The Life Is in the Blood

by David Rush | Oct 12, 2025 | Daily Light

The Life Is in the Blood

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The Life Is in the Blood

John 5:39 — “You search the Scriptures because you think that in them you have eternal life. And it is they that bear witness about Me.”

Martha’s hands were dusted with flour and damp with sweat. The bread was rising too fast, the stew was boiling over, and from the next room came Mary’s laughter — calm, unhurried, sitting at Jesus’ feet. When Martha’s frustration finally boiled over, Jesus didn’t shame her. He simply said, “Martha, you’re worried about many things — but only one thing is truly needed.”

It wasn’t a correction about chores; it was a call to closeness. The “better part” Mary had chosen wasn’t a task at all — it was His presence. In that quiet space at His feet, something in Mary came alive — the same thing that so often goes missing in us.

Many of us know that feeling. We hear the reminders to read more, pray more, study more — and guilt quietly starts to hum beneath the surface. You’re not spiritual enough. You don’t know the Bible well enough. But Jesus never placed that burden on us. He didn’t die so we could become scholars. He gave His life so we could become sons and daughters — filled with His Spirit, alive in His presence.

The Bible is sacred and full of truth — a gift meant to draw us closer, not weigh us down.

But it was never meant to replace the One it reveals. The religious leaders searched the Scriptures daily and still missed the Savior who stood before them. Jesus wasn’t criticizing their study — He was inviting them to relationship. “You think the Scriptures give you life,” He said, “but they point to Me.”

From the very beginning, God painted this truth into the story. In Leviticus 17:11, He said, “The life of the flesh is in the blood.” Every sacrifice, every altar, every drop of blood in those ancient rituals was a shadow pointing forward — to the moment when the Lamb of God would pour out His own blood for the life of the world. That blood on the altar was never about God demanding payment — it was His way of showing how precious life is, and how far He would go to give it back to us through His Son.

When Jesus shed His blood, the veil tore. The presence of God stepped out of the temple and into the hearts of those who believe. The words of Scripture were no longer kept on scrolls or stone — they began to be written on living hearts.

So when you open your Bible and feel nothing… when the words blur and the guilt creeps in… pause. Take a breath.
You’re not failing God. You’re being invited to listen differently.
You’re not less loved when you feel nothing. Even silence can be sacred when your heart is turned toward Him.

Let His Spirit breathe on what you read. Let the Author sit beside you. Sometimes He speaks loudly through Scripture; sometimes He whispers softly through stillness. Either way, the life isn’t in the ink — it’s in the blood that purchased your freedom, and the Spirit who brings that life to you right now.

Have you been trying to study your way closer to God when He’s simply asking you to sit with Him?
What if before reading today, you whispered, “Jesus, I’m not here for information — I’m here for You”?

📖 He didn’t give you a book to burden you with knowledge — He gave you His Spirit to breathe life into you.

Prayer:

Lord, thank You for the Scriptures that point me to You, and for the Bible that holds the story of Your love.
But help me remember — You are not far away in a book; You are near, within me, through Your Spirit.
Teach me to rest at Your feet, to listen more than I strive, and to let Your blood cleanse and fill me with real life.
When I read, let it be alive. When I don’t, let me still walk with You.
You are the Word made flesh — and You are enough.
Amen.

Peace in the Storm

by David Rush | Oct 5, 2025 | Daily Light

Peace in the Storm

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Peace in the Storm

“Then He arose and rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, ‘Peace, be still!’ And the wind ceased and there was a great calm.”
— Mark 4:39

The day had been long. Crowds pressed close, miracles unfolded, and as evening fell, Jesus said to His disciples, “Let us cross over to the other side.” They climbed into a small fishing boat and pushed away from shore. The water shimmered under fading light as they set their course across the Sea of Galilee.

But night fell fast, and so did the storm 🌊. The wind howled across the water, churning waves high above the bow. The boat creaked and groaned, taking on water faster than they could bail. Seasoned fishermen shouted orders over the roar, their hands trembling from fear more than from cold. And there—down in the bottom of the boat—Jesus slept on a cushion.

They couldn’t believe it. With turmoil all around, He was perfectly still. Finally, someone shouted, “Teacher, don’t You care that we’re perishing?”

Jesus stood. The storm raged on, wind lashing His robe, waves breaking at His feet. But the sea fell silent the moment He spoke.
“Peace. Be still.”

The wind obeyed. The water stilled. And in the sudden calm, their fear turned to awe. “Who is this,” they whispered, “that even the wind and the sea obey Him?” Then Jesus looked at them and said softly, “Why are you so fearful? How is it that you have no faith?”

It was the same Voice that once echoed over the restless deep of creation. Long before this night, before boats and storms and frightened hearts, the Spirit of God hovered over the wild, unformed waters. The universe held its breath. There was no sound, no light, only a vast and trembling depth waiting for a word.

Then, through that ancient darkness, came the Voice. Not a human effort. Not a desperate plan. A single, sovereign command: “Let there be…” ✨ And light exploded where there had been none. Waters parted, stars awakened, and order rose from the swirling depths. Creation itself shuddered with recognition — peace had entered the world.

That same Voice now stood on the deck of a storm-tossed boat. The same Word that brought order from nothingness now was flesh and bone, resting in their storm. When the sea raged, the Creator of Heaven and Earth slept — not out of indifference, but out of authority. His rest was not apathy; it was sovereignty.

The disciples, gripped by fear, had cried out, “Teacher, don’t You care that we’re perishing?” And the Voice that once spoke galaxies into place answered again: “Peace, be still.”

In Genesis, that Voice pushed back the waters and formed the world. In Jonah’s story, that Voice spoke to the storm and the sea obeyed. And here, in Mark 4, that same eternal Voice calmed creation once more — not with effort, but with identity.

Peace didn’t come because the storm grew weaker. It came because the presence of the Creator was near. The sea has always known its Maker. And so have you.

When the storms rise in your life — the kind that toss your faith, your family, your peace — remember this: it is not necessary for the turmoil to end. It is not necessary for the storm to cease. What is necessary is for you to cry out for the voice of God — the same voice that spoke light into darkness, that shaped the mountains and quieted the sea.

His is the voice that sees you, the voice that knows you by name, the voice that breathed life into your lungs. ❤️ The voice that commands the wind still calls to your heart.

Call to Him. He will answer.

Jesus said, “Man does not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceeds from the mouth of God.” His voice still hovers over the waters. His Word still brings peace where none should be. The same Spirit that calmed creation now whispers within you.

Don’t pray merely for calmer seas. Pray to hear His voice — and let His Word speak peace into your storm.

What storm are you facing right now that needs less control and more of His voice?

Prayer:
Lord, when the waves rise and fear grips my heart, remind me that You are not distant — You are near. Speak into my storm, and let Your Word bring peace where my strength cannot. Teach me to seek Your voice above all other noise. I don’t need the storm to end, only to know that You are in the boat with me. Amen.