Genesis 15:6 And he believed the LORD, and he counted it to him as righteousness. Genesis 15:17-18 When the sun had gone down and it was dark, behold, a smoking fire pot and a flaming torch passed between these pieces. 18 On that day, the LORD made a covenant with Abram, saying, “To your offspring I give this land, from the river of Egypt to the great river, the river Euphrates,
In the stillness of a desert night, surrounded by cut offerings and the lingering scent of sacrifice, Abram beheld something utterly sacred — God Himself, in the form of a smoking oven and a burning torch, passing between the pieces of a covenant. It was not Abram who walked through the blood-soaked path. It was God alone. And that changes everything.
This act is one of Scripture’s clearest pictures of divine grace. Covenants in the ancient world required both parties to walk through the cut pieces, symbolizing mutual responsibility. But here, only God passes through, taking full responsibility for fulfilling His promise. He binds Himself unilaterally to Abram and his descendants—Israel. The land promise, the coming redemption, and the future inheritance were not based on man’s faithfulness but on God’s unbreakable word.
Yet the scene also shows a battle in the waiting. Before the presence of God appears, vultures descend—unclean birds seeking to steal the sacrifice (Genesis 15:11). Abram drives them away, foreshadowing every believer’s struggle. We offer God our worship, our lives, our praise—but the enemy comes, trying to rob us of our faith and steal our promises. Like Abram, we must rise up, stand guard, and fight to protect what God has spoken. Let us not passively watch while doubt, distraction, or discouragement pick apart our altars.
The symbols that appeared—smoke and fire—are rich with meaning. The smoking oven speaks of judgment, refining, and awe; the burning torch speaks of mercy, light, and hope. Together, they reveal the character of the God of Israel: just and holy, yet merciful and near. In Messiah Yeshua (Jesus), we see both realities embodied. He is Zion’s salvation that burns like a torch (Isaiah 62:1), and He is also the one cut off for the sins of His people (Isaiah 53:8). He walked between the pieces, taking on the burden of blood so that we could walk in the freedom of grace.
Yet, this covenant speaks beyond the personal—it is national. God’s promises to Abram include a literal land for his descendants, and Scripture affirms that this land promise is everlasting (Psalm 105:8-11). The modern restoration of Israel in 1948 was not the result of mere human determination—it was the unfolding of God’s unbreakable covenant. Even after dispersion and judgment, He has remained faithful.
Ezekiel 36 gives voice to His divine intention:
“… It is not for your sake, O house of Israel, that I am about to act, but for the sake of my holy name … And I will sanctify my great name, which was profaned among the heathen… and the heathen shall know that I am the LORD… when I shall be sanctified in you before their eyes. For I will take you from among the heathen, and gather you out of all countries, and will bring you into your own land. Then will I sprinkle clean water upon you… A new heart also will I give you, and a new spirit will I put within you…” (Ezekiel 36:22–26)
From the beginning, God’s plan has echoed with both physical return and spiritual awakening, calling His people back to their land and stirring their hearts to return to Him. His promise was never just to bring them home, but to cleanse them from defilement, ignite them with new life, and fill them with His Spirit through their Messiah. The exile is ending. The restoration has begun.
This is the same God who calls to us today. He still walks between the pieces. He still sanctifies His name through mercy and judgment. And He still offers to remove hearts of stone and replace them with hearts of flesh. In Yeshua, we become part of this redemptive story—grafted in, renewed, and rooted in eternal promise. (Romans 11:11-32)
So rise up, and stand your ground. Bring your offering of praise with boldness. Guard the altar of your heart—drive away every vulture that dares to steal what God has spoken. Trust the One who walked the blood-stained path alone. His fire has not gone out. His torch still blazes in the darkness. And His covenant promises remain unshakable, eternal, and true.
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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.