Today Daily Devotional

Continue to remember those in prison as if you were together with them in prison, and those who are mistreated as if you yourselves were suffering.

— Hebrews 13:3

Debbie Zeigler brings greeting cards to church for members to sign for incarcerated family members of Roseland Christian Ministries. Most are African American men—some young, some old.

If you haven’t explored the connections between slavery and mass incarceration in the United States, you may want to research this challenging topic. I’ve written about this before, and I continue to believe that God desires that we do better in our society. People are not meant to waste away in prison cells.

While personal responsibility is essential, we all share moral responsibility for the societies we help to create. The Jewish theologian Abraham Joshua Heschel noted that in matters of social injustice, “Few are guilty, but all are responsible.” As followers of Christ, we are called to build better communities through our schools, churches, and businesses. We are part of the human family, God’s creation, and we must reflect God’s love and justice.

By signing those cards at church, we recognize that no one is beyond the reach of grace—and we are called to stand with people whom society mistreats and forgets. How can we stand with these brothers and sisters today?

Lord, guide us to build communities that reflect your compassion and justice, and to stand with people who are mistreated and forgotten. In Jesus, Amen.

If you spend yourselves in behalf of the hungry and satisfy the needs of the oppressed, then your light will rise in the darkness, and your night will become like the noonday.

— Isaiah 58:10

The roles of mom, dad, brother, and sister can be broader than traditional definitions suggest. My mom has embodied an expansive view of motherhood throughout her life. She not only raised my siblings and me alongside our father, but she also served as a Christian school principal for 35 years and as an elder in her church. Her influence reached far beyond our home—spending summers in Ukraine, Uganda, and Russia, as well as three years in Bangkok to help establish Christian schools.

When I was a single father with sons ages 7, 4, and 1, my mom stepped in to help me, sharing as a grandmother the same energy and devotion she had shown as a mother. Her love, especially in times of need, reflected God’s calling to spend herself on behalf of others. She’s always been a square peg in a world that tries to fit people into round holes, and that uniqueness is her strength. The churches, orphanages, and schools she has served have benefited deeply from her gifts—as have we, her family.

God promises his servants: “You will be like a well-watered garden, like a spring whose waters never fail.” Is there someone in your life whose faith and service reflect God’s light and bless others in remarkable ways?

Lord, thank you for all whose love and service reflect your light. Bless those who give generously of themselves. May their lives be like well-watered gardens, ever refreshing others. Amen.

“When you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed. Although they cannot repay you, you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous.”

— Luke 14:13-14

Ms. Watts bakes hot water cornbread. Ms. Sabrina brings sweet tea. Mrs. Johnson cooks a pot of greens. Elder Bennett prepares spaghetti. David Walker’s mom bakes pies. One of the beautiful things about the Roseland community is how each person has their signature dish, and you’d better not try to compete! When you bring all that food together around the table, it becomes a feast.

What I love even more is that everyone eats. Whether you attended church that morning or were just passing by, everyone is welcome to the meal. There’s even a city bus driver who has stopped his bus at the corner and run in to grab a plate. (His passengers didn’t seem to mind.) It’s a reminder of the abundance and inclusivity found in community meals.

Jesus often gathered around meals with people. And in Luke 14 he talks about inviting people with disabilities, who are usually overlooked, ignored, or even outcast. A shared meal isn’t just about food—it’s about hospitality, inclusion, and breaking down barriers. When we gather to eat, we follow Jesus’ example of welcoming all to the table.

Whom can you welcome to your table this week? What will you prepare? Will you let them give to you as well?

Lord, thank you for the beauty of shared meals where everyone is welcome. May we embrace hospitality and receive others freely. Amen.

I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.

— Psalm 139:14

I officiated at the funeral of a man who had grown up at Roseland Christian Ministries. He was raised in the church and had attended Christian schools. But in his early twenties, something seemed to break in his mind. Always kind and smiling, he began to tell delusional stories. He was convinced of an alternate reality that featured celebrities, lawsuits, and fortunes coming his way. He had an undiagnosed mental illness, and he self-medicated to try to cope.

His father, a veteran, also self-medicated and experienced mental breaks. Both men had endured severe trauma. They learned to “tough it out” until they broke from reality.

I don’t know of any family that doesn’t face mental health issues in some form. I know that many don’t talk about it. But silence makes us sicker.

Mental illness is not a sign of weakness or failure but a call to lean on God's healing presence. We are invited to walk together in openness, seeking help, and trusting that God meets us in our brokenness, offering hope and restoration for our minds and hearts. I am concerned that many followers of Jesus believe that our struggles can be met only by prayer and through spiritualizing our problems. But in my experience, a strong faith community and a trusted therapist are necessary on the journey. My prayer is that you have both available to you.

Lord, we need strong faith communities and good therapists to help heal our mental and emotional wounds. May we seek both, trusting you to guide us toward healing. Amen.

Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress. . . .

— James 1:27

Getting into drug rehab is not so simple as one might think. Charlene, Mary, and Demetris, women who had spent their adult lives on the streets, wanted to get clean. We might imagine they’d be dropped off at a facility, given a room, and soon headed on the way toward healing. But the reality is more complicated. Just getting into a facility can take weeks.

The first hurdle for these women was to fill out forms—simple, right? Not when hands shake uncontrollably from withdrawal or concentration fails due to decades of drug use. Not when you have a twisted leg and need a cane. At one facility, Mary wasn’t allowed entry because of her cane. Twelve hours in hospital waiting rooms, struggling with forms, having nothing to eat, and obtaining identification—these obstacles were just the beginning. Yet our shelter director, Kadie Verstrate, stayed with each woman, offering encouragement and support. Kadie’s presence reflected God's steadfast love.

We need volunteers who can be “on call” to sit with people as they fill out forms, gain proper identification, and go to rehab facilities. God calls us to look after people who are often disregarded, disadvantaged, and in distress. Kadie’s work truly embodies this call, and I’m grateful for the Spirit’s work through her to support Demetris, Mary, Charlene, and many others.

Lord, teach us to serve as Jesus did, bearing burdens as family, trusting your love to guide us always. Amen.

There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love.

— 1 John 4:18

Elen, a single mother of three, lives in our shelter for women and children. Tiny but with a tough veneer, she survives through her own means. Her children, with their big brown curls and bright eyes, bring warmth to our community. Her youngest child finds comfort in the arms of a young woman without children in the church pews, and her son sits with our family during church services.

Elen often stands apart, her demeanor distant. One day, during a prayer circle before lunch, something changed. As we shared our goals for the New Year, Elen’s voice broke in, her lip trembling, “People think I’m really angry, but I’m really just scared.” Her fears have to do with finding permanent, safe housing; her children’s father; worry that her children could be taken away; and the chaos she faces daily.

In this moment of vulnerability, Elen took a step toward trust and connection. As 1 John 4:18 reminds us, “Perfect love drives out fear.” By being in a safe environment and allowing herself to be vulnerable, Elen began to build deeper bonds and trust with the people around her. In shared suffering and openness, we form a family of support and compassion, reflecting the unconditional love of Christ. May we all embrace our vulnerabilities to foster true, loving connections within our community.

Lord, drive out our fears with your perfect love, building a family of support and care that reflects your grace. Amen.

Jesus . . . was deeply moved in spirit and troubled. “Where have you laid him?” he asked. “Come and see, Lord,” they replied. Jesus wept.

— John 11:33-35

When my sons’ mother died unexpectedly, my wife, sons, and stepdaughter and I came together in deep, shared grief. The intensity of our sorrow felt profoundly isolating. But I’ve come to understand our pain in a new light.

Though deeply personal, grief connects us to a broader compassionate community. People have chosen to enter into our pain. It’s reminiscent of Jesus’ care for Mary and Martha when Lazarus died. Though fully aware of the outcome, Jesus entered their mourning, weeping along with them. His empathy was about understanding their loss and sharing in their suffering and grief.

Similarly, we are part of a community that understands loss all too well. Parents mourn children lost to disease and violence, siblings grieve the loss of siblings to addiction or accidents, and young children mourn lost parents. It’s a fellowship we haven’t chosen, but in it we find support, solace, and strength.

My sons and I meet with a grief counselor every other week, sharing our pain and memories about their mother. Our counselor, who has also experienced tragic loss, stands with us in our grief. Together we find strength in this shared experience, navigating sorrow with a sense of communal support and understanding.

Father, thank you for the bonds formed through shared suffering and trauma. May we reflect the comfort and grace of Jesus, who shares in our suffering and grief and brings healing. Amen.

I looked, and there before me was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people and language, standing before the throne and before the Lamb.

— Revelation 7:9

In 1983, Ulysses left Haiti and arrived in Chicago with some fellow refugees. Stepping off the plane into the cold, he was greeted warmly by Rev. Tony Van Zanten and Rev. Emmett Harrison, pastors who worked with Roseland Christian Ministries. One of them gave him their jacket, a gesture he remembers vividly. Ulysses settled into the Roseland community, and, over time, some of his family members were able to join him.

Our lives are like a tapestry, woven from diverse backgrounds and stories. Just as Ulysses’ journey blends different cultures and experiences, the Bible reminds us that we are all part of a larger family. Revelation 7 speaks of a huge multitude from every nation and language, standing before the throne of God.

In North America we are a mix of immigrants, descendants of slaves, recent refugees, and people native to the land. Many of our ancestors faced oppression and hardship and had to find new homes in unfamiliar places. Stories of immigrants struggling to find support in a new homeland, or of families torn apart by slavery, residential schools, and other unjust systems, remind us of the need for new relationships. Together we contribute to the beautiful mosaic of God’s creation. Let’s celebrate our stories, united in grace through Christ.

Father, thank you for weaving us into a mosaic of your creation. Help us to find unity in your love and grace. Amen.

You, my brothers and sisters, were called to be free. But do not use your freedom to indulge the flesh; rather, serve one another humbly in love.

— Galatians 5:13

A volunteer at Roseland Christian Ministries saw a sign for the celebration of Juneteenth and said, “Why can’t we all just celebrate July 4? What is Juneteenth anyway?”

I took a deep breath and said something along these lines: “I’m still learning, but here’s what I know. After the Emancipation Proclamation was declared in 1863, it wasn’t enforced in Confederate states until 1865. On June 19, 1865, a U.S. general arrived in Galveston, Texas, to inform enslaved people that they were legally free—two years after the proclamation. That’s what Juneteenth celebrates.”

I pushed a little further. “Independence Day might mean something different if your freedom didn’t come on July 4, 1776. And if any of us is enslaved, are we free?”

In the United States, Juneteenth is not just a day for Black Americans to celebrate—it’s a reminder for everyone that true freedom is something we should strive for together. Galatians 5:13 reminds us, “You . . . were called to be free. But do not use your freedom to indulge the flesh; rather, serve one another humbly in love.” I pray for the humility to keep learning and listening. Juneteenth is a time to reflect on the journey toward justice and equality and, as followers of Jesus Christ, to remember that we are called to use our freedom to serve one another.

Lord, grant us the gift of true freedom in Christ. May we serve others with open hearts, walking humbly in your love and grace. Amen.

Ruth replied, “Don’t urge me to leave you or to turn back from you. Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God my God.”

— Ruth 1:16

A few years ago Erika’s mother passed away from cancer. Erika’s mother was a sister to Stephanie, so Stephanie is Erika’s aunt. Despite their loss, Erika and Stephanie share a bond that is exceptionally close for an aunt and niece. They cook together, share meals, and travel from Michigan to Chicago nearly every Sunday for worship.

On the Sunday when Erika and Stephanie became members at our church, we read the story of Ruth and Naomi, focusing on the line “Where you go I will go. . . . Your people will be my people and your God my God.” Ruth and Naomi experienced deep grief together; Ruth’s husband, who had died, was Naomi’s son. Yet they chose to embrace one another and face the grief and unknown together as they sought community in Bethlehem, Naomi’s old hometown.

Grief and hardship can leave you looking around and realizing, “This is it; these are my people. And I can remain bitter, or I can take a step toward healing with the ones God has given me.” Some losses cannot be replaced, and yet opportunities and blessings can emerge as new gifts, offering comfort, hope, and companionship. I’m grateful to God that Naomi and Ruth had each other, and that Erika and Stephanie do too.

Whom has God brought into your life, offering gifts and companionship to help you?

Lord, guide and comfort us in our grief, and help us to support one another with grace and love. In Jesus, Amen.