Genesis 6:13 And God said to Noah, “I have determined to make an end of all flesh, for the earth is filled with violence [Hamas] through them. Behold, I will destroy them with the earth.
Psalms 11:5 The LORD tests the righteous, but his soul hates the wicked and the one who loves violence [Hamas].
2 Peter 2:5 if he did not spare the ancient world, but preserved Noah, a herald of righteousness, with seven others, when he brought a flood upon the world of the ungodly;
If these really are the “Days of Noah,” we would expect to see a world filled with increasing violence. The Hebrew for “violence” is “Hamas”(חָמָס), by coincidence, the name of the terrorist organization Israel has been fighting for decades. And simply perusing my news briefs in recent years gives abundant evidence for the conclusion that this terrible season is well underway. Noah’s day was filled with violence and also false witness, which is a second meaning for the word “Hamas” [e.g., Deut. 19:16; Psalm 35:11]; violence and lies, then and now…
What greater test for individuals and communities of righteousness could there be but days like these? “The LORD tests the righteous, but his soul hates the wicked and the one who loves violence, (and false witness)”; [hamas]. How often do we need to hear it, “your faith is being, will be, tested”? [1 Peter 4:12] Yeshua (Jesus) was tested in the wilderness, for 40 days, and by the devil himself, and we read that there was no violence (Hamas) found in Him, nor any deceit in his mouth [Isaiah 53:9]. If it was necessary for the Messiah Himself to be tested, should it be strange for us to be so subjected?
Noah was also tested while he built and preached during those dark days. There must have been plenty of mocking and false witnesses circulating throughout the violent community surrounding him. It is the same today, with Hamas– the media portraying any report given by terrorists as fact. Indeed, we too, are surrounded by false witnesses seeking to provoke and fill the world with violence.
Noah was called a “preacher of righteousness” in a violent world. Yeshua was surrounded by false witnesses, and yet “Hamas” was not found in Him. It can be done. God doesn’t test us to prove we will fail and succumb to this wicked generation. He tests us to build faith and transform our character [James 1:2-4]. We can prove the authenticity of Yeshua in this violent and deceitful age, if we stand the testing intended to transform us. And then, both our lives and our words will be the message in the present Days of Noah.
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Life wears us down. We live in a world of relentless motion, pressure, and performance. Yeshua (Jesus) doesn’t deny this. Instead, He speaks directly to those who are “weary and heavy-laden.” The Greek for “weary” (kopiao) means utterly worn out—soul-tired, not just physically fatigued. The burdens He mentions aren’t only external tasks but inward baggage: guilt, shame, expectations, and hidden wounds. Yeshua’s call isn’t merely an invitation to stop—it’s a call to come. He offers what no one else can: rest that restores.
When we read the promises of God, we must read them the way we ourselves want to be heard—in full context. Just as we expect others to understand our words in light of what we’ve said before, God expects us to interpret His promises in light of all He has revealed in His Word.
A few days ago, I shared a quote from B.J. Willhite, and today I want to delve deeper into his powerful insight. He wrote, “The law of prayer is the highest law of the universe—it can overcome the other laws by sanctioning God’s intervention. When implemented properly, the law of prayer permits God to exercise His sovereignty in a world under the dominion of a rebel with free will, in a universe governed by natural law.”
When God spoke to Abram, the command was clear yet profoundly personal. The Hebrew phrase lech lecha carries a dual meaning: “go forth” and “go for yourself.” This journey wasn’t just a physical relocation; it was a spiritual pilgrimage—a call to walk out God’s will and to walk into his divine inheritance. Abram’s journey was not merely about distance but about destiny.
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.
Tonight we’ll participate in the Independence Day celebration in Israel — and what a party! — shows, fireworks, music, dancing, everything under the sun!
Yesterday, Israel observed Yom HaShoah—Holocaust Remembrance Day—honoring the memory of the six million Jews who perished. Tragically, a recent poll reveals that nearly half of Israelis fear the possibility of another Holocaust. In light of this sobering reality, I want to share a powerful story of one remarkable woman who rescued 2,500 Jewish children from the ghettos during World War II.