John 1:1–18
There are weeks when life feels less like living and more like surviving.
We move from one obligation to the next. We keep the plates spinning. We do what needs to be done. And somewhere along the way, the deeper pulse of life – the joy, the wonder, the sense of being truly alive – slips quietly into the background.
John’s Gospel opens with a reminder that God’s vision for us is bigger than survival.
“In him was life, and the life was the light of all people.”
Not just existence. Not just endurance. Life. The kind of life that brings light. The kind of life that renews rather than drains. The kind of life that reminds us we are more than our schedules, more than our stress, more than what we’re trying to hold together.
The Word becomes flesh and moves into the world, not to rescue us from humanity, but to restore it. God steps into the ordinary rhythms of human life: work and rest, joy and sorrow, hope and heartbreak. Renewal doesn’t come by escaping the world; it comes through God’s presence within it.
So often, survival mode feels necessary. Sometimes it is necessary. There are seasons when simply getting through the day is an act of courage. But John reminds us that survival is not the final word.
God offers life that is deeper than coping, life that breathes even when we’re tired, life that shines in places we thought were dim beyond repair.
This life doesn’t always arrive with fireworks or sudden clarity. More often, it comes quietly, through moments of grace we almost miss. A breath that feels steadier than before. A kindness that lands at just the right time. A flicker of hope that refuses to go out.
Life renewed begins not when everything is fixed, but when we begin to notice the light again. And the promise John gives us is this: the darkness does not get that final victory. It never has.
Even when life feels thin. Even when joy feels distant. Even when you’re just trying to make it to the end of the week. The light is still shining. And it shines for you.
Take some time with the opening verses of John’s Gospel, and as you do that, reflect on the following questions:
- Where in your life do you feel like you’re in “survival mode” right now?
- What does life – not just endurance – look like to you in this season?
- Where have you noticed small signs of light or renewal, even if they felt fleeting?
- What might help you shift, even slightly, from surviving to receiving life this week?
Let’s pray:
Living Word, when we are worn thin and simply getting through the day, remind us that You offer more than survival. Breathe Your life into our tired spirits, and let Your light meet us in ordinary moments. Help us notice where You are already renewing us, in small graces, quiet hope, and unexpected joy. As we move through the rest of this week, draw us out of endurance and into life, held by Your presence and sustained by Your love. AMEN
