“Stand fast therefore in the liberty wherewith Christ hath made us free, and be not entangled again with the yoke of bondage.” — Galatians 5:1 (KJV)

Midweek is a fitting moment to remember that the Christian life is not about striving to earn God’s favor, but about​ resting in the finished work of Christ. The redeemed soul is not under the law as a covenant of works but walks in the freedom of grace — not license, but liberty rooted in love for God and His commandments.
As the Puritans well understood, true liberty is not freedom from God but freedom in God. John Bunyan’s pilgrim pressed on through the Valley of Humiliation not because he had to earn his way, but because he had already been freed from his burden at the cross. Walk in that freedom today, resisting both the chains of legalism and the ditch of antinomianism.
 Pastor Michael.

“Search the scriptures; for in them ye think ye have eternal life: and they are they which testify of me.”— John 5:39 (KJV)​

Our Lord Jesus did not say, search your feelings, nor search the traditions of men — He said, search the scriptures. This is the great charter of the Christian’s daily duty. The Word of God is not a museum piece to be admired from a distance but a living testimony to be searched with diligent, believing hands.
Notice what Christ says the scriptures do — they testify of Him. Every page, every promise, every type and shadow, every law and prophecy points its trembling finger toward the Lord Jesus Christ. To read your Bible and not find Christ is to walk through a garden and miss the Rose of Sharon altogether.
The Puritans called this Scripture meditation — not a casual skim, but a reverent, hungry mining of the Word. John Bunyan said he would rather be poor and know his Bible than be rich and be a stranger to it. Dear friend, open your Bible today not merely as a religious exercise, but as one who presses through the crowd just to touch the hem of His garment — for the scriptures will always bring you to Jesus.
Search. Find. Worship.

“Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path.” — Psalm 119:105 (KJV)

Monday has a reputation. It arrives uninvited, heavy with the memory of yesterday’s rest and the weight of the week’s demands. The alarm sounds, the list grows, and before our feet touch the cold floor, the mind is already running ahead — to the work unfinished, the problems unsolved, the burdens unresolved. Monday, for many, feels less like a gift and more like a sentence.
But beloved, Monday belongs to the Lord.
The Face You Choose First
Charles Spurgeon once wrote, “It is a good rule never to look into the face of a man in the morning till you have looked into the face of God.” What a word for the beginning of a new week. We are creatures of habit, and nothing shapes the habit of a day more powerfully than where we look first. Before the telephone, before the mirror, before the news of the world rushes in like a flood — there is a Face to seek, a throne to approach, a Father to greet.
The Psalmist understood this well. “My voice shalt thou hear in the morning, O LORD; in the morning will I direct my prayer unto thee, and will look up” (Psalm 5:3). Notice that word — look up. The posture of Monday morning is not a downcast gaze at the week’s troubles, but an upward look toward the God who has already ordained every hour of it.
Do not let Monday steal the morning. Give the morning to God, and Monday will find its proper place — as a servant, not a master.
Your Emptiness Is Not an Accident
Maybe you'll come to this Monday feeling dry. The Lord’s Day was full, and now the well seems low. You poured out — in worship, in fellowship, in service — and now the week calls for more, and you wonder where it will come from.
Spurgeon speaks tenderly to this very soul: “Your emptiness is but the preparation for your being filled, and your casting down is but the making ready for your lifting up.” Your felt weakness this Monday morning is not a sign of spiritual failure. It is a hollow vessel, ready for fresh filling. The Lord does not send His people into a new week and then withhold His grace. He who called you to this day has already stored up sufficient mercy for every hour of it.
The Apostle Paul knew this rhythm. “I can do all things through Christ, which strengthened me” (Philippians 4:13). Not through yesterday’s strength, not through last week’s reserves — but through Christ, who is the same on Monday as He is on the Lord’s Day. His grace is not a Sunday commodity. It is daily bread.
Ordinary Days, Sacred Ground
One of the great lies the world tells us is that only certain days are sacred — only the grand moments, the high occasions, the Sunday services. But the Puritan fathers understood something gloriously different. They believed the entirety of life, when lived unto God, is holy. As Spurgeon himself put it, “The shop, the barn, the kitchen, and the workbench become temples when men and women do all to the glory of God.”
Your Monday, dear friend, is holy ground. The kitchen where you make breakfast for your children — holy ground. The drive to work, the conversation with a neighbor, the honest labor of your hands — holy ground. God is not absent from your ordinary week. He inhabits it. He fills it. He governs it with sovereign care.
The Apostle Paul wrote to the Colossians, “And whatsoever ye do, do it heartily, as to the Lord, and not unto men” (Colossians 3:23). This was written not for ministers alone, but for servants, for tradesmen, for mothers and fathers and children — for all who bear the name of Christ in the common flow of life. Every Monday, task done heartily unto the Lord is an act of worship as real as any sung in the assembly.
He Made This Day
Return once more to the text: “This is the day which the LORD hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it” (Psalm 118:24).
The Psalmist does not say, “This is a pleasant day,” or “This is an easy day.” He says it is a day the Lord has made. Crafted. Appointed. Purposed. This Monday was not an accident. It did not escape God’s notice or slip past His sovereign hand. He made it — and He made it for you, for His glory, for your growth, for the good of those around you.
Therefore, rejoice. Not because Monday is easy, but because the God who made it is good. Not because the week ahead is light, but because the One who walks through it with you is strong. The joy here is not a feeling worked up by the flesh — it is a settled confidence of the soul that says, “My God is in this day, and therefore I will not fear it.”
Go Into the Week Looking Up
Beloved, lift your eyes. The week that lies before you is not a wilderness to be survived — it is a stewardship to be lived. Every conversation is an opportunity for grace. Every trial is an instrument of sanctification. Every mercy that meets you on the road — and there will be many — is a tender reminder that your Father’s eye is upon you.
Look into the right Face first. 
Go to Him before you go to the world. Let the Throne Room be your first appointment this Monday morning, and all other appointments will fall into their proper order.
“The LORD’S mercies… are new every morning: great is thy faithfulness” (Lamentations 3:22–23).
New this morning. New this Monday. New for you.
Go, and rejoice in it.
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— Your Pastor

There are many occasions when we may renew our covenant with God beneficially.

After recovery from sickness, when, like Hezekiah, we have had more years added to our lives, we may properly do it. After any deliverance from trouble, when our joys spring forth again, we should perhaps visit the foot of the Cross and renew our consecration. Especially, let us do this after any sin that has grieved the Holy Spirit, or brought dishonor upon the name of Jesus and the cause of God. Further, we should not only confirm our dedication to God during our troubles, but also during our prosperity. If we ever have occasions that could be called "crowning mercies," then we should also crown God anew in our hearts. If we learned to profit from our prosperity, we wouldn't need so much adversity.
If we gathered from a kiss all the good it might confer upon us, we wouldn't so often smart under the rod. Have we recently received some blessing that we little expected? Has the Lord put our feet in a large room? Can we sing of mercies multiplied? Then this is the day to put our hand upon the horns of the altar, and say, "Bind me here, my God; bind me here with cords, even forever. Inasmuch as we need the fulfillment of new promises from God, let us offer renewed prayers that our old vows may not be dishonored. Let us, this morning, make with Him a sure covenant because of the sufferings of Jesus, which we have been considering with gratitude for the last month.

C.H. Spurgeon.

​We go to Christ for forgiveness, and then too often look to the law for power to fight our sins.

​ For this, Paul rebukes us, "You foolish Galatians! Who has bewitched you? Before your very eyes, Jesus Christ was clearly portrayed as crucified. I would like to learn just one thing from you: Did you receive the Spirit by observing the law, or by believing what you heard?
Are you so foolish? After beginning with the Spirit, are you now trying to attain your goal by human effort?" Take your sins to Christ's Cross, for the old self can only be crucified there; we are crucified with Him.  The only weapon to fight sin with is the spear that pierced Jesus' side. For instance, you have a bad temper. How do you get rid of it? You've probably never tried the right way of going to Jesus with it. How did you get salvation? You came to Jesus just as you were and trusted Him to save you. You must kill your temper in the same way. You must go to the Cross with it and say to Jesus,
"Lord, I trust You to deliver me from it." That's the only way to give it a death-blow. Are you covetous? You can struggle against this evil for as long as you please, but only the blood of Jesus will deliver you from it. Take it to Christ.
Your prayers, your repentances, and your tears, all of them together, are worth nothing apart from Him. Only through Him can you conquer your sins; there is no other way!   C.H. Spurgeon M-by-M

The marrow of Job's comfort lies in that little word My-My Redeemer, and in the fact that his Redeemer lives.

Oh, to get hold of a living Christ. We must get Him before we can enjoy Him. What good to me is gold in a mine? It's gold in my purse that will purchase the things I need. So a Redeemer who doesn't redeem me is of no use to me. Don't be content until by faith you can say, "Yes, I cast myself upon the living Christ, and He is mine." You may hold Him with a weak hand, and think it's presumption to say, "He lives as my Redeemer," but if you've faith as a grain of mustard seed, that little faith entitles you to say it. But there's also another word here that expresses Job's strong confidence, "I know."To say, "I hope so, I trust so," is comfortable, and there are thousands in the body of Christ who hardly ever get much further. But to reach the essence of consolation, you must say, "I know." Ifs, buts, and maybes are murderers of peace and comfort. Doubts are dreary things in times of sorrow. If I have any thought that Christ isn't mine, then there's apprehension and fear of the coming night. But if I know that Christ lives for me, then darkness is not dark and even the night is light about me. If in those ages before the coming and advent of Christ, Job could say, "I know," we should not be less certain. A living Redeemer, truly mine, is joy unspeakable.
C.H. Spurgeon (Moring By Morning) April 21st