the pin, the loom, and the web." — Judges 16:10-14 Delilah wasn't subtle anymore. By now it was obvious: she was working with the Philistines to trap Samson. She asked, and he answered with half-truths and games. She tested him, and he kept breaking free. Over and over again, Samson played along. Why? Because repeated lies dull our senses. At first, you know it's a setup. You laugh it off, you toy with it, you think you're still in control. But the more you tolerate it, the less dangerous it feels. Eventually, what once seemed unthinkable becomes normal. That's exactly how sin and culture work today. We're told the same falsehoods so often, people start to believe them: "You be you." "You've got this." "Truth is whatever you feel." "Gender is just a choice." "Faith doesn't belong in the workplace. Keep it to yourself." Repeat a lie long enough, and people let their guard down. Israel did it with Gaza—tolerating an enemy they should have driven out—and generations later, that compromise still haunts them. We've seen the same thing in our time. Take marriage. Marriage was once honored in our culture as a covenant between a man and a woman. Now it's redefined, mocked, and replaced with hookup culture and hyper-sexualism in nearly every movie, ad, and classroom. Lies repeated long enough become the air we breathe, and if we're not alert, we start to tolerate what God never intended. Samson thought he was just playing games. But every laugh, every half-truth, every little compromise was softening him up for the kill. That's how lies work—they don't strike all at once; they wear you down. And we face the same danger. You can't toy with deception and expect to stand strong. Every time you entertain a lie, it dulls your discernment, lowers your guard, and prepares you for a bigger fall. Left unchecked, small lies become chains—and eventually, those chains own you. ASK THIS: Where are you letting repeated lies numb your discernment? Which cultural "half-truths" are you tempted to tolerate because they're everywhere? How has compromise in small things weakened you in bigger battles? DO THIS: Identify one lie you've started to accept without thinking. Hold it up against Scripture—what does God actually say? Replace that lie with a verse of truth (write it, memorize it, share it). PRAY THIS: Lord, open my eyes to the lies I've started to tolerate. Give me discernment to see through deception and strength to stand on Your truth, no matter how often the world repeats its lies. Amen. PLAY THIS: "Voice of Truth."

Welcome to The Daily, where we study the Bible verse by verse, chapter by chapter, every day. Read more about Project23 and partner with us as we teach every verse of the Bible on video. Our text today is Judges 16:4-9: "After this he loved a woman in the Valley of Sorek, whose name was Delilah. And the lords of the Philistines came up to her and said to her, 'Seduce him, and see where his great strength lies, and by what means we may overpower him, that we may bind him to humble him. And we will each give you 1,100 pieces of silver.' So Delilah said to Samson, 'Please tell me where your great strength lies, and how you might be bound, that one could subdue you.' Samson said to her, 'If they bind me with seven fresh bowstrings that have not been dried, then I shall become weak and be like any other man.' Then the lords of the Philistines brought up to her seven fresh bowstrings that had not been dried, and she bound him with them. Now she had men lying in ambush in an inner chamber. And she said to him, 'The Philistines are upon you, Samson!' But he snapped the bowstrings, as a thread of flax snaps when it touches the fire. So the secret of his strength was not known." — Judges 16:4-9 Samson fell in love with Delilah. On the outside, it probably looked harmless—even romantic. But underneath, the Philistine rulers were using her to unravel him. Notice their strategy: not an ambush, not an outright attack, but seduction. Quiet. Subtle. Patient. That's how sin usually works. Rarely does the enemy come at you with flashing lights and a sword in hand. More often, he whispers through slow compromise, through small concessions that seem harmless—until you realize you've been tied up. And here's the irony: Samson kept playing along. He knew she was setting him up, but he continued to entertain the idea. He tolerated the danger, thinking he could handle it. That's exactly how sin works in us. What we entertain today eventually enslaves us tomorrow. This is still happening now. Just look around. Our culture seduces us with subtle compromises—porn normalized as entertainment, propaganda hidden in schools, news outlets, and governments selling the lie that we can trade truth for comfort and cultural ideologies. Like Israel tolerating Gaza for generations, many believers today tolerate little footholds of sin, thinking they won't matter. But they do. Small compromises left unchecked lead to devastating collapse. Sin doesn't usually take you out all at once. It wears you down until you give away what you never meant to lose. ASK THIS: Where are you tolerating small compromises in your life right now? Why do you think subtle temptations feel safer than obvious ones? How can you recognize when sin is "wearing you down" before it's too late? What cultural lies are you tempted to tolerate instead of resisting? DO THIS: Identify: One "small" compromise you've been tolerating. Confess: Ask God to help you shut the door before it grows. Pay attention: Is culture shaping your convictions—or is God's Word? PRAY THIS: Lord, open my eyes to the subtle compromises that wear me down. Give me the courage to resist what seems small, and the wisdom to guard what You've set apart in me. Amen. PLAY THIS: "Lord, I Need You."

Welcome to The Daily, where we study the Bible verse by verse, chapter by chapter, every day. Read more about Project23 and partner with us as we teach every verse of the Bible on video. Our text today is Judges 16:1-3 "Samson went to Gaza, and there he saw a prostitute, and he went in to her. The Gazites were told, 'Samson has come here.' And they surrounded the place and set an ambush for him all night at the gate of the city. They kept quiet all night, saying, 'Let us wait till the light of the morning; then we will kill him.' But Samson lay till midnight, and at midnight he arose and took hold of the doors of the gate of the city and the two posts, and pulled them up, bar and all, and put them on his shoulders and carried them to the top of the hill that is in front of Hebron." — Judges 16:1-3 Samson walked straight into Gaza—the heart of Philistine territory—to spend the night with a prostitute. On the surface, he got away with it. At midnight, he ripped the city gates from their foundations, carried them on his shoulders, and walked away like a man untouchable. But Gaza wasn't just any city. Then and now, Gaza has been a hotspot of conflict—a place where compromise, corruption, and resistance to God's people have festered for generations. What Israel tolerated in Gaza back then still plagues them today. It's a sobering reminder that sins left unchecked don't just fade with time—they multiply. Samson thought he was strong enough to dip into enemy territory and walk away. In reality, Gaza became another crack in his armor, another step toward downfall. That's how temptation works. It whispers, "You're strong enough. You can manage this. You'll be fine." But every compromise weakens us. Every trip into enemy territory costs more than we realize. You can't flirt with sin and expect to walk away unscathed. The little compromises we excuse today often grow into the strongholds that enslave us tomorrow. God calls us not to manage temptation, but to flee from it. ASK THIS: Where are you tempted to flirt with sin, thinking you can handle it? How has "getting away with it" in the past made you careless toward temptation? What compromises have you tolerated that now feel like strongholds? What escape route do you need to take before the fire burns you? DO THIS: Identify: One temptation you've been "managing" instead of fleeing. Confess: That one temptation, honestly to God today. Action: Take one concrete step to remove access to that temptation (delete, block, avoid, or confess). PRAY THIS: Lord, I admit I've played too close to the fire. Forgive me for flirting with sin. Give me the wisdom to run from temptation and the strength to rely on You instead of myself. Amen. PLAY THIS: "God, Turn It Around."

Welcome to The Daily, where we study the Bible verse by verse, chapter by chapter, every day. Read more about Project23 and partner with us as we teach every verse of the Bible on video. Our text today is Judges 15:18-20 "And he was very thirsty, and he called upon the Lord and said, 'You have granted this great salvation by the hand of your servant, and shall I now die of thirst and fall into the hands of the uncircumcised?' And God split open the hollow place that is at Lehi, and water came out from it. And when he drank, his spirit returned, and he revived. Therefore the name of it was called En-hakkore; it is at Lehi to this day. And he judged Israel in the days of the Philistines twenty years." — Judges 15:18-20 Think about the irony here. Yesterday, Samson had boasted in his own strength: "With the jawbone of a donkey, I struck down a thousand men." He took credit for God's win. But today, he's gasping for breath, parched with thirst, and he cries out: "God, You gave me this victory—are You going to let me die now?" In other words, when things went well, it was all Samson. When things went wrong, it was all God's fault. Pride when it suits him. Blame when it doesn't. Sound familiar? We do the same. We take credit for the promotion, the healed relationship, the successful project. Then the moment we hit a wall, we turn on God: "Why are You letting this happen? Where are You now?" Here's the stunning part of the story: even with Samson's pride and finger-pointing, God still provides. He cracks open rock. Water flows. Samson is revived. Grace pours out where it's least deserved. That's the heart of our God. He provides not because we always get it right, but because He is always faithful. And Samson's thirst points us forward to Jesus, who said, "Whoever drinks of the water that I will give him will never be thirsty again" (John 4:14). Victories won't quench your soul. Pride won't satisfy your thirst. Blame won't fix your emptiness. Only grace can. And grace flows even when you don't deserve it. ASK THIS: When have you taken credit for God's work in your life? Where are you quick to blame God when life gets hard? How does it change you to know He still provides, even when your attitude is wrong? What "thirst" do you need to bring honestly before Him today? DO THIS: Reflect: Where have you recently taken credit for God's work—or blamed Him for your struggles? Confess: Both honestly in prayer. Ask: God to meet your deepest thirst with His grace. PRAY THIS: Father, I confess my pride in taking credit when things go well and my blame when things fall apart. Yet you still provide. Thank you for pouring out grace even when I don't deserve it. Satisfy my thirst in you alone. Amen. PLAY THIS: "Living Water."

Welcome to The Daily, where we study the Bible verse by verse, chapter by chapter, every day. Read more about Project23 and partner with us as we teach every verse of the Bible on video. Our text today is Judges 15:16-17 "And Samson said, 'With the jawbone of a donkey, heaps upon heaps, with the jawbone of a donkey have I struck down a thousand men.' As soon as he had finished speaking, he threw away the jawbone out of his hand. And that place was called Ramath-lehi."  — Judges 15:16-17 Samson had just experienced one of the most incredible victories in his life. Bound by ropes, surrounded by enemies, he was suddenly filled with the Spirit of God. With nothing but a donkey's jawbone, he struck down a thousand Philistines. But listen to what he says afterward. Listen carefully. "With the jawbone of a donkey, heaps upon heaps, have I struck down a thousand men." No mention of God. No credit to the Spirit. Just Samson boasting about Samson. Sound familiar? Victory often tempts us to shift the spotlight. We crush a project at work and secretly think, "Look what I did." A relationship improves, and we say, "I finally figured it out." Even in ministry, we can pat ourselves on the back after a win instead of lifting our eyes to heaven. Pride in victory steals glory from God and puts us on shaky ground. The truth is, Samson didn't kill a thousand men because he was clever with a jawbone. He didn't snap ropes because of sheer strength. The Spirit did that. The Spirit rushed in, gave him power, and made the impossible possible. The same is true for us. Any success we enjoy—big or small—is by God's hand. Pride takes what God did and rebrands it as our accomplishment. And the moment we start stealing God's glory, we set ourselves up for a fall. But humility reverses the script. Humility says, "God did this. I'm just holding the jawbone." ASK THIS: Where in your life are you tempted to take credit instead of giving God glory? Why does success so often make us forget God's role in the victory? What would it look like to redirect praise to God in your current season? How can humility actually deepen your joy in the victories He gives? DO THIS: Identify one recent "victory" in your life. Out loud, thank God for it specifically: "Lord, You did this." PRAY THIS: Father, I confess I love to take credit for what only You could have done. Keep me humble in victory. Teach me to give glory back to You in every success. Amen. PLAY THIS: "Nothing Else."

Welcome to The Daily, where we study the Bible verse by verse, chapter by chapter, every day. Read more about Project23 and partner with us as we teach every verse of the Bible on video. Our text today is Judges 15:14-15 When he came to Lehi, the Philistines came shouting to meet him. Then the Spirit of the Lord rushed upon him, and the ropes that were on his arms became as flax that has caught fire, and his bonds melted off his hands. And he found a fresh jawbone of a donkey, and put out his hand and took it, and with it he struck 1,000 men. — Judges 15:14-15 Samson walked into Lehi tied up. Not by the Philistines, but by his own people. That had to sting. Three thousand of his brothers bound him with ropes and handed him over. To everyone watching, it looked like the end. The Philistines saw a man restrained, contained, and defeated before the fight even started. They shouted in victory before they'd even lifted a sword. Maybe you've been there. Bound not just by circumstances, but by betrayal, disappointment, or shame. You walk into a situation feeling powerless. People write you off. The enemy shouts too soon. You hear voices in your head: You'll never break free. You'll never change. You'll never win. But then—God's Spirit shows up. The text says the Spirit of the Lord "rushed upon him." Instantly, what looked impossible changed. The ropes fell away like burnt thread. The bonds melted as if they were nothing. Samson reached for the only thing nearby—a donkey's jawbone—and God turned it into a weapon of victory. You may be bound, but you are not broken. The ropes on your life are real. Addiction is real. Fear is real. Regret is real. Wounds from betrayal are real. But they are not final. The Spirit of God can snap what holds you. The Spirit can melt what seems permanent. The Spirit can turn even the most ordinary thing into a tool for victory. Your ropes don't define you. God's Spirit does. So if you're feeling tied down today—by sin, by failure, by the weight of life—you need to know: the same Spirit who rushed on Samson lives in you. And the same Spirit can set you free. ASK THIS: Where do you feel most bound in your life right now? How have you seen God's Spirit break through in the past? What would it look like to stop relying on willpower and invite the Spirit into this battle? Who in your life needs to hear that they may be bound but not broken? DO THIS: Write down the "rope" that feels like it has you tied up. Name it specifically. Share your struggle with a trusted friend and invite them to pray with you. Watch for God to use something small or unexpected (like a jawbone) as part of your freedom story. PRAY THIS: Holy Spirit, I feel bound, but I believe I'm not broken. Rush into my weakness, snap the ropes I can't break, and give me strength to walk free in Your power. Amen. PLAY THIS: "Break Every Chain."

Welcome to The Daily, where we study the Bible verse by verse, chapter by chapter, every day. Read more about Project23 and partner with us as we teach every verse of the Bible on video. Our text today is Judges 15:9-13 "Then the Philistines came up and encamped in Judah and made a raid on Lehi. And the men of Judah said, 'Why have you come up against us?' They said, 'We have come up to bind Samson, to do to him as he did to us.' Then 3,000 men of Judah went down to the cleft of the rock of Etam and said to Samson, 'Do you not know that the Philistines are rulers over us? What then is this that you have done to us?' And he said to them, 'As they did to me, so have I done to them.' And they said to him, 'We have come down to bind you, that we may give you into the hands of the Philistines.' And Samson said to them, 'Swear to me that you will not attack me yourselves.' They said to him, 'No; we will only bind you and give you into their hands. We will surely not kill you.' So they bound him with two new ropes and brought him up from the rock." — Judges 15:9-13 The Philistines were furious with Samson. But instead of standing with their fellow Israelites, the men of Judah bowed to the pressure. Three thousand of his own brothers came to Samson—not to fight for him, but to tie him up and hand him over. That betrayal cuts deep. It wasn't just enemies after Samson—it was his own people. Sometimes the hardest hits don't come from outsiders, but insiders. People you trust will eventually disappoint you, but God never will. Never! Maybe you've felt that sting. A spouse who didn't stand up for you. Friends who vanished when you needed them most. A church that didn't support you. The pain is real. But Samson's story shows us something—being bound by people doesn't mean being abandoned by God. Even when those closest to you give in to fear or pressure, God's purpose is still unfolding. You might feel tied up, let down, or betrayed, but the Spirit of God is never bound. His plan doesn't stop when people fail you. ASK THIS: When have you felt most let down by someone close to you? How did that disappointment shape your faith? Where are you tempted to let betrayal define your trust in others—or in God? How does God's unbreakable faithfulness give you hope in those moments? DO THIS: Think of one disappointment still weighing on you. Take it to God in prayer, naming it honestly. PRAY THIS: Father, You know the pain of being let down by those closest to me. Thank You that when people fail, You remain faithful. Help me rest in Your unshakable presence. Amen. PLAY THIS: "You Never Let Go."

Welcome to The Daily, where we study the Bible verse by verse, chapter by chapter, every day. Read more about Project23 and partner with us as we teach every verse of the Bible on video. Our text today is Judges 15:6-8 "Then the Philistines said, 'Who has done this?' And they said, 'Samson, the son-in-law of the Timnite, because he has taken his wife and given her to his companion.' And the Philistines came up and burned her and her father with fire. And Samson said to them, 'If this is what you do, I swear I will be avenged on you, and after that I will quit.' And he struck them hip and thigh with a great blow, and he went down and stayed in the cleft of the rock of Etam." — Judges 15:6-8 Look at the spiral. Samson burns fields.The Philistines burn his wife and father-in-law. Samson slaughters them back. It's eye for eye, burn for burn, blow for blow. And the body count keeps rising. This is how anger works. It rarely stays small. It grows teeth. It multiplies. It escalates until everyone loses. Payback feels powerful—but it always makes situations worse. You know this cycle. A word said in anger leads to another. A jab at the family gathering explodes into a feud. A cold shoulder stretches into years of silence. Nobody remembers how it started, but everyone's still bleeding. The way of Christ is different. He broke the cycle. Instead of retaliation, He chose surrender. Instead of lashing back, He absorbed the cost. At the cross, He stopped the spiral so peace could start. And that's the invitation to us: don't add fuel to the fire. Be stronger. Be resolved. Be the one who ends the cycle. ASK THIS: Where are you stuck in a back-and-forth cycle of conflict right now? How has anger made things bigger than they ever needed to be? What would it cost you to stop escalating and choose peace? How can Jesus' example shape your response? DO THIS: Identify one conflict that's escalating. Decide today: "I will not add fuel." Take a humble step to break the cycle—apologize, soften your tone, or listen first. PRAY THIS: Lord, I don't want to live in the spiral of payback. Help me stop adding fuel. Give me the humility and courage to be a peacemaker like You. Amen. PLAY THIS: "Peace Be Still."

Welcome to The Daily, where we study the Bible verse by verse, chapter by chapter, every day. Today's shout-out goes to Steve Winton from Lakeland, FL. Your commitment through Project23 helps deliver God's Word daily with clarity and conviction. This one's for you. Our text today is Judges 15:3-5 "And Samson said to them, 'This time I shall be innocent in regard to the Philistines, when I do them harm.' So Samson went and caught 300 foxes and took torches. And he turned them tail to tail and put a torch between each pair of tails. And when he had set fire to the torches, he let the foxes go into the standing grain of the Philistines and set fire to the stacked grain and the standing grain, as well as the olive orchards." — Judges 15:3-5 Samson is furious. His wife's father gave her away to another man, and now humiliation burns inside him. So he cooks up a plan—literally. He ties torches between the tails of 300 foxes and lets them loose in Philistine fields, torching grain and olive orchards. For Samson, it felt like justice. For the Philistines, it was destruction. And shortly, the retaliation would escalate. That's the way revenge works—it feels satisfying for a moment, but it never ends there. It multiplies the misery. Revenge never heals your hurt; it multiplies it. When you've been betrayed or wronged, the urge to "get even" screams loud. We daydream about comebacks, plots, or even just the perfect cutting words. And for a moment, it feels powerful. But it never brings peace—it only fans the flames of bitterness. Samson's fire scorched the Philistines, but it also scorched his future. His revenge didn't settle the score; it made the fight bigger. God calls us to a better way. Romans 12:19 says, "Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God, for it is written, 'Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord.'" God can handle justice better than you ever could. Revenge chains you to anger; forgiveness frees you to live. ASK THIS: Where are you tempted to "get even" right now? How have you seen revenge backfire in your life before? Why is it so hard to trust God with justice? What might forgiveness free you from today? DO THIS: Write down the name of the person you want revenge on. Pray: "God, vengeance belongs to You. I give this into Your hands." PRAY THIS: Lord, You see the hurt in my heart. I want revenge, but I choose to release it to You. Free me from bitterness, and help me trust You with justice. Amen. PLAY THIS: "Battle Belongs."