Lamentations 3:22-23 The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.
A major upheaval in American politics is on the horizon as the Supreme Court will release a verdict in a few weeks re-deciding the issue of abortion across the land. For us who recognize the fundamental value of human life from conception, the decision has enormous portent and consequence, both spiritual and natural.
Pregnancy in a woman involves the intimate, meticulous development of a human life in her womb. The Hebrew word for womb is "rechem". The verb, "rachem" (with the same root letters) means to love, to love deeply, to have mercy and to be compassionate. The connection in Hebrew between "womb" and "love" or "compassion" is literally visceral. A mother's love for her baby, so natural, deep, tender and compassionate, beautifully exemplifies our Father’s love for us. He is compassionate and merciful toward his human creatures.
The Hebrew for "tender mercy" or "compassion" is "rachamim"; another (plural) word with the same root letters. The connection to a woman's womb and her intimate, visceral connection with her growing child, is obvious. A baby in the womb is lovingly protected, sheltered, and nurtured up to the moment of birth.
When discussing the Kingdom of God with Nicodemus the Lord Yeshua said, "Unless one is born again, he cannot see the Kingdom of God". This rebirth, a spiritual one "from above", is a profound spiritual parallel to natural birth, and is characterized by the same, even deeper, love, compassion and mercy, of our Heavenly Father.
We are spiritually birthed by, through, and into the compassion and mercy of God. If we truly appreciate the precious relationship between a birth mother and the infant growing in her womb, how much more might we receive the deep comfort of the spiritual birth we have experienced through faith in the Messiah. By His tender mercy, it's a comfort which is not ever "aborted", but continues "new every morning"... even forever.
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[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]On July 4th, America remembers a bold declaration — a break from tyranny, a longing for a better government, and the birth of a nation built on liberty. The Founders risked everything to establish a new way of life, one where freedom could flourish. Their cry was clear: “We will no longer be ruled by kings who oppress–we will be governed by laws that reflect liberty and justice.”
In a world full of uncertainty, this verse from Romans stands like a lighthouse in the storm: “The God of hope…” Not just the God who gives hope, but the very source of it. When everything around us seems shaken — economies falter, nations rage, relationships strain — it is the God of hope who remains unshaken and unchanging.
When Yeshua (Jesus) spoke these words not only to the seventy He sent ahead of Him, but to every disciple who follows Him into the world, it’s a striking picture: fields overflowing with a harvest, ready to be gathered. The problem isn’t the readiness of the harvest — it’s the shortage of workers willing to go.
This piercing question opens Psalm 11 like a cry from the heart in troubled times. It’s a question we ask when law and order collapse, when truth is ridiculed, and when those who do evil seem to triumph. The foundations — the principles of righteousness, justice, and truth that uphold society — are under siege. And it begs the question: What can God’s people do when everything righteous seems to be crumbling?
After one of the greatest spiritual victories in all of Scripture–calling down fire from heaven on Mount Carmel and turning the hearts of Israel back to God–Elijah finds himself blindsided by fear.
Elijah heard what no one else did — a storm was coming. Though the sky was still blue and the ground still cracked from years of drought, Elijah discerned the sound of abundance. It was a prophetic knowing, a spiritual sensitivity that saw past what was visible into what God was about to do.
When Elijah cast his cloak over Elisha in the field, it wasn’t just a symbolic act — it was a divine call. Elisha understood this and responded not with delay or excuse, but with decisive action. After asking to say goodbye to his parents, he returned, slaughtered his oxen, and used the wooden yokes as fuel for the sacrifice. Then he gave the meal to the people and walked away from everything familiar to follow the prophet Elijah.