Week 1: The Promise Begins
From the War Room
Read Matthew 1:1-25 on Bible.com
This morning, I sat with Matthew chapter 1—just me, my Bible, and the quiet thrum of early light. I do this often in my War Room where it’s peaceful. I’ve read the Bible front to back many times. But I decided to not just read, but to write it word for word, forcing myself to pay attention, reflect, and let the pages speak to me.
I expected to skim through a genealogy, maybe glance at a footnote or two. But I never made it past verse one without tears in my eyes.
This is the genealogy of Jesus the Messiah, the son of David, the son of Abraham…”
— Matthew 1:1 (NIV)
That’s not just a sentence—it’s thunder.
It’s history leaning in.
It’s God saying, “I remember every name. Every story. Every tear.”
A Lineage That Leans Into the Broken
Let’s be honest: we skip genealogies because they feel irrelevant. But in the war room, reading every name, I realized—this isn’t a list. It’s a love story. A ledger of grace. A record of every scandal God refused to waste.
- Tamar: a victim of injustice, used by God.
- Rahab: a prostitute, grafted into God’s family.
- Ruth: a Moabite widow, full of loyalty and courage.
- Bathsheba: unnamed, known by pain, folded into the line of the King.
And then there’s Mary—young, holy, terrified, brave.
And Joseph—silent, obedient, righteous, and unseen.
If you’ve ever felt unseen, unworthy, or too broken to be part of God’s story—read this chapter again. You’re not just included. You’re wanted.
The Silent Obedience of a Man Named Joseph
I’ve read past Joseph so many times. But not today.
He’s a man whose world fell apart in a single conversation. The woman he loved was pregnant. And not by him.
He could have demanded answers. Publicly shamed her. Walked away with pride intact.
But Joseph chose mercy over reputation.
And then God met him in a dream and asked for more.
“Take her home. Take the shame. Raise the Child. Trust Me.”
And Joseph did.
Without applause.
Without clarity.
Without a single spoken word recorded in Scripture.
I want that kind of faith.
God With Us—Still
“They will call him Immanuel—which means, ‘God with us.’”
— Matthew 1:23 (NIV)
Emmanuel.
In the quiet of your kitchen, in the hospital room, in the depths of your waiting—He is with you. Not distant. Not indifferent. Present.
This isn’t abstract theology. It’s incarnation.
This is the gospel that begins with bloodlines and ends with blood spilled—for you.
Reflection for the Week
- What part of your story do you think disqualifies you?
- What quiet acts of obedience is God calling you to?
- Where in your life do you need to remember: God is with me, right here?
Journal Prompt
“Emmanuel—God with me. What does that mean for me this week?”
Closing Prayer
Lord Jesus, You didn’t arrive with fanfare, but through family lines full of failures and courage. You came not to impress us, but to be with us. I want to live like Joseph—quiet, faithful, brave. Help me trust You when nothing makes sense. Let this week be marked by Your presence. Amen.
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