Today’s episode explores the remarkable contentment of Jesus, even in the midst of storms, injustice, and suffering. From sleeping through a violent sea storm to calmly responding to Pilate’s threats and surrendering in Gethsemane, Jesus models a peace not rooted in circumstances but in deep trust in the Father. His ability to remain steady in chaos was not due to indifference but to His clear identity, intimate communion with God, and unwavering belief in the Father’s sovereignty and goodness.

Today’s devotional also reflects on Jesus as the fulfillment of Isaiah’s prophecy: the Prince of Peace. His calm in adversity is not passive but active—a peace that radiates through service, forgiveness, prayer, and presence. Whether facing political power or personal agony, Jesus never grasped for control but embodied divine composure and trust. His peace brought wholeness, not just relief, and stands as an invitation for us to embody the same calm, not by our strength, but through relationship with God.

Finally, the devotional calls us to “get deep” with Jesus by adopting His practices and mindset. We are encouraged to anchor our identity in the Father, seek His presence in solitude, surrender our desire for control, and face life’s trials with faith. Jesus' contentment shows us that true peace is not found in external stability but in internal surrender. As His followers, we are called not just to admire His calm—but to live it, trusting the same Father and walking in the same peace.

In today’s episode of 10:10 Thrive, we continue our deep exploration of Jesus by focusing on His emotions—specifically, His tears. The shortest verse in Scripture, “Jesus wept,” serves as the anchor for a powerful reflection on Christ’s compassion and humanity. We see Jesus moved by both personal grief at the tomb of Lazarus and communal sorrow as He weeps over Jerusalem. His tears are not signs of weakness, but profound expressions of divine love and holy lament in a world marred by brokenness.

The episode walks through John 11, where Jesus delays His arrival in Bethany after Lazarus’ death, only to be met by the mourning of Mary and Martha. Though He knows He will raise Lazarus, Jesus still weeps—grieving the pain and loss His friends feel. These tears are a sacred reminder that Jesus enters into our suffering. Later, in Luke 19, we see Him weeping over Jerusalem—not for Himself, but for a city blind to peace and destined for destruction. His grief is prophetic and redemptive, the sorrow of a Savior who loves deeply and mourns what could have been.

Listeners are invited to reflect on what Jesus’ tears mean for their own spiritual life. We can grieve with Jesus, knowing He understands and shares our sorrow. We can hope through tears, trusting that resurrection will follow suffering. And we are called to see our world with the eyes of Christ, allowing our hearts to break over what breaks His. The devotional closes by reminding us that Jesus’ tears were not the end—joy came in the morning, and through His sorrow, we find both salvation and strength.

In Matthew 21:12–13, we see a powerful and passionate side of Jesus that may surprise some: His righteous anger. Upon entering the temple, Jesus is confronted with the exploitation and corruption that had overtaken the sacred space. Rather than finding a house of prayer, He encounters a marketplace where the poor are cheated and the marginalized excluded. His response is swift and deliberate—He overturns tables, drives out the merchants, and boldly declares that the temple, intended as a house of prayer, had become a den of robbers. This is not a loss of temper but a holy protest, fueled by zeal for God’s honor and compassion for the people being oppressed.

This moment reveals that Jesus is not passive in the face of injustice. His anger is not rooted in ego or frustration but in deep love for God's purposes and God’s people. He confronts the distortion of worship and the abuse of power, drawing from prophetic texts to show that His actions are aligned with God's heart throughout Scripture. Like Isaiah and Jeremiah before Him, Jesus denounces religious hypocrisy and advocates for authentic, inclusive worship. His cleansing of the temple is a symbol of His mission to restore what is broken and to make room for real communion with God.

Jesus’ righteous anger challenges us to examine our own hearts and communities. Are there places where our worship has been corrupted by selfishness, convenience, or exclusion? Are we willing to allow Jesus to overturn the tables in our lives—to drive out what doesn’t belong and restore what is sacred? To follow Him deeply is to embrace both His mercy and His justice: to stand for the vulnerable, to protect what is holy, and to ensure that our devotion is not just outward, but real, whole, and surrendered. Jesus’ actions in the temple call us not only to admiration, but to transformation.

In Luke 10:21, we witness a rare and radiant moment of Jesus expressing deep joy in the Holy Spirit. This joy is sparked not by power or public acclaim, but by the Father’s gracious decision to reveal Kingdom truths to “little children”—those humble and dependent in spirit. This moment follows the return of the seventy-two disciples, who were amazed at the spiritual authority they had exercised in Jesus' name. Yet Jesus redirects their focus from accomplishments to identity: not what they’ve done, but the fact that their names are written in heaven. He then erupts in praise to the Father, rejoicing in the divine pattern of revelation—hidden from the proud but made known to the humble.

This profound joy reveals the heart of God and the inner life of the Trinity. Jesus rejoices not just as a man, but as the Son in perfect communion with the Father through the Spirit. His celebration affirms that God delights in revealing Himself, not through the wise or powerful, but through those who come like children: open, trusting, and unpretentious. Jesus’ prayer echoes themes from the Old Testament where God resists the proud but gives grace to the lowly. It also demonstrates that true spiritual insight is not achieved through intellect or status but is received through grace.

As followers of Jesus, this passage calls us to deeper humility and wonder. It challenges us to reevaluate where we seek revelation and how we define spiritual success. In Jesus’ joyful outburst, we find encouragement to rest in the truth that God longs to be known and delights to be found by the lowly in heart. Going deeper with Jesus means cultivating childlike faith, making space to hear God’s voice, and finding joy not in achievement, but in the gracious gift of divine revelation.

In Mark 6:34, we witness a profound glimpse into the heart of Jesus as He responds to a massive, needy crowd not with irritation or avoidance, but with compassion. Despite being weary and seeking rest with His disciples after a demanding season of ministry, Jesus sees the people as “sheep without a shepherd.” This Old Testament imagery underscores His identity as the true and promised Shepherd who comes not just to teach but to guide, protect, and lay down His life for His flock. His compassion isn’t passive—it’s deeply felt and actively expressed.

The immediate expression of Jesus’ compassion in this passage is His teaching. Rather than first performing miracles or healings, Jesus speaks truth to nourish the people’s souls. This reminds us that spiritual direction is just as vital as physical provision. Throughout the Gospels, Jesus’ compassion consistently moves Him to action: healing the sick, raising the dead, feeding the hungry, and restoring the broken. He doesn’t merely feel for people; He moves toward them. His heart beats for the hurting, the wandering, and the overlooked.

This compassionate heart of Jesus challenges us to go deeper. To receive His Word, we must first recognize our need for Him as our Shepherd. And to follow His lead, we must allow His compassion to shape our responses to others. As we reflect on Jesus feeding both the souls and bodies of the crowd, we’re reminded that true discipleship is rooted in both Word and deed. Our world is full of people who, like that crowd, are spiritually hungry and directionless. Jesus calls us not just to admire His compassion, but to embody it—becoming shepherd-like people in a world in desperate need of grace and guidance.

In John 8:58, Jesus makes a staggering declaration: “Before Abraham was, I am.” To His audience, this was not a grammatical anomaly or a poetic flourish—it was a direct and undeniable claim to divinity. Echoing God’s self-identification in Exodus 3:14 (“I AM WHO I AM”), Jesus identifies Himself with the eternal, self-existent God of Israel. The response of the crowd—picking up stones to kill Him—reveals just how bold and provocative His words were. Jesus was not just claiming to be older than Abraham; He was claiming to be Yahweh in the flesh. This moment powerfully anchors His identity as eternal, unchanging, and divine.

Jesus’ statement also has deeply pastoral implications. In saying “I AM,” Jesus reveals Himself as the God who is present in every moment, not bound by time, circumstance, or change. His identity is not tied to the past or the future but is eternally present and actively involved in our lives. The seven “I Am” statements in the Gospel of John (Bread of Life, Light of the World, Door, Good Shepherd, Resurrection and Life, Way-Truth-Life, and True Vine) all flow from this core revelation. Each one meets us in a specific area of need, reminding us that the eternal God steps into our hunger, darkness, vulnerability, and confusion with power and compassion.

Ultimately, Jesus’ use of “I AM” demands more than admiration—it demands worship. As C.S. Lewis observed, we must either reject Him as a liar or lunatic, or submit to Him as Lord. Jesus does not leave room for neutral responses. To follow the One who says “I AM” is to reorient our lives around His constancy, His sufficiency, and His sovereign love. It means trusting that He is enough for our past, present, and future—and responding with lives marked by faith, surrender, and awe.

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.