Isaiah 9:6a – “For unto us a Child is born, unto us a Son is given…”
The prophet Isaiah begins with language so familiar that it’s often read too quickly. Yet within this brief phrase lies a depth of mystery and majesty that anchors the entire gospel. “For unto us a Child is born” speaks of an earthly event–Messiah’s humanity. He was born as all men are born, taking on flesh, entering a specific culture, time, and lineage. The Hebrew word for “born” (yalad) reinforces His full identification with us. This is the miracle of the incarnation: God wrapped in the vulnerability of a newborn child.
But Isaiah doesn’t stop there. He continues, “unto us a Son is given.” This second phrase doesn’t repeat the first–it deepens it. The Child is born, but the Son is given, not created. The eternal Son of God–the second person of the Godhead–was not born in Bethlehem in the way His humanity was. He was given a gift from heaven. The Hebrew word natan (נָתַן) is used throughout Scripture to denote intentional, covenantal giving — often in the context of offerings and sacrifices. This is the divine generosity that would later be unveiled entirely at the cross.
The dual nature of Messiah–fully God, fully man–is not abstract theology; it’s the foundation of your salvation. Only a perfect man could die in the place of mankind, and only God could bear the infinite weight of humanity’s sin. Yeshua (Jesus) didn’t come to Earth as a religious symbol. He came as the ultimate expression of God’s love–clothed in flesh, destined to bleed, and determined to redeem. He is heaven’s answer to earth’s need.
This changes how we approach Him. He didn’t arrive with royal demand but with divine mercy. He didn’t come to take from us — but to give Himself for us. In a world where value is so often based on performance, this truth lifts the burden: your worth is not found in your striving, but in His giving. You don’t work your way to Yeshua; He came to you.
So understand this–not with cold intellect, but with trembling wonder: a Son was given for you. Not loaned, not bargained, not reluctantly offered–but freely, fully, and forever given. Heaven’s most precious treasure was not withheld. The One through whom all things were made stepped out of eternity and into a womb–for you. The radiance of God’s glory wrapped Himself in the frailty of flesh–for you. The eternal Son, co-equal with the Father, laid aside His majesty and embraced mortality–for you.
He was given not merely to inspire you, but to redeem you. Given not to judge, but to justify. Given not to add to your burdens, but to break them. The weight of your sin, your shame, your story–He took it all upon Himself. This is not abstract theology; this is a divine intervention. Heaven bent low and placed its finest jewel into a broken world–for you.
So fall to your knees in awe, and let this reality pierce through every layer of doubt and weariness: You were worth the giving of the Son. Not because of who you are, but because of who He is. And He is love in its purest form, gift in its highest expression, and grace in its fullest measure. Be still–and receive the wonder of His love!
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[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]Make no mistake—the spirit of antisemitism is very much alive today. Yet this isn’t a new struggle. It is an ancient spiritual war that has been ongoing for thousands of years. As people worldwide celebrate Purim, recalling the Jewish people’s deliverance from Haman’s evil schemes that took place in the ancient Kingdom of Persia (Iran), we are reminded of a deeper reality: a spiritual conflict between heavenly powers and demonic principalities.
The Festival of Purim, which we celebrate on the 14th of Adar—the last month in the Biblical calendar—begins this Thursday evening and continues through Friday evening this year. Although Purim isn’t one of the moedim, or appointed festivals named in the Torah, it arose in the 4th century BC and has been cherished ever since.
In the Book of Kings, when King Solomon began his reign, God asked him, “What shall I give you?” He replied, “I am a little child; I do not know how to go out or come in” (1 Kings 3:7). Such a phrase seems curious, yet it holds deep significance. It is echoed throughout Scripture, revealing a principle that intimacy with God leads to victory!
When Yeshua (Jesus) went into the synagogue in Nazareth and was handed the scroll of Isaiah to read [Luke 4:18], He opened it to the passage we know of as Isaiah 61, a powerful Messianic proclamation filled with hope and promise and fresh with the joyful good news of His arrival. After reading the passage He immediately declared that it was fulfilled in the hearing of those present. The first response was amazement and wonder that the carpenter’s son was so gracious a communicator. But this did not last, as Yeshua immediately challenged his audience with a prophetic expectation…that they would reject Him, which they immediately did…nevertheless…
F.B. Meyer once said, “The education of our faith is incomplete [till] we learn that God’s providence works through loss…that there’s a ministry to us through the failure and fading of things. The dwindling brook where Elijah sat is a picture of our lives.
Most people reading this passage tend to focus in on the fruit that is produced. Okay…But a closer look will reveal that the Lord is really focusing on the tree. The fruit merely demonstrates the quality of the tree. We have all encountered this: there are trees whose fruit is healthy and delicious, and there are trees whose fruit is scarcely edible, or even useless.
One evening an old Cherokee told his grandson about a battle that goes on in every person. He said, “My son, the battle is between two ‘wolves’. One is evil — it is anger, envy, jealousy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego. The other is good…