What will tomorrow bring?

Press the play button to watch the video above or press 'more' to read the transcript of the daily devotion below. Please read Acts 27:1-20 (use your own Bible or use the link above to access the in-App Bible).

As we stand on the eve of Maundy Thursday. We are not yet at the cross, but we can feel the gathering sense of what is to come. On this eve of Maundy Thursday, this verse reminds us that when light feels distant and hope is low, God is still present — close, gentle, and faithful in waiting.

As a hospital chaplain, I meet people every day living through days like this. Illness can take away the things that usually guide us: routines, plans, confidence in the future. Days blur into one another. The storm may not be dramatic, but it is constant — waiting for results, coping with pain, wondering what tomorrow will bring.

This verse does not try to cheer us up or offer quick reassurance. It simply tells the truth: our hope was abandoned—it ran out. That matters. Sometimes faith is not about feeling hopeful, but it is about being honest. The day before Maundy Thursday is like that. Jesus is about to share a meal with His friends, knowing betrayal and loss are close at hand. Nothing is fixed or right yet. The darkness is already there, even around the table.

In my hospital, I often see how important this honesty is. People do not need easy answers. They need space to say, “This is rubbish, this is hard, it isn’t fair,” without being told to stay positive. Often the most caring thing is just to sit quietly with someone—wherever they are.

Maundy Thursday reminds us that God meets people in these ordinary, painful moments. Jesus washes feet, breaks bread, and stays close — not because things are about to get better, but because love does not disappear when hope feels distant. That same love is present every day in hospital: in quiet kindness, gentleness of touch, with friends, families and staff keeping watch through the night. Even when the way ahead is unclear, we know that no one has to face the storm alone.

Maundy Thursday reminds us that God meets us. When the way ahead is uncertain, Christ kneels with care, offering service, closeness, and love. God does not wait for the skies to clear before drawing near.

Let us pray: God of the storm, when the light has gone and hope feels lost, stay close to us and hold us through the waiting. Amen.