Welcome to Day One.

Take a few moments to read Ephesians 3:19 and Genesis 32:22–32 (NLT) with curiosity. These passages may feel very different—one speaks of knowing Christ’s love that surpasses knowledge, and the other tells of Jacob wrestling through the night—but together they invite us to notice how God meets us in both tenderness and struggle.

As you read, slow down and pay attention to what stirs in you.

• What might it mean to know a love beyond understanding?
• Why would God choose to bless Jacob through a wrestle?

Let these questions shape your reflection and open your heart to how God may want to meet you today.

Our series roots us in Ephesians 3 and the way of surrender. Week 3 invites us to explore blessing—not a life of ease, but a life made full in Christ’s love (v.19). Jacob held on through the night and met God at daybreak; we carry that name and that hope. As we reflect and practice together, consider loosening your grip—receive what the Father gives, and express trust through one modest, concrete step of generosity.

Night has a way of bringing our wrestlings to the surface.

When the noise of the day fades, what’s left is what we’ve been clinging to. For Jacob, it was fear — fear of his brother, fear of the past catching up, fear that God’s blessing might run out. And so he wrestled.

But Scripture tells us something remarkable: Jacob didn’t just wrestle with God; he refused to let go until God blessed him. That’s not defiance—it’s desperate trust. It’s the soul saying, “I won’t leave this place until I know You are good, God.”

We all have those nights—moments where surrender feels like loss, but it’s really the threshold of blessing. Because in God’s economy, blessing doesn’t come from getting what we want; it comes from being transformed in His presence.

To surrender is to stop fighting for control and start clinging for communion. Jacob walked away limping —but walking with God.

For Reflection:

1.  Where in your life do you sense God inviting you to stop wrestling for control and start holding on in trust?

2.  How might open-handed generosity — of time, money, or attention — be a modern act of surrender that welcomes His blessing?

There was a season when I found myself wrestling with God —not in a crisis of belief, but in that quiet tug-of-war between trust and control.

I had been asking God to bless my work, to expand the reach of what I was building. But if I’m honest, what I really wanted was reassurance—that my plans were safe in my own hands.

One morning, sitting in stillness, I sensed God whisper:

 “You keep asking for My blessing, but you’re still clinging to your own blueprint.”

It wasn’t condemnation; it was invitation — an invitation to loosen my grip on outcomes and open my hands to partnership.

That day, I surrendered one small thing I’d been holding tightly — a financial goal that had quietly become an idol. I gave it back to God, not as resignation but as trust. What followed wasn't an immediate breakthrough, but peace—a deep awareness that God’s blessing is less about accumulation and more about alignment.

Sometimes the blessing isn’t what changes, but who we become as we surrender.

For Reflection:

1.  What might you be holding onto that feels too important to release?

2.  Is there a way you could bless someone else today from the very place you’ve been tempted to control—your schedule, your resources, or your influence?