Isaiah 9:7a – Of the increase of His government and peace there will be no end, upon the throne of David…
Hebrews 12:27-28 Now this, “YET ONCE MORE,” indicates the removal of those things that are being shaken, as of things that are made, that the things which cannot be shaken may remain. 28 Therefore, since we are receiving a kingdom which cannot be shaken, let us have grace, by which we may serve God acceptably with reverence and godly fear.
In a world weary from political upheaval, moral confusion, and fleeting peace, Isaiah offers us a vision of something profoundly different—an ever-increasing kingdom ruled by a King whose justice is not compromised, whose peace is not fleeting, and whose throne is eternally secure. The phrase “of the increase of His government and peace there will be no end” speaks not just of duration, but of expansion—a kingdom that doesn’t plateau, doesn’t weaken, and doesn’t shrink back in the face of darkness. Instead, it advances, multiplies, and transforms.
The reference to the throne of David anchors this kingdom in covenant promise. In 2 Samuel 7, God swore that David’s lineage would produce a ruler whose reign would be everlasting. This wasn’t fulfilled in Solomon or any earthly king. It pointed forward to Messiah, the Son of David, who would reign not only over Israel, but over all creation. His authority is both royal and redemptive—restoring the fractured order of the world, not through force, but through righteousness.
The word shalom—often translated “peace”—goes far beyond the absence of war. Its Hebrew root (שׁ־ל־ם) implies wholeness, completeness, and restoration. Under Messiah’s reign, broken things are made whole, relationships are healed, and creation itself is brought into harmony. His kingdom doesn’t just address surface problems; it restores the human heart, society, and even time itself. Every injustice that history could not fix, every wound left unattended, every cry for truth—finds its answer in His unending rule.
When the kingdoms of this world shake—and they are shaking—this verse becomes an anchor for our souls. Presidents, empires, and movements come and go, but you belong to a kingdom that cannot be shaken (Hebrews 12:28). You are not at the mercy of headlines or elections. The government of your life rests on the shoulders of the King whose dominion grows even in dark days. And the peace He brings is not escapism—it is victory rooted in eternity.
So lift your eyes above the crumbling thrones of this world and fix them on the King whose name is Faithful and True. His justice will not fail. His peace will not fade. His government will not end. The increase is already happening—in hearts awakened, in nations stirred, in broken places healed by His Word. Let every fear flee. Let every doubt yield. Let every broken place be restored under the weight of His glory. For the government is His, the peace is His, and the throne is His forever—and most importantly, you are His.
Copyright 1999-2025 Worthy Devotions. This devotional was originally published on Worthy Devotions and was reproduced with permission.
How to display the above article within the Worthy Suite WordPress Plugin.
[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]When we read the Beatitudes, we catch a glimpse of Yeshua’s heart and the values that define His Kingdom. His words unveil the kind of life that God calls blessed—marked by humility, mercy, purity of heart, a hunger for righteousness, peacemaking, and faithful endurance in the face of suffering.
We often celebrate beginnings—new chapters, breakthroughs, divine appointments. But in God’s economy, every true beginning requires a holy crossing. Before the Hebrews could enter the Promised Land, they had to leave Egypt. Before they entered the Promised Land, they had to cross over the Red Sea. And before Abraham could receive God’s promises, he had to obey a single command: “Leave.”
When the children of Israel wandered in the wilderness for forty years, they traversed a rugged, unpredictable landscape — mile after mile of mountains, valleys, rocks, and desert sands — as they journeyed from slavery in Egypt to the Promised Land.
For many, God remains a theory—an idea borrowed from tradition, deduced from the cosmos, or tucked quietly into the corners of a creed. He is believed in from afar, but is rarely encountered. Even among believers, it’s not uncommon to live with a distant reverence for God while lacking a vibrant, personal communion with Him.
God has always longed for intimacy with us. He formed us for Himself–to walk with Him, to know Him, to delight in His Presence. This is the very heartbeat of creation: relationship, not religion. Yet sin drove a wedge between us. A veil was drawn, shutting out the light of His face and placing distance where there was once communion.
A beachhead is the first critical objective in a military invasion–the spot where a force lands on enemy territory and secures a position for greater advancement. It’s the place of breakthrough. And it’s also the place of fiercest resistance.
David wrote Psalm 3 while running for his life — betrayed, heartbroken, and hunted by his own son, Absalom. The weight of rebellion wasn’t just political; it was personal. His household had turned against him. Friends became foes. Loyal hearts grew cold. The throne he once held was now surrounded by enemies, and the whispers grew louder: “There is no salvation for him in God.”