Today’s Devotional
Someone is closing a book, carefully, the way you close something you are not sure you will open again. The last page has been read. The story of a man who healed on the wrong day, who knelt in dirt to wash feet, who died publicly and then, according to this account, walked out of his own grave. The reader sets the book down and thinks: what am I supposed to do with this?
John anticipates that moment. His final lines are a confession of intent. “These are written,” he says, “that you may believe.” The word “written” is doing something specific here. It means John chose what to include and what to leave out. He shaped his account the way a carpenter shapes wood: with purpose, knowing what the finished thing needed to hold. And the finished thing needed to hold you. That word “may” is not uncertainty. It is an open hand. John places evidence on the table and steps back, trusting you enough to let you decide.
For anyone who has grown tired of being told what to think about God, this verse is a different kind of voice. John does not argue. He does not threaten. He writes, and he tells you why he wrote, and then he lets the words sit there, patient as a letter left on a kitchen counter, waiting for whenever you are ready to pick it up.
Time to reflect
This verse was composed with a specific reader in mind. Ask yourself whether you recognize that reader:
- When was the last time you gave a religious claim an honest look rather than dismissing it or accepting it out of habit?
- What would it take for you to believe something that sounded too good to be true, and what has made you stop trusting those kinds of claims?
- John says his purpose was that you “may have life.” If you described the difference between existing and having life, what would you say is missing from one that the other has?
- Is there a part of your skepticism that is actually protecting something valuable in you, and can you name what it protects?
Prayer Of The Day
God, I come to you with questions I have not finished asking and doubts I have not fully examined. Some of them are honest, and some of them are walls I built so I would not have to risk being wrong. I do not know which is which today. But this verse says these words were written so that I might believe, and the word “might” leaves room for me to come slowly. I ask for the courage to read without defending myself, to look at the evidence without deciding the verdict before I see it. Meet me in the looking. Help me tell the difference between caution and fear. In Jesus’ name, we pray. Amen.
Strengthening Faith
John placed evidence on a table and trusted the reader to examine it. Here is how to bring that same honest examination into your next twenty-four hours:
- Read John 20:24-31 slowly, the full scene with Thomas. Pay attention to what Jesus does when someone asks for proof.
- Write down one belief you hold about God, positive or negative, that you have never actually tested. Just write it. You do not need to resolve it today.
- Over lunch or coffee, ask someone you trust: “What convinced you about faith, or what keeps you unconvinced?” Listen without correcting or defending.
- Walk somewhere without your phone for fifteen minutes. Let the silence be uncomfortable if it is.
- Find one sentence from the Gospels you have never read before. Mark it. Sit with whatever it stirs.
- Identify one thing you dismissed this week without giving it a fair hearing, religious or otherwise. Revisit it with fresh eyes.
Today Wisdom
John used the word “written,” and that word holds a fingerprint. Every sentence in his gospel was selected, weighed, placed where it could do its work. Belief was never supposed to arrive like a command. It was supposed to arrive like a letter from someone who sat down, chose each word with care, and trusted you enough to send it.
