In John 11, Jesus steps into the pain and sorrow of Lazarus’s death with a powerful declaration: “I am the resurrection and the life.” This moment is deeply personal—Martha and Mary are grieving the loss of their brother, and their faith is mingled with heartbreak. Jesus doesn’t offer philosophical comfort or theological argument; He offers Himself. His presence, His identity, and His authority over death shift the focus from what has been lost to who stands before them. This is not a promise for someday—it is a present reality. Jesus isn’t just the one who brings resurrection; He is resurrection. He isn’t just the giver of life; He is life itself.

The raising of Lazarus is both a compassionate miracle and a prophetic sign. It confirms Jesus’ divine power and foreshadows His own resurrection. Jesus weeps at the tomb, showing His deep empathy, but He also calls Lazarus forth, revealing His supremacy over death. He does this knowing that it will accelerate the path to His own crucifixion. In essence, Jesus gives Lazarus life at the cost of His own. Through this act, He shows that belief in Him transforms death from a dead end into a doorway. Those who believe in Him will live, even if they die physically—and that life begins now, not just after the grave.

For us, this truth means everything. We don’t just cling to a future hope—we are invited into a present relationship. Jesus’ claim confronts our fears and lifts our eyes. Whether we are grieving, doubting, or struggling to believe, Jesus meets us with both compassion and power. He is enough. To get deeper with Jesus is to place our trust not in outcomes, but in the One who holds the keys to life and death. His resurrection is not only historical—it is personal. Today, He still calls the dead to life, still invites us to believe, and still offers the hope that transforms every tomb into a testimony.

Today’s episode takes listeners deep into the heart of Jesus’ statement in John 14:6: “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” Spoken during the Last Supper, this bold and tender declaration was Jesus’ answer to His disciples’ fear and confusion as He prepared for the cross. In saying "I am," Jesus echoes the divine name revealed to Moses, affirming His identity as God. Each part of the statement—"the way," "the truth," and "the life"—is not a theological abstraction, but a personal invitation to know, trust, and follow Jesus as the path to God, the foundation of reality, and the source of eternal life.

We break down the power and exclusivity of this claim. Jesus as the Way points to Himself not merely as a teacher of the path, but the path itself—our guide back to the Father. As the Truth, Jesus is the reliable anchor in a world filled with relativism and confusion; His truth is liberating and transformative, exposing lies and bringing spiritual freedom. And as the Life, Jesus offers zoe—abundant, eternal life—not just after death, but now. While the claim “no one comes to the Father except through me” is exclusive, it is also radically gracious: all are invited, because only Jesus is uniquely qualified to offer salvation.

In the final section, listeners are encouraged to respond personally and practically: to trust Jesus for guidance, to soak in His truth through Scripture, to draw life from Him daily, and to share His love with others. The episode closes by reminding us that Jesus does not just show us the way to God—He is God’s way to us. In a world full of lost roads and false hopes, Christ alone offers a sure and living path.

As our special series, 10:10 with Jesus: A Deeper Look, continues today, we reflect on one of the most striking acts of humility and love in the life of Christ—Jesus washing the disciples’ feet in John 13. This wasn’t merely a gesture of kindness but a profound teaching moment. Jesus, fully aware of His divine authority, chooses to serve in the lowest role, showing His disciples that true greatness in the kingdom of God is found in humility and service. His example confronts our pride and redefines leadership—not as dominance, but as sacrifice.

The episode unpacks how Jesus not only models servanthood but clearly identifies Himself as a servant, especially in passages like Luke 22:27 and Mark 10:45, where He declares that He came “not to be served but to serve.” This identity shaped the early church’s mission and ethos, from Acts to Paul’s epistles. The episode challenges listeners to consider what it means to live in a culture of the towel, where we embody foot-washing humility in daily life. Serving others—especially when unnoticed or inconvenient—becomes the path to blessing, transformation, and deeper intimacy with Christ.

Ultimately, the towel points to the cross. Jesus’ act of washing feet prefigures His ultimate act of cleansing through His death. As the episode draws to a close, listeners are invited to consider where God is calling them to “pick up the towel” in their own lives. The devotional closes with a prayer and a reminder that thriving in Christ means learning to stoop, serve, and love in ways that reflect the gospel.

Today’s episode centers on Jesus’ profound declaration in John 8:12: “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.” Spoken during the Feast of Tabernacles—when temple lamps symbolized God's guidance in the wilderness—this statement reveals Jesus as the fulfillment of God’s presence and direction. He is not just a symbolic light but the divine source of spiritual clarity, truth, and life. In the setting of a heated exchange with the Pharisees, Jesus boldly claims His heavenly origin and exclusive authority to lead people out of spiritual darkness.

The episode explores several key truths that Jesus reveals by calling Himself the Light of the World. He exposes sin and falsehood, offers hope and guidance, and brings life and transformation to those who follow Him. His light not only illuminates the path forward but demands a response—inviting us into belief, discipleship, and reflection of His radiance. Jesus’ other “light” statements across the Gospels reinforce His mission to bring salvation and His call for believers to become “sons of light,” shining with His presence in a darkened world.

By referencing both Old Testament imagery and New Testament fulfillment, the devotional encourages listeners to embrace the light of Christ as more than comfort—it is an identity and calling. The episode closes with Lauren Daigle’s “Light of the World” and a prayer of gratitude for Jesus’ guiding presence. Listeners are reminded that following Jesus is the only way to walk in truth, find lasting hope, and live abundantly.

In John 10:9-10, Jesus declares, “I am the door,” revealing a profound truth about His role as both the access point to salvation and the ongoing source of spiritual provision. In the shepherding culture of first-century Judea, sheepfolds had a single opening, and at night, the shepherd would often lie across that gap—literally becoming the door to guard and protect the flock. With this context, Jesus is not only inviting us in, but also pledging to personally protect, lead, and nourish those who belong to Him. “Go in and out and find pasture” was a Hebrew idiom for peace, security, and blessing—promises rooted in Old Testament passages like Psalm 121:8 and Deuteronomy 28:6, now fulfilled in the person of Christ.

Jesus contrasts His mission with that of “the thief” who comes to steal, kill, and destroy. In stark opposition, He comes to give life—life that is full, rich, and overflowing. This abundant life is not about material wealth or worldly comfort but about spiritual vitality, eternal purpose, and deep communion with God. It is peace that sustains in hardship, joy that strengthens in sorrow, and hope that endures through every trial. Jesus is offering more than rescue from danger; He offers restoration into wholeness and an enduring relationship with the Good Shepherd who never leaves nor forsakes His sheep.

To enter by Jesus is to embrace the only true path to God. It is to find pasture—not only future promise, but present provision. In Him, we are safe, we are known, and we are sustained. Every day becomes an invitation to trust the Shepherd who laid down His life for the sheep and now leads us in and out with watchful care. This is not shallow religion—it is abundant life in Christ, marked by freedom, nourishment, and the deep assurance that we are always in the care of the One who is both the Door and the Shepherd.

We have just launched a new series. 10:10 with Jesus: A Deeper Look.

The Gospel of John is a tremendous gift – offering us profound insights into Jesus' identity, mission, teachings, character, and ongoing work in the world.

We need to get deeper with Jesus because a surface-level relationship will never satisfy the depth of our need or the depth of His love. Life is complex, painful, and filled with challenges that simple answers and shallow faith can’t address. A deeper relationship with Jesus gives us spiritual roots: roots that anchor us in truth when emotions waver, when trials shake us, and when the world pulls us in a hundred different directions.

Understanding that Jesus is the vine and the bread of life helps us get deep by revealing that He is not just a guide or example but our very source of life and sustenance. As the vine, He is the one through whom we receive strength, growth, and the ability to bear fruit; apart from Him, we wither. As the bread of life, He nourishes our souls in a way nothing else can: He fills the hunger we carry for meaning, belonging, and peace. Together, these metaphors teach us that going deeper with Jesus isn’t about achieving more, but about staying connected, abiding, and depending on Him moment by moment for everything we truly need.

In calling Himself the Good Shepherd, Jesus declares that His leadership is not driven by control but by sacrificial love. This identity is more than a title; it is a lifeline for a weary, wandering people.

When Jesus declares, “I am the good shepherd,” He draws from rich biblical tradition and personal compassion to reveal His deep, sacrificial love for His people. Unlike hired hands who flee at danger, Jesus presents Himself as the one who protects, knows, and lays down His life for the sheep. His statement echoes themes from earlier teachings where He described people as “sheep without a shepherd” and shared stories like the parable of the lost sheep to express God’s relentless pursuit of the wayward. Spoken during a heated exchange with the Pharisees, Jesus uses this imagery to contrast His faithful, self-giving leadership with the neglect of corrupt religious authorities. His message was both a fulfillment of prophecy and a present invitation to trust His intimate, protective care.

Understanding Jesus as the good shepherd calls us to acknowledge our vulnerability and embrace His trustworthy guidance. Sheep are beloved but dependent—they need a shepherd’s voice, presence, and protection. Jesus promises that kind of attentive, enduring care. His leadership is personal, His pursuit unrelenting, His presence constant, and His sacrifice unmatched. To go deeper with Him means surrendering our illusion of control, quieting the noise of self-reliance, and learning to recognize and follow His voice. Jesus doesn’t just want to be admired from afar—He wants to be known, trusted, and followed. And in a world full of hired hands and false guides, only the Good Shepherd is worthy of our whole-hearted devotion.

When Jesus declared, “I am the bread of life,” He wasn’t simply using a poetic image. He was pointing to the most essential need of every human heart—spiritual sustenance found in Him alone. For people who lived on bread as their main source of nutrition, this metaphor would have felt immediate and tangible. It connected their daily hunger to their deeper longing for eternal life.

Jesus contrasted the temporary provision of physical bread with the eternal satisfaction found in Him. Just as the Israelites received manna from heaven in the wilderness, now a new kind of bread—true, lasting, heavenly bread—was present in the person of Christ. He is not just a gift from God, but God Himself, offering His very body and blood to nourish and redeem us.

To abide in Jesus is to trust Him for more than help—it is to rely on Him for life itself. Our hearts are restless until they feast on His presence, truth, and love. In a world of quick fixes and fleeting pleasures, Jesus remains our daily bread, our eternal hope, and the only One who satisfies completely.

In John 15, Jesus offers one of His most intimate and powerful teachings: “I am the true vine, and my Father is the vinedresser… you are the branches.” Spoken on the eve of His crucifixion, these words were more than a metaphor—they were a lifeline for His disciples and for us. Abiding in Jesus is not a passive act or religious formality; it is the very heartbeat of discipleship. It means to remain, to dwell, to stay connected—not just in moments of worship or crisis, but in the everyday choices and rhythms of life.

This image would have resonated deeply with the disciples. In the Hebrew Scriptures, Israel was often described as a vine—planted, tended, but often fruitless. By calling Himself the “true vine,” Jesus was declaring that He alone fulfills what Israel could not: a faithful, fruitful life fully rooted in the Father’s will. To abide in Him is to let His life flow into every part of our being. And in that process, the Father lovingly prunes us—not to punish, but to prepare us for greater fruit. Painful seasons can become the soil of growth when we trust the Gardener’s hand.

Ultimately, this passage reminds us that apart from Jesus, we can do nothing—not some things, not a few things, but nothing that truly matters. The spiritual fruit we long to see—love, joy, peace, patience, purpose—grows only from intimacy with Christ. The call to abide is both a challenge and a comfort: a challenge to stay rooted even when pruning hurts, and a comfort that we are never alone, never disconnected, never without source or strength. Jesus does not just want to visit our lives; He wants to inhabit them. And in Him, we bear much fruit.