Matthew 11:28-30 Come unto me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and you shall find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy, and My burden is light.
Since I started Worthy News in 1999 there is one thing I have not seen in 22 years — a day that there wasn’t news to cover! I’ve not taken a so-called vacation since I started the ministry — yet I don’t feel worn out or weary. One day I was pondering to myself and thought, “why don’t I feel worn out?”
Many people take vacations because they’re exhausted from work, and need an extended rest to be restored and revitalized. Yet, ironically, more often than not, when they return home, they feel the need for another break to recover from the vacation they just took! Something is missing … and I think it has to do with the essence of Yeshua’s (Jesus) invitation, “Come unto me…”
Our relationship with Yeshua contains a promise of rest. His yoke is not a heavy yoke of “religious” performance, but an invitation to an intimate relationship which is restful and truly empowering. His joy will be our strength, and serving Him in that relationship will not make us weary or worn out, but actually invigorate, revitalize and re-energize us IF we are doing it with His help, His power.
When Yeshua was here on earth He was surrounded by those who were constantly in need. He faced harsh opposition, and rarely found any privacy. And even in those private times, when he secluded himself for rest — we read that He didn’t sleep, but rather He prayed through the night. Yeshua found His deepest rest in the presence of His Father.
Now, there’s nothing wrong with vacations, and we all really do need to disconnect from our work routine from time to time, but are you feeling worn out or weary, or even close to “burn-out”? Then it’s time to renew and refresh your relationship and allow Yeshua to give you His rest. Wait on the Lord, He will renew your strength, and His rest will restore your weary soul, revitalize your body, and empower you to continue in the vision and calling He gave to you. Find your rest in Him this weekend!
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]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.
King David wrote these words generations before the empty tomb shook the foundations of death. At first glance, Psalm 16 reads like a personal prayer of trust — a yearning for security and closeness with God. But beneath the surface, the Spirit was revealing something deeper, something eternal: a promise not just for David, but for all of us.
The majestic Messianic prophecy of Isaiah 9 culminates in a powerful declaration: “The zeal of the Lord of hosts will perform this.” Not might. Not maybe. Not if we work hard enough. It will be done — because God Himself is passionate to see it through. The Hebrew word for “zeal” here is קִנְאָה (kin’ah), which also means jealousy or burning passion. This is not passive interest — it’s the fiery determination of the LORD of Hosts to establish His Kingdom. The same fiery zeal that struck Egypt with plagues—shattering the power of false gods, that parted the Red Sea and made a way where there was none, that birthed a nation from the womb of slavery, and that drove the Son of God to the cross at Calvary — is the very zeal that will fulfill every promise declared in Isaiah 9.
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.