Colossians 3:23-24 – Today’s Verse for May 25, 2025 Sunday

“And whatsoever ye do, do it heartily, as to the Lord, and not unto men; Knowing that of the Lord ye shall receive the reward of the inheritance: for ye serve the Lord Christ.“
—  Colossians 3:23-24 KJV

Reflection on Today's Verse

It’s easy to think we’re grinding for a paycheck, a boss, or some applause. But this verse flips it. Whatever you’re doing—whether you’re leading a meeting or scrubbing floors—God sees it. And He calls it worship.

That means your daily grind isn’t just survival. It’s sacred. Even the stuff that feels invisible? He sees it. Even the thankless moments? He rewards it. You’re not hustling for human approval; you’re serving the King.

So yeah, excellence matters. Not because you need to impress anyone—but because God’s in the room. Every task is a chance to say, “This is for You.”

Grace doesn’t make our work smaller. It makes our motive deeper. We don’t work for worth. We work from it. Because we already have His favor, we show up with heart, not just hands.

Personal Prayer

Lord, sometimes I forget who I’m really working for. I get caught up in deadlines, opinions, and trying to prove something. But You remind me that everything I do—even the small, unnoticed things—can be for You.

Give me a heart that serves with joy, not just out of duty. Help me work with purpose, not performance. When I feel unseen or unappreciated, remind me that You never miss a moment. You see. You reward. You care.

Teach me to bring You into every task, every conversation, every decision. Let my work reflect Your grace, not just my effort. I don’t want to just get through the day—I want to honor You in it. Amen.

Author

  • Bible Verse of the Day Official Logo

    Alona Smith writes like she sketches—quick strokes, bold colors, no eraser. She ran a small-town art studio before VerseForTheDay invited her to swap charcoal for chapters, yet paint still flecks her keyboard. Dawn finds her barefoot on the porch, swirling watercolors across a travel Bible, letting sunrise seep into the margins. Neighbors wave as she bikes to the farmers’ market, basket rattling with sunflowers and Psalms scribbled on kraft-paper price tags.Alona trusts that Scripture behaves like clay: press your palms in, and a vessel appears where empty air once lived. Afternoon workshops with foster teens prove the point; they mold hope into coffee mugs, then watch steam carry it forward.Diplomas? Only framed sketches of hands lifted in worship. Awards? A dog-eared gratitude list taped to her fridge. Open her reflections when cynicism scratches—she’ll slide a brush into your grip and show you light hiding in the smear of everyday color.