1 John 4:18 There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear. For fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not been perfected in love.
Isaiah 60:1-2 Arise, shine; for thy light is come, and the glory of the Lord is risen upon thee. For, behold, the darkness shall cover the earth, and gross darkness the people: but the Lord shall arise upon thee, and his glory shall be seen upon thee.
Ever since the Garden of Eden where the story began and our first parents sinned, fear has permeated humankind. The fracturing of relationships, God to man, man to man, man to woman, engendered a universal pandemic of fear and alienation. Fear supplied the Adversary, Satan ("satan" means adversary in Hebrew) with a powerful means for control, manipulation, and deception of fallen humanity, with nearly infinite varieties of expression.
In this light, 1 John 4:18 is perhaps one of the most significant and profound statements in all of scripture, and one which we do well to memorize, meditate upon, and pray into. "There is no fear in love..." In a sense we could say that fear is the greatest enemy of love. If love is our goal, if God is love and we seek to be like Him, then fear must be acknowledged and banished from our motivations. This may not be easy, but is a worthy and entirely possible approach.
Whatever causes fear in us will be a test; it will bring out our best...or worst response. The emotional or even physical reaction of "fight" or "flight" will threaten to overwhelm my connection with God's Spirit within. If I allow fear to manipulate or control me and drive me into a reactive mode rather than a responsive Spirit-controlled one, love will evaporate. This reaction to fear might simply be expressed by another F-E-A-R acronym, Forget Everything And Run....or Fight Everything And Ram.
But how about Face Everything And Rise!!! Those who do will reveal the growing perfection in love which is our inheritance in Messiah Yeshua. Where love is made perfect fear is cast out! With fear conquered we are equipped to be light in the darkness because the Holy Spirit in us will not be quenched from revealing the glory of God through us.
Can you imagine a more perfect time in these days of growing darkness to take this word to heart? Can you begin to fathom the opportunity to rise above your fears and to reveal the glory of God? How to do it? Cast anxieties on Him;
[1 Peter 5:7]; pray and supplicate with thanksgiving; [Philippians 4:6]; if you lack wisdom, ask with faith; [James 1:5-6]; let the word of Christ dwell in you richly; [Colossians 3:16];" fear not them which kill the body, but are not able to kill the soul;[Matthew 10:28]". Face and rise above your fear now, today. The glory of the LORD will arise upon you.
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[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]These verses capture one of the most profound Messianic truths in all of Scripture. What man cast aside, God exalted. What the builders saw as flawed and unfit, God chose as the foundation of His eternal plan. Yeshua (Jesus), the rejected One, is the very cornerstone upon which salvation, identity, and destiny are built. This is more than a theological concept — it’s a divine reversal that reveals the heart of redemption. Rejection by man does not disqualify–it often qualifies you for God’s greatest purposes.
These verses are far more than ancient lyrics — they are a spiritual invitation. The psalmist doesn’t just admire the gate — he pleads for it to open. “Open to me the gates of righteousness…” This is the cry of a heart that longs for access to God, not by merit, but by mercy. In Hebrew thought, gates represent transition points — thresholds between the common and the holy, the outside and the inner court, the temporal and the eternal. These are not man-made doors — they are divine entrances into the presence and promises of the LORD.
As we continue our study in Psalm 118, I want to take a deep dive into verses 17-18, where the psalmist makes one of the boldest declarations in all of Scripture: “I shall not die, but live, and declare the works of the LORD.” This isn’t the voice of someone untouched by pain — it’s the cry of someone who has been through the fire and come out declaring God’s faithfulness. This statement is not a denial of suffering; it’s a defiance of death. It’s the resolve of a heart that’s been chastened, refined, and pressed, yet remains confident in the God who preserves life — not just for survival, but for purpose.
Over the past two devotionals, we heard the song of the redeemed and stood at the wells of salvation. We saw how strength, song, and salvation flow from Yeshua Himself — how the joy of drawing from His presence is not just a poetic promise but a lifeline for our day. Yet today, we stand at a prophetic threshold. Something has shifted. Something has broken open. We are not only being refreshed — we are being awakened and called.
Yesterday, we heard the anthem of the redeemed rise like a trumpet blast: “The LORD is my strength and song, and He has become my salvation.” We explored how this was more than personal — it was prophetic, Messianic, and generational. We saw Yeshua not only as our Deliverer but as the very embodiment of God’s strength, the melody of our praise, and the fulfillment of every promise. We stood in awe as tents of rejoicing rose in the midst of warfare, and households became sanctuaries of celebration. But today, we go deeper — we step to the well.
There’s a reason this verse resounds like a national anthem of the redeemed. It’s not just a personal declaration—it’s a generational cry that echoes back to Moses at the Red Sea (Exodus 15:2) and forward to the final deliverance of Israel. The Hebrew word for salvation—Yeshua—makes this verse unmistakably Messianic. It isn’t a vague deliverance. It is the revelation of Yeshua (Jesus), the Deliverer, who embodies strength, becomes our song, and stands as the fulfillment of God’s redemptive plan.
The cry that shattered the stillness of Golgotha—“My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?” (Psalm 22:1; Matthew 27:46)—was not a random cry of despair, but the deliberate voice of Yeshua pointing to Scripture. As He hung on the tree, bearing the sin of the world, He invoked the ancient words of David—not only identifying Himself as the righteous sufferer, but signaling that Psalm 22 was unfolding before their very eyes. In that moment, heaven and earth bore witness to a divine mystery: the Holy One, seemingly abandoned, was fulfilling a prophecy written a millennium earlier. Yeshua did not merely suffer—He fulfilled every word, every shadow, every stroke of divine prophecy.