I have read this quarterly booklet of devotions for many years. Decades even. Since I was about 15 years old, off and then on again. Most of my formation as a Bible learner was made by reading the Scriptures listed in the daily lectionary that Forward D-B-D prints in this tiny booklet.You can subscribe to a print edition or read it for free on-line.

“Forward Day by Day is a booklet of daily inspirational meditations reflecting on a specific Bible passage, chosen from the daily lectionary readings as listed in the Revised Common Lectionary or the Daily Office from the Episcopal Church’s Book of Common Prayer.

Published quarterly, the daily meditations are rich in substance and offer a wide range of witness and experiences. Each month’s meditation is written by a different author.

Inspiring readers since our first issue was published in 1935, Forward Day by Day remains a significant resource for daily prayer and Bible study to more than a half million readers and listeners worldwide.”

You can download the app for Apple products at https://apps.apple.com/us/app/forward-day-by-day/id561455965

They also posted this: Google has removed our Forward Day by Day app from the Google Play Store. Despite our adherence to all terms and long history on the Google Play Store, we are currently unable to satisfy Google’s verification requirements. We have been working for months to appeal this decision and continue to explore how to get the app back into Android users’ hands.

The author for the month of July, 2026 is Tina Francis. Both Bob and I have enjoyed her writing. Her bio reads: Tina Francis is a writer, photographer, and seminarian pursuing the priesthood int eh Episcopal Church. Born to South Indian parents, raise din Dubai, and shaped in Canada and Seattle, she carries many hones in her bones – an atlas of memory and migration.” Such an interesting woman!

Her is her entry for July 20.

Matthew 26:39b My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me; yet not what I want but what you want.

“In Gethsemane, the air is heavy with the scent of bruised grass and the metallic tang of fear. Jesus kneels, hands in the soil as if steadying himself against the weight of what’s coming. The moon spills a cold light over his back. It’s not the absence of faith that drives him to pray like this; it’s the abundance of it. He knows what obedience will cost.

“I have prayed this way. I have my own cups. Not crucifixion, but quiet devastations: the diagnosis that didn’t change, the apology that never came, the joy that slipped through my fingers no matter how tightly I closed them.

“Julian of Norwich wrote, “All shall be well,” but she never promised it would be painless. Surrender tastes less like peace and more like metal on the tongue. Maybe that’s the prayer here – not certainty, but consent: the willingness to let God close the distance between what we want and what will be. To say yes when we do not understand the story, only the storyteller.”

“Not certainty, but consent. To say yes.” I would add say yes, continually.