Psalm 37:4 – Today’s Verse for March 12, 2025 Wednesday

“Delight thyself also in the Lord: and he shall give thee the desires of thine heart.“
— Psalm 37:4 KJV

Reflection on Today's Verse

This verse sounds simple, but it holds a deep truth. God isn’t saying, “I’ll give you whatever you want.” He’s saying, “Make Me your joy, and I will shape your desires.”

When we love God more than anything, our hearts start to change. We want different things. We stop chasing what the world says will make us happy—money, success, approval. Instead, we want more of Him. We long for His peace, His guidance, His love. And He gives us those things in full.

God isn’t a vending machine. He’s a Father who knows what’s best. When we trust Him, we stop worrying about what we don’t have. We rest, knowing He is good.

So, delight in Him. Spend time in His Word. Talk to Him. Worship Him. Make Him your greatest treasure. When you do, you’ll find that your heart is full—not because you got what you thought you wanted, but because you got more of Him. And that’s better than anything.

Personal Prayer

Father, You are my greatest joy. Help me to love You more than anything else. Teach my heart to desire what You desire. Change me from the inside out.

I confess that sometimes I chase things that won’t satisfy. I look for happiness in the world instead of in You. But I know only You can truly fill me. Draw me closer. Let my delight be in You alone.

I trust You with my heart. I trust You with my future. Shape my desires so they align with Your will. Give me peace in knowing that whatever You give is always good.

Thank You for loving me so completely. Thank You for being all I need.

In Jesus’ name, 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.