Category: Devotions

The sixth day arrived—creation’s final act. We were never meant to be first. Perhaps God saved the best for last, though what’s certain is this: the last created would become caretakers of all that came before.

But something shifts on this sixth day. Something unprecedented. God declares humanity “very good” while everything else receives only “good.” More remarkably, He says something never spoken before—something profound, almost startling in its intimacy.

Here comes the crescendo: not merely another creature called into being, but a divine consultation, a heavenly deliberation before forming the image-bearers themselves.

The universe had been waiting for this.

“And God said, “Let the land produce living creatures according to their kinds: the livestock, the creatures that move along the ground, and the wild animals, each according to its kind.” And it was so. God made the wild animals according to their kinds, the livestock according to their kinds, and all the creatures that move along the ground according to their kinds. And God saw that it was good. Then God said, “Let us make mankind in our image, in our likeness, so that they may rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky, over the livestock and all the wild animals, and over all the creatures that move along the ground.” So God created mankind in his own image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them. God blessed them and said to them, “Be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it. Rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky and over every living creature that moves on the ground.” Then God said, “I give you every seed-bearing plant on the face of the whole earth and every tree that has fruit with seed in it. They will be yours for food. And to all the beasts of the earth and all the birds in the sky and all the creatures that move along the ground—everything that has the breath of life in it—I give every green plant for food.” And it was so. God saw all that he had made, and it was very good. And there was evening, and there was morning—the sixth day.” (Genesis 1 v 24-31)

Do you see it?

“Then God said, ‘Let us make mankind in our image, in our likeness…'”

Imago Dei—image of God. We were always meant to reflect Him, to mirror the divine. Unlike anything else, we are like God Himself.

For the first time, comes a divine pause.

A consultation. Careful deliberation leading to purposeful decision. Unlike every other day, God isn’t merely commanding existence from the void. Here, before humanity, He stops. He confers.

Let that sink deep.

Notice the plural language: “Let us make…” The Trinity deliberating over creation’s pinnacle. And again, plurality: not man alone, but woman too. Male and female, both bearing the image. Equality in essence and dignity.

We are given purpose born from this divine image:

To govern—not through force, but as wise stewards. To multiply—not simply in number, but by spreading God’s reflection across the earth. To honour the sacred imprint in every soul. To nurture what has been placed in our hands.

Another day closes. Dusk falls, the sixth day finished.

But this day is different. The universe gained witnesses to its beauty, reflections of its Maker, creatures who could know God Himself.

We are those creatures still.

The image may be marred by sin—blurred, cracked like an ancient mirror—but it remains. When we grasp that we bear God’s image, everything changes.

Everything.

Here comes movement. Here comes noise. The silence is broken. Listen—there are so many new sounds.

“And God said, ‘Let the water teem with living creatures, and let birds fly above the earth across the vault of the sky.’ So God created the great creatures of the sea and every living thing with which the water teems and that moves about in it, according to their kinds, and every winged bird according to its kind. And God saw that it was good. God blessed them and said, ‘Be fruitful and increase in number and fill the water in the seas, and let the birds increase on the earth.’ And there was evening, and there was morning—the fifth day.” (Genesis 1:20-23)

Beneath the waves, whales sing their haunting songs that last ten to twenty minutes and travel for miles through the deep. Dolphins communicate in clicks and whistles. Toads boom like foghorns, while pistol shrimp snap their specialised claws with sharp cracks like gunshots. The underwater world becomes a constant chorus of whistles and songs.

Above the surface, the soundscape shifts entirely. Nightingales weave complex melodies with over two hundred distinct phrases. Birds trill and chirp. Geese honk. Eagles release whistling screams. Hawks pierce the air with their cries. Parrots squawk and crows caw. And mockingbirds mimic everything around them.

Though not explicitly mentioned in the text, insects are implied within the broader category of “every living thing that moves.” Crickets chirp by rubbing their wings together. Grasshoppers create buzzing, crackling sounds in a similar fashion. Bees hum as they work.

There’s more beautiful sounds of course. Do you hear them?

During the pandemic, when air traffic ceased and transport fell silent, when even human voices disappeared from the streets, something remarkable happened. Walking into your garden, you could hear a sound rarely noticed before: the sound of creation itself, the sound of the fifth day.

What has happened to our lives when we cannot listen to the sounds of the fifth day?

There is one more thing to note about the fifth day—the power and purpose of blessing. “Be fruitful and increase in number and fill the water in the seas, and let the birds increase on the earth.” God does not simply create and move on. He speaks life and multiplication over His creatures. He desires them to flourish, to spread, to fill their habitats completely.

There is generosity in this blessing. God creates with open hands, calling forth not merely enough life, but teeming, abundant, overflowing life.

Why did He bless them? Because He saw that it was good.

God looks at what He has made and declares it not merely functional or adequate, but good. This reveals something profound about how God views the natural world. The creatures of sea and sky have value not because of what they do for us, but because God made them and delights in them.

They were here before us, and so we are called to steward them, not dominate them. The life in the seas and sky matters to God. He wants His creation to flourish, so we had better care for it well.

Importantly, today, try and listen to the sounds of your world that existed before you did. They are still there.

The calendar begins. Time commences. The rhythm of life is here.

“And God said, “Let there be lights in the vault of the sky to separate the day from the night, and let them serve as signs to mark sacred times, and days and years, and let them be lights in the vault of the sky to give light on the earth.” And it was so. God made two great lights—the greater light to govern the day and the lesser light to govern the night. He also made the stars. God set them in the vault of the sky to give light on the earth, to govern the day and the night, and to separate light from darkness. And God saw that it was good. And there was evening, and there was morning—the fourth day.” (Genesis 1 v 14-19)

Pause here for a moment. Let yourself be astonished.

Consider the sun and moon, positioned within our solar system alongside eight planets and the dwarf planet Pluto. Now imagine this single system as merely one among 100 to 400 billion other planetary systems scattered throughout our galaxy. Our cosmic address reads: The Milky Way—a name the ancient Greeks poetically called “the Milky Circle.” Within our galaxy alone burn between 100 and 400 billion stars. If these numbers haven’t yet overwhelmed you, consider this: astronomers estimate there are approximately two trillion observable galaxies. If we assume the minimum of 100 billion stars per galaxy, the observable universe contains roughly 200 billion trillion stars. (I can’t tell you how long it has taken me to work out these figures from some website on stars and planets, I should have just said there’s a lot of planets and stars out there!) Then … what’s beyond what we can see?! Incomprehensible, that’s what is beyond.

Let’s come back to earth for a moment.

The sun, moon and stars are our cosmic timing device.

Here we are in October 2025 and our day has begun and the night is over, the same structure that we take for granted but created at the beginning of time itself. Every living thing to come has benefited from this purposeful structure to life. We know why, it is to establish the calendar and the clock. But more than this, see the words again, “to mark sacred times”. From the beginning God established sacred moments to encounter Him. Many of us fight the relentlessness of time and the demands within it. . We do everything possible not to miss one another amid our scheduled lives. Yet how often do we overlook God’s original intention, to establish sacred time with us, to inhabit the moments He continually offers? When we fail to pause and witness the beauty of a sunrise or sunset, we miss the very purpose for which time was created. In our neglect, time itself becomes our god.

The invitation still stands for us all. Don’t get lost in the wonder of it all.

When God creates space in your world, He does so with purpose. You are a canvas prepared for something unprecedented to take root and emerge. What breaks through the surface may be visible to everyone around you and that’s good. But the real beauty lies hidden within: the seeds. Future blessings for seasons you haven’t entered yet. Tomorrow’s miracles folded into today’s breakthrough.

“And God said, “Let the water under the sky be gathered to one place, and let dry ground appear.” And it was so. God called the dry ground “land,” and the gathered waters he called “seas.” And God saw that it was good. Then God said, “Let the land produce vegetation: seed-bearing plants and trees on the land that bear fruit with seed in it, according to their various kinds.” And it was so. The land produced vegetation: plants bearing seed according to their kinds and trees bearing fruit with seed in it according to their kinds. And God saw that it was good. And there was evening, and there was morning—the third day.! (Genesis 1 v 9-13)

The third day was a defining moment. When God brings restriction, He does so to create greater shape and purpose. This is His strategy, and it reveals what only He can see.

Who knew that beneath the covering waters, dry land waited to emerge? Only God. Who knew that within that land, vegetation was ready to burst forth? Only God.

The same is true for you. There are things still hidden within you that will only surface when God removes certain connections, when He separates the land from the sea in your life. When He severs ties to lifestyle choices or relationships that have kept your potential submerged, a new season of blessing will emerge. Like the dry ground appearing from beneath the waters, your true identity and calling often surface only when God removes what has been covering it.

The third day was a commanding moment. The land didn’t produce vegetation by its own initiative or desire, it produced because God commanded it to. The potential was always there, buried deep in the soil, waiting dormant beneath the surface. But it took a divine word to draw it out, to awaken what had been sleeping, to call forth what had been hidden.

Perhaps you feel like that dry ground today. Stuck in place, unproductive, waiting endlessly for something, anything, to emerge. God can speak to your dry ground. You don’t need more effort or strategy; you need His Word spoken into your life. The same voice that commanded forests from seed can speak to what lies dormant within you. Spring is coming to your dry ground.

The third day was a double blessing moment.

Did you spot it? God saw that it was good. Twice. While every other day (apart from the second) ends with the famous commentary that God looked around and “saw that it was good,” the third day is a little different. The third day gets two declarations that “it was good.”

The third day was a double blessing moment. Two declarations of goodness. This wasn’t lost on the Jewish people. They recognised the third day of the week as uniquely blessed, which is why weddings were often celebrated on this day. Who wouldn’t want to marry on the day of double blessing?

And a reminder for us all today: we are indeed people of the third day!

From one to two. Separation. Space created. A ceiling dividing the chaos.

“And God said, “Let there be a vault between the waters to separate water from water.” So God made the vault and separated the water under the vault from the water above it. And it was so. God called the vault “sky.” And there was evening, and there was morning—the second day.” (Genesis 1 v 6-8)

The Hebrew word for vault literally is something beaten flat like a metal sheet and used here the ancient peoples must have seen the sky as a solid dome which held back the ocean above and the waters below.

The sky. The amazing sky. Seen by all. Every day a different scene. Yet the only day it is not called good.

Why?

1. It could be because day two was closely connected to day three in that God would then gather the ocean below into seas and then creates land resulting in God declaring it good. On day two the work was unfinished.
2. It could be because of the work of separation. Recently I was involved in helping yet another division. A ministry team was evolving into a new model of leadership. The pain was tangible. A bittersweet  moment because I could see the hand of God. It needed to be done but no one was celebrating at the moment of separating the roles of the team. It didn’t feel good. Good would come but not today.

There have been so many times in my life when having to wait or going through separation has not felt good. It seemed to take such a long time to process. A day can seem like a thousand years can’t it? We always want the pain to be over immediately. However, creation unveils in stages. On day two God is creating by separating. He makes space from the chaos. He places a sky (we know its not a vault but the ancients didn’t) that makes room for life can thrive. Life hasn’t arrived yet, it will come, but for now there is the pain of separation, it doesn’t feel good so let’s not call it that yet, but hold on, God hasn’t finished.

There will be further separations. It seems that this is God’s way. Beauty from a breaking, two boundaries creating the possibility of something new. It may not feel good. But there are separations that bring order from chaos which leads to goodness. If you are in this season hold on. Day two is speaking to you and it calls you to not give up. Hang in. It is not over for you. Space is being created for growth to come. Look up today and be thankful.

The first words. Effortless. Simple. Spoken reality. The divine invitation to order.

 “And God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light. God saw that the light was good, and he separated the light from the darkness. God called the light “day,” and the darkness he called “night.” And there was evening, and there was morning—the first day.” (Genesis 1 v 3-5)

Light wasn’t first. Darkness was. Yet before any of creation came into being God enabled the wonder to be recognised; before the beauty, God established the ability to appreciate it. Light makes relationship possible. Without it, there is no seeing, no knowing, no connection. Before anything else could matter, there had to be the ability to witness that it mattered at all.

Light was evaluated. God didn’t simply create and move on. He paused. He considered. He declared it good; not merely functional, not just useful, but inherently valuable. This first assessment set a pattern: things wouldn’t be judged merely by their usefulness, but by their inherent value. Goodness was woven into the fabric of existence from the very beginning.

Light divided the darkness. Here begins one of the Bible’s most persistent themes: the separation that brings meaning. Where there was only formless void, now there is distinction. Order emerges from chaos. Day and night come into being, not as enemies but as partners in rhythm. Evening and morning dance together, marking the first rhythm of time, the heartbeat by which life would move forward.

And so in the very beginning, before time as we know it, something profound was woven into existence that echoes through every age, even today as you read this: our need for meaning, the value of order and our ability to recognise what is good.

Here is the invitation: to step into order and rhythm from the emptiness and chaos of life; to understand we are called to walk in the light, in the day; and to embrace the possibility that we can discern what is truly good, for we will be able to see.

So let’s start with the opening words. He has always been. He specialises in being present.

“In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters.” (Genesis 1 v 1-2)

Every book, every speech, every journey, every encounter share a common bond. They all had a beginning. Our lives are marked by such moments. We all have beginnings.

Four words that are so powerful, ‘In the beginning God.” Before anything good had been made or bad that destroyed it, He was there.

In the emptiness He was there. In the life-less and the darkness He was there. In the meaningless He was there. In the confusion He was there. Are you getting this? How often we find ourselves in these places. For a whole variety of difficult situations we can be struggling for understanding and trying to find a way out from the chaos.

Before the Bible goes any further here it is, the message that will continue throughout its pages, even in the chaos, we are not abandoned, for He is here.

What is He doing? What He will continue to do throughout history to come. His Spirit will hover over our chaotic state. He has always done that, from the beginning. The Holy Spirit was hovering and the greatest creative, explosive, divinely empowered act took place and He has continued to hover even now, today, with you.

You may be feeling alone but you are not. The Spirit hovers with us, preparing the way for something new, for a creation to take place.

The Spirit hovers over every dark recess in our lives and He does with intention to bring change. You see, God is still creating because He is still hovering. He is still here.

It is always about His presence.

Life can be lived differently to what the world offers. It can be lived in the truth that God is with us. When we know this then we are anchored in something unshakeable.

“The Lord be with your spirit. Grace be with you all.” (2 Timothy 4 v 22)

So what can these final words say to us today?

Our greatest need isn’t for God to change our circumstances or to use us in a situation. Paul knows the deepest need is for God to be present in our very essence. Echoing Jesus’ final words of ‘I will be with you’ Paul’s thoughts are on the presence of the Lord in our lives as being of the most importance. If Timothy is going to make it as a leader in difficult circumstances then the one thing Paul prays for him is the only thing that matters and that is the Lord.

The only thing that matters for your life today is knowing that He is with you.

But then see a slight shift in these last words. Paul knows that Timothy will be reading this letter to the Church. “Grace be with you all.” Paul’s desire is for everyone, Timothy, the leader, the mature and the immature, the faith-filled and the doubter, those marching as saints and those who are hobbling away from sin, to know the unmerited favour of the Lord, grace.

Paul’s final words weren’t just a sign-off. They were visionary words of how life can be lived. With the presence of the Lord then we’re anchored in something unshakeable. When grace surrounds our communities then we can extend to others what we’ve received.

So the last words of 2 Timothy aren’t really an ending. They’re a beginning, an invitation to live blessed and to be a blessing, to experience the Lord’s presence personally and to extend grace to all.

And with that – the New Testament devotions are finished. Every verse written about. Yet I know I’ve only skimmed the service of the treasure that is here in the gospels and the first-century church. I will return often. But now I turn to the Old Testament. Thank you for staying with me. I write for my own soul knowing there are others, like you, reading also. Knowing I am encouraging you in some way is the greatest gift I receive in return.

Not everyone leaves. Some stay with you.

Paul chooses to end with something beautiful; personal greetings from friends.

“Eubulus greets you, and so do Pudens, Linus, Claudia and all the brothers and sisters.” (2 Timothy 4 v 21)

Let’s look at these names who decided to stay.

Eubulus – His name means “good counsellor.” In Paul’s darkest hour, this man remained, did he live up to his name as a source of wisdom and support to Paul?

Pudens – Tradition suggests he was a Roman senator who converted to Christianity. Imagine the courage it took for a member of Rome’s elite to associate with a prisoner such as Paul. Is tradition correct?

Linus – Tradition identifies him as the second Bishop of Rome after Peter. Here we see early church leadership taking shape, continuity being established, even as the apostolic era was ending. Is tradition correct?

Claudia – A woman’s name in a male-dominated world, yet Paul mentions her equally alongside the men. The early church was revolutionary in its inclusion, and Claudia represents the vital role women played in sustaining the faith. What was her exact role?

The Community – All the brothers and sisters. The church wasn’t defined by those who left, but by those who stayed.

These greetings remind us that even in our darkest moments, we’re often more loved and supported than we realise. For Timothy, receiving the letter, it would have been enormously encouraging to know that Paul had companions in his final days.

These weren’t famous people. Sometimes the most powerful ministry we can offer is simply remembering – and helping others feel remembered.

As Paul faced death, he chose to end not with grand theological statements, but with love expressed through the simple act of remembering friends. These greetings remind us that Christianity is fundamentally relational. It’s not just about doctrine or duty, but about real people choosing to love and support each other through the darkest times.

Paul has already told Timothy that he is being poured out like a drink offering and that the time of his execution (his ‘departure’) is very close. He now calls for him to come to him urgently.

“Do your best to get here before winter….” (2 Timothy 4 v 21)

“Timothy come quickly, come now, I need you here promptly.”

Paul likely understood that in the ancient world, winter meant more than just cold weather—it brought all travel to a complete halt. If Timothy failed to arrive before the harsh season began, he wouldn’t be able to make the journey until spring returned. And Paul sensed he wouldn’t live to see another spring.

In a broader sense, winter is perpetually approaching. Not always the winter of death, but seasons of lost chances, unspoken words, and delayed presence that stretches too long.

How often do we act as though the people we cherish will always be available to us? We defer the visit, postpone the call, avoid the hard conversation. We behave as though everyone important to us will remain accessible tomorrow, next month, years from now. Paul recognised a deeper truth. He grasped that love must work within time’s boundaries, and his time was dwindling.

This sense of urgency extends beyond mortality, though death certainly brings it into sharp focus. It reflects the truth that every relationship unfolds within distinct seasons. Children mature and establish their own lives. Parents grow older and require more care. Friends face crises that can’t wait for our schedule to clear.

Paul’s appeal strikes us so deeply because of its precision. He didn’t simply say “visit when possible” but “arrive before winter.” Before the opportunity vanishes. Before conditions make it unreachable. Before the moment passes forever.

History doesn’t tell us whether Timothy succeeded in reaching Rome before Paul’s death. Yet the very request reveals something essential about love’s character: it carries sacred urgency because it recognises how easily opportunities can slip away.

Who requires your presence before their winter arrives? The moment to act is now.