Galatians 5:25 – Today’s Verse for May 12, 2025 Monday

“If we live in the Spirit, let us also walk in the Spirit.“
— Galatians 5:25 KJV

Reflection on Today's Verse

This verse isn’t asking us to be perfect. It’s reminding us we already have the Spirit—we’re alive because of Him. The only thing left to do? Walk with Him. Stay close. Match His pace. Some days we sprint, others we stumble. But walking with the Spirit isn’t about how fast you move; it’s about who you’re walking with. It’s not performance, it’s presence.

When you feel lost or tired or distracted by the noise of everything else, just remember—He’s not rushing ahead. He’s right there. Patient. Gentle. Leading. All He asks is that we stop trying to lead the dance and let Him set the rhythm.

You don’t have to figure out life on your own. Just walk with Him. One step at a time. That’s grace.

Personal Prayer

Lord, thank You for giving me life through Your Spirit. Sometimes I forget that I don’t have to force or fake it—I just have to walk with You. Help me slow down when I rush ahead, and move when I get stuck. Tune my heart to Your rhythm. When I drift, gently pull me back.

I don’t want to lead—I want to follow. Not out of fear, but out of trust. Keep me in step with You, Lord. Let Your Spirit guide my thoughts, shape my choices, and steady my feet.

One step at a time, with You. That’s all I need. Amen.

Author

Alona
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.