Psalms 118:8 It is better to trust in the LORD than to put confidence in man.
Following the devastating fires in California, we reported that the state’s insurer of last resort is nearing insolvency, potentially leaving many property owners with uncovered losses. This would be catastrophic for affected homeowners.
It reminded me of when we first arrived in Israel about fourteen years ago, my wife was almost eight months pregnant. We wanted to have everything concerning the birth worked out ahead of time because we knew we’d have so many other things to think about once we got here. So we made certain to pay for our Israeli health insurance coverage even before we arrived, just to be sure we would have no problems.
But something inconceivable happened — the Israeli government went on strike before our payment information was entered into their records. When we tried to get prenatal care and sign up at the hospital, they had no record of our payment and thus, no way to help us (unless, of course, we were willing to pay an obscene amount of money, money we didn’t have). Little did we know that the strike would continue on for four months!
To make a long story short, our baby was born on the kitchen floor of our little Jerusalem apartment. I can honestly say it was one of the most terrifying, yet profound experiences of our lives.
But this got me thinking about insurance. Why do we buy insurance? So that we can be insured that we will get the help or care we need, should we ever need it, right? SURE! Well, we even paid in advance to have that assurance, and we didn’t get it when our time of need came!
We are living in crazy times. Times where anything goes — and anything can happen. And there is really only one insurance company that has been found truly faithful to help us in our time of need through it all. No, it’s not Red Cross, or Blue Cross… It’s THE Cross! What’s more, this insurance doesn’t cost us a thing! You’d think more people would jump on this deal, wouldn’t you? Yeshua (Jesus) already paid for it with His hard-earned blood sweat and tears, on the cross two thousand years ago.
Let’s take the time today to spread this heavenly insurance available for FREE — in this day and age … people need it!
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[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]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.
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.