Some days the pull of old habits feels loud, and the path of obedience feels narrow. Galatians 5:16 doesn’t just give a command; it gives a promise: there is a way to live where desire doesn’t get the final word—where God’s Spirit becomes the steady guide for your next step.

The Moment-to-Moment Walk

God doesn’t ask you to win your whole week in one heroic decision. He calls you to walk—step by step, breath by breath—staying close enough to hear His prompting. “So I say, walk by the Spirit, and you will not gratify the desires of the flesh.” (Galatians 5:16) That word “walk” is wonderfully ordinary. It means you can begin again right now, even if you stumbled ten minutes ago.

And this walk isn’t powered by willpower; it’s fueled by communion. Jesus said, “I am the vine; you are the branches… For apart from Me you can do nothing.” (John 15:5) Staying connected changes what you want, not just what you do. The Spirit doesn’t merely restrain sin; He grows new life—fruit that looks like Jesus in real time.

Naming the Tug of the Flesh

The flesh isn’t just “bad behavior”; it’s that inner instinct to run life without God—seeking comfort, control, approval, or escape on our own terms. Scripture is plain about the battle: “Those who live according to the flesh set their minds on the things of the flesh; but those who live according to the Spirit set their minds on the things of the Spirit. The mind of the flesh is death, but the mind of the Spirit is life and peace.” (Romans 8:5–6) Where your mind settles, your life follows.

So get honest about the first tug. Temptation often starts small, like a whisper that you deserve this, you need this, you can hide this. “Each one is tempted when by his own evil desires he is lured away and enticed.” (James 1:14) The Spirit helps you catch it early—not with shame, but with clarity—so you can bring the desire into the light and choose a better voice to obey.

Choosing Light When the Night Feels Loud

On a night when darkness gets marketed as fun or fascinating, the call of Christ is quietly radical: don’t be impressed by shadows when you belong to the Light. “For you were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Walk as children of light.” (Ephesians 5:8) Not frightened, not withdrawn—just steadily radiant, refusing to make peace with what Jesus died to free you from.

This is practical. When you feel the pull, pause and pray; open the Word; text a trusted believer; replace the old pattern with a Spirit-led one. God’s light is not fragile: “The Light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” (John 1:5) You’re not trying to be strong alone—you’re choosing to stay near the One who is.

Father, thank You for Your Spirit who leads me in truth. Help me walk by the Spirit today—turning from the flesh, choosing Your light, and obeying quickly for Your glory. Amen.

We delude ourselves when we try to turn our just punishments into a cross and rejoice over that for which we should rather repent. "For what glory is it, if, when ye be buffeted for your faults, ye shall take it patiently" but if, when ye do well, and suffer for it, ye take it patiently, this is acceptable with God? (1 Peter 2:20) . The cross is always in the way of righteousness. We feel the pain of the cross only when we suffer for Christ's sake by our own willing choice. I think that there is also another kind of suffering, one that does not fall into either of the categories considered above. It comes neither from the rod nor from the cross, not being imposed as a moral corrective nor suffered as a result of our Christian life and testimony. It comes in the course of nature and arises from the many ills flesh is heir to. It visits all alike in a greater or lesser degree and would appear to have no clear spiritual significance. Its source may be fire, flood, bereavement, injuries, accidents, illness, old age, weariness or the upset conditions of the world generally. What are we to do about this? Well, some great souls have managed to turn even these neutral afflictions to good. By prayer and self-abasement they wooed adversity to become their friend and made rough distress a teacher to instruct them in the heavenly arts. May we not emulate them?

I will bless thee . . . and be thou a blessing. - Genesis 12:2

There are two kinds of blessing which answer to one another - God’s blessing of man and man’s blessing of God. The one is communicative, the other receptive and responsive. The one is the great stream which pours itself over the precipice, the other is the basin into which it falls, and the showers of spray which rise from its surface, rainbowed in the sunshine, as the cataract of Divine mercies comes down upon it. God blesses us when He gives. We bless God when we thankfully take, and praise the Giver. God’s blessing, then, must ever come first. We love Him because He first loved us. Ours is but the echo of His; but the acknowledgment of the Divine act, which must precede our recognition of it, as the dawn must come in order that the birds may wake to sing.

Our highest service is to take the gifts of God, and with glad hearts to praise the Giver. Our blessings are but words. God’s blessings are realities. We wish good to one another when we bless each other. But He does good to men when He blesses them. Our wishes may be deep and warm, but, alas! how ineffectual; they flutter round the heads of those whom we would bless, but how seldom do they actually rest upon their brows! But God’s blessings are powers; they never miss their mark. Whom He blesses are blessed indeed. The channel through which God’s blessings come is - "out of Zion." For the Jew, the fulness of the Divine glory dwelt between the Cherubim, and the richest of the Divine blessings were bestowed on the waiting worshipers there. And no doubt it is still true that God dwells in Zion, and blesses men from thence. The correspondence in Christianity to the temple where God dwelt and from which He scattered His blessings is twofold - one proper and original, the other secondary and derived. In the true sense, Jesus Christ is the Temple. In Him God dwelt; in Him man meets God; in Him was the place of Revelation; in Him the place of Sacrifice. "In this place is one greater than the temple"; and the abiding of Jehovah above the mercy-seat was but a material symbol, shadowing and foretelling the true indwelling of all the fulness of the Godhead bodily in that true tabernacle which the Lord hath pitched and not man. So the great Fountain of all possible good and benediction, which was opened for the believing Jew in " Zion," is open for us in Jesus Christ, who stood in the very court of the temple, and called in tones of clear, loud invitation: "If any man thirst, let him come unto Me and drink." We may each pass through the rent veil into the holiest of all, and there, laying our hand on Jesus, touch God. and opening our empty palm extended to Him, can receive from Him all the blessing that we need. There is another application of the temple symbol in the New Testament - a derivative and secondary one - to the Church, that is, to the aggregate of believers. In that Zion all God’s best blessings are possessed and stored, that the Church may, by faithful service, impart them to the world. Whosoever desires to possess these blessings must enter thither, not by any ceremonial act or outward profession, but by becoming one of those who put their whole heart’s confidence in Jesus Christ. If we are knit to Christ by our faith, we share, in proportion to our faith, in all the wealth of blessing with which God has blessed Him, We possess Christ and in Him all.