1 Corinthians 4:5 Therefore judge nothing before the time, until the Lord comes, who will both bring to light the hidden things of darkness and reveal the counsels of the hearts. Then each one’s praise will come from God.
I came across a powerful story that I felt led to share with you today.
There was a man who had four sons, and he wanted them to understand the importance of not rushing to judgment. So, he sent each one on a journey to view a pear tree that was far away. He sent the first son in the winter, the second in the spring, the third in the summer, and the youngest in the fall. After they all returned, he gathered them together to hear what they had seen.
The first son said the tree was ugly, bent, and twisted. The second son said it was covered in green buds, full of hope and promise. The third son described it as being full of beautiful blossoms that smelled sweet and were so graceful. But the youngest son said it was full of ripe fruit, heavy with life and fulfillment.
After hearing all their answers, the wise father smiled and said, “Sons, you’re all right—but you’ve only seen one season of the tree’s life. You can’t judge the tree, or anything else, by just one season. Most things can only be understood when all the seasons have passed.”
I think we’ve all been guilty of judging someone or something too quickly, and we’ve probably felt the sting of being judged in the same way. Lord, forgive us! We need to give each other the benefit of the doubt, to take the time to see the bigger picture before making up our minds. Why? Because God does that for us all the time.
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[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]When we read the Beatitudes, we catch a glimpse of Yeshua’s heart and the values that define His Kingdom. His words unveil the kind of life that God calls blessed—marked by humility, mercy, purity of heart, a hunger for righteousness, peacemaking, and faithful endurance in the face of suffering.
We often celebrate beginnings—new chapters, breakthroughs, divine appointments. But in God’s economy, every true beginning requires a holy crossing. Before the Hebrews could enter the Promised Land, they had to leave Egypt. Before they entered the Promised Land, they had to cross over the Red Sea. And before Abraham could receive God’s promises, he had to obey a single command: “Leave.”
When the children of Israel wandered in the wilderness for forty years, they traversed a rugged, unpredictable landscape — mile after mile of mountains, valleys, rocks, and desert sands — as they journeyed from slavery in Egypt to the Promised Land.
For many, God remains a theory—an idea borrowed from tradition, deduced from the cosmos, or tucked quietly into the corners of a creed. He is believed in from afar, but is rarely encountered. Even among believers, it’s not uncommon to live with a distant reverence for God while lacking a vibrant, personal communion with Him.
God has always longed for intimacy with us. He formed us for Himself–to walk with Him, to know Him, to delight in His Presence. This is the very heartbeat of creation: relationship, not religion. Yet sin drove a wedge between us. A veil was drawn, shutting out the light of His face and placing distance where there was once communion.
A beachhead is the first critical objective in a military invasion–the spot where a force lands on enemy territory and secures a position for greater advancement. It’s the place of breakthrough. And it’s also the place of fiercest resistance.
David wrote Psalm 3 while running for his life — betrayed, heartbroken, and hunted by his own son, Absalom. The weight of rebellion wasn’t just political; it was personal. His household had turned against him. Friends became foes. Loyal hearts grew cold. The throne he once held was now surrounded by enemies, and the whispers grew louder: “There is no salvation for him in God.”