Romans 8:31-32 – Today’s Verse for August 4, 2025 Monday

“What shall we then say to these things? If God be for us, who can be against us? He that spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us all, how shall he not with him also freely give us all things?“
—  Romans 8:31-32 KJV

Reflection on Today's Verse

There’s a confidence that doesn’t come from pep talks or personality tests—it comes from knowing who’s in your corner. Paul isn’t offering wishful thinking here; he’s anchoring hope in history. God already gave the most costly thing He had: His own Son. That’s the receipt. The cross is not just proof of love; it’s a down payment on every other grace you’ll ever need.

Think about it—if God didn’t flinch at giving you Jesus, do you really think He’s going to ghost you when you need strength, peace, or direction? This isn’t about everything going your way. It’s about nothing standing in the way of His goodness toward you.

If the Maker of the universe says, “I’m for you,” the opposition doesn’t stand a chance—even if it shows up as fear, failure, or that voice in your head that says you’re not enough.

Personal Prayer

Father, sometimes I forget who’s fighting for me. I shrink back, hesitate, wonder if I’m too much or not enough. But today, I stand on this truth: You are for me. You didn’t hold back Your Son—so I won’t hold back my trust. Help me to live like someone backed by heaven.

When I feel overwhelmed, remind me that You’ve already given the greatest gift. And if You gave me Jesus, You won’t stop there. Thank You for being the kind of God who never walks away. Amen.

Author

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    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.