God’s Love Endures Forever

Daily Office Reflections
Sunday, August 16, 2026

Today’s Readings: Psalm 118 and 145; Judges 16:15–31; 2 Corinthians 13:1–11; Mark 5:25–34

The Psalmist begins our new week with a truth that runs through all of today’s readings: God’s faithful love endures forever.

Psalm 145 reminds us that God is merciful and compassionate, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love. God is good to everyone. God has compassion for all creation, keeps his promises, and is gracious in all that he does.

But what does that enduring love look like when we make bad choices?

Samson gives us a difficult example. He has been given extraordinary strength, yet he makes choices contrary to what God has asked of him. He allows himself to be deceived by Delilah and finally reveals the secret of his strength.

His choices have consequences.

Samson loses his strength, his freedom, and his sight. God does not simply remove those consequences. Yet, when Samson cries out to God one final time, God hears him.

That is grace.

Grace does not always mean that God takes away the consequences of our choices. Sometimes grace means that God meets us right in the middle of them. Even after Samson’s failures, God has not stopped listening.

Paul offers another picture of grace in his letter to the Corinthians. He is preparing to visit a congregation that has experienced conflict and spiritual problems. Paul warns them to examine themselves before he arrives.

His warning itself is an act of mercy.

There is still time to change.

There is still time to make things right.

There is still time for reconciliation.

Correction is not necessarily the opposite of love. Sometimes love confronts us with the truth because love desires restoration.

Then we come to Jesus.

A woman has suffered from an illness for twelve years. She has tried everything she knows to do, but nothing has made her well.

Then she hears about Jesus.

The crowd around him is enormous, but somehow she makes her way close enough to reach out and touch his garment.

And she is healed.

Jesus stops.

“Who touched me?”

His disciples are puzzled. Everyone is pressing against him. How could he possibly ask who touched him?

But Jesus knows that something has happened.

The frightened woman finally comes forward and tells him the truth.

Jesus does not condemn her. He does not embarrass her. He calls her daughter and tells her that her faith has made her well.

In the middle of a crowd, Jesus sees one suffering person.

That is compassion.

That is mercy.

That is grace.

And perhaps that is what these readings are asking us to remember as we begin another week.

God’s love endures forever.

Our failures do not make God stop loving us. Our mistakes do not make God stop hearing us. Our suffering does not make us invisible to God.

But grace also invites a response.

Paul tells us to examine ourselves. Samson eventually cries out to God. The woman reaches toward Jesus in faith.

God’s grace meets us where we are, but grace also invites us to move—to confess, to change, to trust, to reach out, and to walk differently.

Last week I found myself asking:

Can I trust God when I cannot see the whole picture?

Perhaps this week the question moves one step further:

A Question for the Week

What do I need to examine in myself so that I can respond to God’s grace and walk more faithfully?

I do not need to be perfect before I reach toward God.

Neither do you.

We simply need enough faith to reach out.

The woman touched the hem of Jesus’ garment.

Samson prayed.

The Corinthians were given another opportunity to examine themselves and change.

And God’s steadfast love endured.

It still does.

Let us pray:

Lord, your steadfast love endures forever. You are merciful and compassionate, gracious in all that you do. Give us the courage to examine ourselves honestly. Show us what needs to change. Give us faith to reach toward you, grace to face the consequences of our choices, and strength to walk in a new direction. Renew us, restore us, and make us whole. Amen.

The Curious Pilgrim — Reflections on faith, family, and mysterious grace.