Manna Moments
⏱️4 min read
“I Am”: The Name That Holds Every Need
And God said to Moses, “Ehyeh-Asher-Ehyeh,” continuing, “Thus shall you say to the Israelites, ‘Ehyeh sent me to you.’” Exodus 3:14
When God spoke His name to Moses, He wasn’t simply revealing another title or attribute. He was unveiling His very essence—the fullness of who He is. The phrase Ehyeh-Asher-Ehyeh is often translated, “I Am Who I Am,” or “I Will Be Who I Will Be,” a declaration of His eternal, self-sustaining nature.
There’s a vast difference between knowing someone’s name and truly knowing their character. Relationship reveals what a name alone cannot. Throughout Scripture, God’s nature is revealed through the names tied to His actions—Yehovah Yireh, when He opened Abraham’s eyes to the ram in the thicket; Baal-Perazim, the Lord of Breakthroughs, when He burst forth against the Philistines. Each name reflects a moment where God allowed His people to experience a facet of who He is.
But I Am is different. It isn’t a single attribute—it is the source of them all. It is God saying, “I am present. I am enough. I am everything you need in this moment.” We encounter this name every day when we look to Him as our source in every need, longing, or uncertainty.
In Exodus 16, God sent manna from heaven and instructed Israel to gather only what was needed for that day. Anything kept for the next morning spoiled. Through this, God was teaching them that He Himself was their daily sustenance—present tense, not stored up, not hoarded, but received fresh each morning.
Centuries later, Jesus identifies Himself as the Bread of Life in John 6. He draws a direct connection to the manna, yet with one profound difference: those who partake of Him will never die. The manna sustained Israel for a day; Christ sustains us for eternity.
When we look ahead to the future, it’s easy to become tangled in questions and anxieties. What will tomorrow hold? Will I have enough? Will the job come through? Will the promise unfold? When will the dream I’ve carried finally take shape? But God’s name reminds us that He is the God of now. He holds tomorrow, but He invites us to trust Him with today. What He provides in this moment is not lesser than what He will provide later—it is sacred, intentional, and sufficient.
Don’t overlook the manna He’s giving you today. If you need provision, He says, “I Am.” If you’re waiting for a spouse, He says, “I Am.” If anxiety about the future grips your heart, He whispers, “I Am everything you need for this day.”
A few years ago, around Passover, I was wrestling with intense anxiety. I had already committed to counting the omer, as I do each year, but that season I sensed the Holy Spirit prompting me to take communion daily as I counted. So I did. And each day, as I held the bread, the Lord began to show me that He Himself was represented in that bread—my “More Than Enough” for that day. It became a tangible reminder to take life one day at a time, trusting that He held the future securely in His hands. Something shifted in me during that season. I haven’t experienced that level of crippling anxiety since. And whenever anxiety tries to creep back in, I remember: He is my “More Than Enough” today. And peace returns.
He is the God who walks with you today, the God who holds your tomorrow, and when your faith feels thin, the God who has been faithful in your yesterday.
Lord, let me not only know Your Name but experience its meaning every day. Help me pause long enough to recognize who You are to me right now. Open my eyes to the opportunities and provision You’ve placed before me today. You are my El-Shaddai—my All-Sufficient One. Amen.
Manna Moments
⏱️3.5—4 min read
The Curse That Couldn’t Touch God’s People
“So he sent messengers to Balaam the son of Beor… to call for him, saying, ‘Behold, a people came out of Egypt; behold, they have covered the surface of the land, and they are living opposite me. Now, therefore, please come, curse this people for me since they are too mighty for me; perhaps I will be able to defeat them and drive them out of the land. For I know that he whom you bless is blessed, and he whom you curse is cursed.’” Numbers 22:5,6
What exactly is a curse? And can a believer actually be affected by one? Few topics stir more confusion than this one. Just as in biblical times, there are still people today who practice witchcraft or speak harmful words over others. Some do it intentionally, while others curse with their mouths without even realizing it. But the real question is: what impact do these curses have on someone who has a personal relationship with Jesus Christ?
To answer that, we look to the story of Balak and Balaam.
Balak, the king of Moab, was terrified by the rapid growth of Israel—much like Pharaoh in Exodus 1. Driven by fear, he sought Israel’s destruction and hired Balaam to curse them. Balaam, however, made it clear that he could only speak what God allowed. So he sought the Lord. And every time he opened his mouth to curse Israel, blessings poured out instead.
Balak assumed the problem was positioning—“Try cursing them from over here instead”—but no matter where Balaam stood, the outcome was the same. God’s blessing over His people could not be overturned.
So what does this teach us?
First, we need a biblical definition. Strong’s Concordance describes a curse as “a pronouncement that places someone under divine judgment.” Scripture speaks often about curses, but Proverbs 26:2 gives us a crucial key:
“Like a fluttering sparrow or a darting swallow, an undeserved curse will not land on its intended victim.”
This truth is on full display in the Balak–Balaam narrative. No curse could land on Israel because God had not judged them. But later in Numbers 25, Israel does fall under judgment—not because of a curse, but because of compromise.
God had repeatedly warned them not to mingle with the surrounding nations lest they fall into idolatry. Yet that is exactly what happened. Their downfall wasn’t the result of witchcraft; it was the result of disobedience.
From the beginning, God established a clear principle: Walk in His ways, and blessing follows. Walk in rebellion, and you open the door to judgment (Deut. 28).
Christ has redeemed us from the curse of the law, giving us eternal life—but obedience still matters. Our choices still bear fruit—either good or bad.
Another open door: the words we speak
Proverbs 18:21 reminds us:
“Death and life are in the power of the tongue, and those who love it will eat its fruit.”
Words are seeds. They produce something—either life or death. When we agree with negativity, fear, or lies, we unintentionally align ourselves with curses. But when we speak life—over ourselves, our families, our homes, and our circumstances—we cultivate blessing.
Watch what happens when you intentionally shift your speech. Atmospheres change. Hearts soften. Faith rises. Even your own internal world begins to transform.
In the end
As long as you walk in God’s ways, His blessing rests on you. His judgment—not the words of others—is what ultimately stands. And for those who belong to Him, His judgment is mercy, protection, and favor.
May His verdict over your life always be blessing.
Lord, make us mindful of our actions and the words we speak. Align our hearts, our choices, and our language with Your ways. Thank You for going before us and surrounding us with Your divine protection. Amen.
Manna Moments
⏱️4 min read
Saul and Ananias: What Our Response to God Reveals
“Now as he was traveling, it happened that he was approaching Damascus, and suddenly a light from heaven flashed around him; and he fell to the ground and heard a voice saying to him, ‘Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting Me?’ And he said, ‘Who are You, Lord?’ And He said, ‘I am Jesus whom you are persecuting, but get up and enter the city, and it will be told to you what you must do.’” Acts 9:3-6
Saul was no ordinary student of the Law. He was trained under Gamaliel—the revered rabbi and leading authority of the Sanhedrin. In Acts 22, Saul describes himself as zealous for God, so convinced of his righteousness that he imprisoned and even approved the death of followers of Jesus. In the eyes of the Sanhedrin, he was the ideal Pharisee: disciplined, knowledgeable, and fiercely committed to the written Torah and the oral traditions. To all appearances, he embodied what many would have called the “model believer” of his time.
But on the road to Damascus, while traveling to carry out what he believed was God’s work, everything changed. A blinding light stopped him in his tracks, and a voice called his name twice: “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute Me?” His response exposed the truth beneath all the credentials and zeal: “Who are You, Lord?”
Meanwhile, in Damascus, another man was hearing from God—Ananias, a disciple of Jesus. When the Lord called his name, his response was simple and intimate: “Here I am, Lord.”
Two men. Two callings. Two replies that reveal two very different hearts.
Saul had the pedigree, the platform, and the public approval. He had the Scriptures memorized and the religious leaders’ respect. Yet in all his knowledge, he did not recognize the voice of the God he claimed to serve. He carried a form of godliness, but his heart was misaligned—beautiful on the outside, but hollow within, like a whitewashed tomb.
Ananias, by contrast, was a faithful man who honored the law and was respected among the local Jews, yet he carried no titles, held no platform, and wielded no public influence. What he did have was a heart tuned to the Shepherd’s voice. So when Jesus asked him to do something costly—to receive the very man who had terrorized believers—Ananias responded with obedience. He trusted. He yielded. He surrendered.
Following Christ has never been about appearance, influence, or spiritual intensity. It is shaped in the quiet places—where obedience costs us something, where surrender feels risky, and where trust leads us down roads we would not choose on our own. Jesus Himself walked that path, and He invites His disciples to do the same.
In every generation, the temptation to become a “celebrity Christian” remains. But the invitation of Jesus remains too: to be faithful, surrendered, and attentive to His voice.
The question isn’t simply whether we will be a Saul or an Ananias. The deeper question is this: When God calls your name, will your heart answer with recognition?
Lord, quiet my heart so I can recognize Your voice above every other. Strip away the appearances, the striving, and the desire to be seen, and form in me the kind of obedience that responds, “Here I am, Lord.” Amen.
Manna Moments
⏱️3 min read
The Valley Between Two Kings
“Then Melchizedek king of Salem brought out bread and wine; he was the priest of God Most High. And he blessed him and said: ‘Blessed be Abram of God Most High, Possessor of heaven and earth; And blessed be God Most High, Who has delivered your enemies into your hand.’ And he gave him a tithe of all.” Genesis 14:18-20
We’ve all heard the familiar phrase, “New levels, new devils.” But does that idea consistently align with Scripture? The saying suggests that every step forward in spiritual growth automatically brings a fiercer battle. Yet often the real challenge isn’t the warfare at all—it’s the testing of our surrender.
Abraham’s story illustrates this beautifully. God calls him to leave his country, his relatives, and his father’s house, promising to make him a great nation, to give him a great name, and to bless all the families of the earth through him. So Abram sets out with his wife, his possessions, his servants—literally “souls,” as the Hebrew implies—and, of course, his nephew Lot. Together they journey toward Canaan.
After a famine forces them into Egypt and back again, their growing wealth creates tension. Their herdsmen begin to quarrel, and the land can no longer support both households. They decide to part ways. In that moment, Abram steps into the full obedience God had asked for from the beginning. And immediately, God finalizes the promise—inviting Abram to walk the length and width of the land, a customary act in the ancient world to seal a claim of ownership.
That obedience ushers Abram into a new level of influence. Soon after, he finds himself drawn into a regional conflict when Lot is taken captive. Abram gathers 318 of his trained men, defeats the invading kings, and rescues his nephew. But it’s on the return journey that the true test appears. In the Valley of Siddim, Abram is met by two kings: Melchizedek, king of Salem, offering bread, wine, and a blessing—and the king of Sodom, offering the spoils of victory. Abram chooses to honor Melchizedek by giving him a tenth of the spoils, while rejecting the offer from the king of Sodom.
Abram’s response in that valley reveals the heart of true spiritual maturity. Faced with two kings, he chooses not the path of gain but the path of honor. He gives a tenth to Melchizedek, acknowledging God as the source of his victory, and refuses to take even “a thread or sandal strap” from the king of Sodom. In doing so, Abram shows us that the “next level” isn’t about acquiring more—it’s about surrendering more. New levels don’t necessarily demand that we fight bigger devils; they invite us to become a person of honor—one who trusts God enough to give rather than take, and to walk away from anything that would claim credit for what only God can do.
Lord, keep us faithful in the season ahead. Steady our hearts, purify our motives, and help us grow through surrender as You lead us to the next level.
Manna Moments
⏱️4 min read
Redeeming the Unfulfilled Legacy
“And Terah took Abram his son and Lot son of Haran, his grandson, and Sarai his daughter-in-law, the wife of his son Abram, and he took them out with him from Ur of the Chaldees toward the land of Canaan, and they came to Haran and settled there. And the days of Terah were two hundred and five years, and Terah died in Haran.” Genesis 11:31, 32.
I’ve always found it fascinating that Scripture records ten generations from Adam to Noah, and then another ten from Noah to Terah. In the genealogy, Noah’s three sons are named, and the next time we see another set of three sons mentioned is with Terah. It becomes clear from the biblical narrative that the call to leave Ur—the city devoted to the moon god—came first to Terah. Joshua 24:2 confirms that Abraham’s ancestors, including Terah, served other gods. Though God invited Terah to separate himself from idolatry and journey toward Canaan, the land of promise, Terah chose instead to stop and remain in Haran.
Haran sat on a major trade route, positioned between Ur and Canaan. BibleHub notes that it was the center of moon‑god worship. Jewish tradition even describes Terah as an idol maker. Was the pull of his old life simply too strong to leave behind? Interestingly, the name Haran means “crossroads”, and it is here that Terah settled.
We all encounter crossroads of our own—moments where choices must be made. God has a purpose for each of us, but we must choose to walk in it. And often, stepping into a new season requires leaving something behind from the old one.
If your parents or grandparents didn’t walk in the fullness of what God intended for them, that doesn’t mean He lacked a plan for them, nor does it mean He lacks one for you. You are not bound to repeat the sins or patterns of previous generations. Abraham—called the father of faith—grew up surrounded by idolatry, yet when God’s call came to him, he picked up what his father had abandoned. Against everything familiar, he set out toward a land he had never seen.
It’s striking how resting too long can quietly turn into remaining. What begins as a pause can become a place of settling. Paul’s words in Galatians 5:7–9 echo this truth:
“You were running well; who hindered you from obeying the truth? This persuasion did not come from Him who calls you. A little leaven leavens the whole lump.”
Compromise and mixture keep us from finishing the race. They cause us to settle for less than God’s best. If you’ve watched previous generations stop short of God’s promises, don’t be afraid to pick up the baton and keep running. There is a legacy waiting for those who come after you.
Lord, open my eyes to the spiritual inheritance left unfinished in my family line. Strengthen me to run the race set before me and to steward well the generation that follows.
Manna Moments
⏱️3-4 min read
The Weight of One Talent: A Call to Multiply
“Then he who had received the one talent came and said, ‘Lord, I knew you to be a hard man, reaping where you have not sown, and gathering where you have not scattered seed. And I was afraid, and went and hid your talent in the ground. Look, there you have what is yours.’” Matthew 25:24-25
The parable of the talents tells of a master who, before traveling, entrusts his servants with his wealth. A similar account appears in Luke 19. In Matthew’s version, the amounts are staggering—five talents, two talents, and one talent—each talent worth 6,000 denarii, or roughly 16–20 years of wages. The master’s trust in his servants is unmistakable.
The first two servants invest what they’ve been given and see it multiply. The last servant, however, buries his talent in the ground. In Luke’s account, he hides a mina—about three months’ wages—wrapped in a soudarion. When the master returns, the faithful servants are rewarded, while the fearful one is sharply rebuked.
So what does this mean for us? God has placed extraordinary resources within each of us. Even those who feel they have “the least” have been entrusted with far more than they realize. Our calling remains the same: to be fruitful, to steward well, and to multiply what God has placed in our hands—our gifts, our time, our finances, and every opportunity within our God-given boundaries.
Yet the enemy works hard to keep us from our purpose. One tactic is to diminish the value of what God has deposited in us. Both parables show that even the smallest portion was still a massive gift. When we believe we have nothing to offer, self-pity sets in, leading to stagnation and stunted growth. Isolation becomes the enemy’s tool to keep us from stepping forward.
Fear is another powerful weapon. The last servant acted out of fear—fear of failure, fear of judgment, fear of making things worse. While caution has its place, it should never override obedience. Throughout Scripture—Abraham, Gideon, Rahab, Naomi, Peter, Paul—we see God calling people out of comfort and into courage.
These destructive influences lead to one outcome: death. In Matthew, the talent is buried like a corpse. In Luke, the mina is wrapped in a soudarion—a cloth used for sweat by laborers, implying unwillingness to work, and in Hebrew tradition, used to wrap the head of the dead. In both cases, the entrusted resource is treated as lifeless, unable to grow or multiply.
But this is not the story God intends for us. What He places in us is meant to live and multiply. When we recognize the value of His deposit and step forward in faith, even small acts of obedience become seeds of abundance.
Lord, open our eyes to the abundance You’ve placed within us. Strengthen us with courage, hope, and faith to step forward and steward well what You’ve entrusted to us. May we be fruitful and multiply according to the grace You’ve given to each of us, until You return.
Manna Moments
⏱️3 min read
The God Who Goes Before You
“If you say in your heart, ‘These nations are greater than I; how can I dispossess them?’ 18you are not to be afraid of them; you shall remember well what the LORD your God did to Pharaoh and to all Egypt: 19the great trials which your eyes saw and the signs and the wonders, and the mighty hand and the outstretched arm by which the LORD your God brought you out. The LORD your God will do the same to all the peoples of whom you are afraid. 20Indeed, the LORD your God will send the hornet against them, until those who are left and hide themselves from you perish. 21You are not to be terrified of them, because the LORD your God is in your midst, a great and awesome God.” Deuteronomy 7:17-21
What an incredible promise these verses hold. Moses is speaking to the new generation standing on the threshold of the Promised Land. Their parents and grandparents never entered because of unbelief, and now their children are preparing to step into what was forfeited before. Yet the land they are about to inherit is occupied by nations far stronger than they are. Even so, God’s instructions were unmistakably clear: they were not to intermarry with these nations, form alliances with them, or show pity—because compromise would lure them into idolatry.
The previous generation had been enslaved by one oppressive power—Egypt. To strengthen their faith, God displayed miracle after miracle, proving that He alone is God and that no false deity could stand against Him.
Now this younger generation—everyone under twenty except Joshua and Caleb—stands before Moses as he repeats the same words he spoke four decades earlier. But this time, they aren’t confronting a single nation; they’re facing many.
Isn’t that often how God leads us? We move from faith to faith.
“For in it the righteousness of God is revealed from faith to faith, as it is written: ‘The righteous shall live by faith.’”
Romans 1:17
Two truths rise from this previously mentioned Deuteronomy passage.
First, to face the greater challenges ahead, we must remember how God delivered us before. Revelation 12:11 reminds us that we overcome “by the word of our testimony.” Our history with God fuels our courage for what’s next.
Second, God promises to “send the hornet” to drive out enemies we cannot see—those hidden threats attached to our promise. There are obstacles we don’t even know exist, but God knows exactly where they are and how to remove them.
The promise always comes wrapped with opposition, but none of it is hidden from God. While we may feel the urge to understand and control every detail, He reassures us that He is the one who goes before us. The victories of the last season are meant to anchor our faith for the season ahead.
He is for you. He desires for you to enjoy the goodness of the land He’s leading you into. And He will move ahead of you—driving out every enemy, seen and unseen. Your part is simply to stand firm and move forward in faith.
Manna Moments
⏱️3 min read
Yehovah Yireh: A Name We Thought We Knew
And Abraham called the name of that place Adonai-yireh; as it is said to this day: 'In the mount of the Lord, he will be seen.' Genesis 22:14
Yehovah Yireh—often rendered in English as Jehovah Jireh—is one of the most familiar names of God. We’ve heard it proclaimed in sermons, spoken it as encouragement, and sung it in worship. Yet familiarity can sometimes obscure meaning. Have we truly understood what this name reveals about God?
Most English translations interpret yireh as “provide,” but the Hebrew text does not use a verb meaning “to provide” or “to give.” Instead, it comes from the Hebrew root ra’ah, which means “to see.” Hebrew has several words that explicitly convey the idea of providing, yet the author intentionally chooses a word centered on sight. This raises an important question: What does this passage actually mean?
In Genesis 22, the phrase Adonai-yireh is more accurately translated “The Lord sees.” The second half of the verse can be rendered, “On the mount of the Lord, He will be seen.” Some Hebrew manuscripts even use ra’ah as a noun, giving the sense, “On the mount of the Lord, there is sight.” In every case, the spiritual implication is far deeper than the simplified idea of “God will provide.” The text invites us to consider both literal and spiritual significance.
The location itself reinforces this meaning. God directs Abraham to “a mount in the land of Moriah.” After God shows him the place, Abraham declares, “On the mount of the Lord, He will be seen.” Later, in 2 Chronicles 3:1, we learn that this very mountain becomes the site of Solomon’s Temple—what we now call the Temple Mount. It is the place where the glory of God chose to be seen by His priests. The theme of divine sight and divine revelation is woven throughout the geography and the narrative.
So what does this mean for us today? The implications reach far beyond God meeting our immediate needs. When we ascend God’s holy mountain in worship, surrender, and communion, He is seen. This is precisely what Abraham did. He brought his worship, his obedience, his very heart to God—and in that place of surrender, God allowed him to see what had been before him all along. In God’s presence, our vision aligns with His. He enables us to perceive what we need to see in order to move forward according to His will.
Psalm 24:3–5 mirrors this invitation:
“Who may ascend into the hill of the Lord?
Or who may stand in His holy place?
He who has clean hands and a pure heart,
Who has not lifted up his soul to an idol,
Nor sworn deceitfully.
He shall receive blessing from the Lord,
And righteousness from the God of his salvation.”
In Revelation 4:1, God says to John, “Come up here, and I will show you…” The pattern is consistent: ascent leads to sight. As sons and daughters of God, we have access to His holy hill. We are invited into the place where He reveals what we could not see on our own.
May our prayer reflect Abraham’s revelation:
Lord, open our eyes. Help us perceive You and the provision required for the path ahead.
Manna Moments
⏱️3-4 min read
The Quiet Danger of Contempt
“Then Jacob gave Esau bread and lentil stew; and he ate and drank, and got up and went on his way. So Esau despised his birthright.” Genesis 25:34
“Despise.”
It’s a jarring word, isn’t it? Why would Esau look with such disdain on the extraordinary privilege he held as the firstborn? He stood to receive a double portion of the inheritance and step into the honored role of family leader. What could make someone treat such a gift with contempt?
To understand this, we have to look at the Hebrew meaning of the word used in this verse. Scripture uses several terms for “despise,” but in this passage the word is bazah—a word that describes an inner posture of the heart. According to the BDB dictionary, it means to consider something worthless.
Esau didn’t hate his birthright. He simply didn’t value it. He treated a God‑given treasure as if it were nothing—and traded it away for a bowl of lentils and bread.
We see this same word again in another familiar story:
“When the Philistine looked and saw David, he despised him because he was just a boy, ruddy and handsome.” —1 Samuel 17:42
Goliath looked at David and saw only a child. He completely underestimated what stood before him. He didn’t realize that God had been shaping David for this very moment.
So how does this speak to us today?
What gifts—what sacred treasures—has God placed in our lives that we may have overlooked? Have we grown so accustomed to His goodness that we’ve begun to treat it as ordinary? Life’s routines can dull our awareness, and over time, what once filled us with gratitude can start to feel common or even burdensome.
Zechariah 4:10 gives us another warning: “Do not despise the day of small beginnings.”
Here, the Hebrew word is buz, closely related in meaning. Again, the caution is the same—don’t treat as insignificant what God calls valuable.
Maybe you’re in a season that feels small, slow, or hidden. Maybe you’re working a job that seems beneath your qualifications. Maybe you’re in a quiet place that feels lonely or overlooked. But what if this season is God’s invitation—His gentle nudge—to draw closer, to listen, to grow?
Perspective changes everything. Gratitude reorients the heart.
Lord, help us see with renewed eyes the precious gifts You’ve placed in our lives. Teach us not to treat lightly what You call significant.
Manna Moments
⏱️3 min read
A Sacrifice of Devotion
“An outward observance without any real inward meaning is just a ceremony. A rite which has a present spiritual meaning is a symbol; if it…also points to a future reality, conveying at the same time…the blessing that is yet to appear, it is a type” (A. Edersheim, 1874).
According to Hebrews 10:1, even the sacrifices were a type and shadow that point to Christ.
Every morning and every evening a voluntary whole burnt offering was offered to the Lord. This offering was also called “the sacrifice of devotion.” There are two Hebrew words that are used together when speaking of the whole burnt offering: “olah,” which means “to go up” or “ascend.” The second word is “kalil,” which means “whole” or “entire.” The whole sacrifice was to be offered to the Lord and burned - unlike other blood sacrifices where the priest would eat of the meat.
It’s amazing, if we think about it, how we so eagerly offer our devotion to the Lord when we are overwhelmed with feelings of gratitude and zeal - whether we are surrounded with like-minded worshippers on Sunday or stirred by sounds of praise streaming through our favorite playlists. Surely the Lord is pleased with those moments. Yet what happens when the week presses in reminding us of heavier burdens - the wayward child, the looming diagnosis, the strained marriage, the empty bank account, the ache of loneliness that may come from a newly empty nest or the single person longing for a help mate? Why do we find it so hard to lay those weights upon the altar, surrendering them fully as a sacrifice?
God wants it all! He wants the whole burnt offering, the “kalil,” - nothing held back. We are that offering of devotion that we lay down to the Lord at the beginning and ending of each day. This voluntary laying down of self includes our plans, our will, our trust, our faults, our children, our family, our jobs, our ministry - everything offered in utter devotion to the Alpha and Omega of our days. In Him is our beginning and in Him is our ending. As we place ourselves on His altar, we remember that the consuming fire of the sacrifice was not one of judgement but of acceptance as “a sweet aroma of Christ”(2 Cor.2:15). And it is in this daily surrender of devotion that He assures us: “I will meet you to speak with you” (Exodus 29:42).