Isaiah 43:19 Behold, I will do a new thing; now it shall spring forth; shall ye not know it? I will even make a way in the wilderness, and rivers in the desert.
The Hebrew word for a dried up river bed is "Nachal". Israel has many of these. Here, in Israel it rains in winter, but not in summer. In the summer, these places stand as a testament of the rains that once fell and of the rains yet to come. Then, when they do come, the Nechalim (nachal plural) almost instantly fill with water. This is what the Scripture means when it says, "I will give you rivers in the desert." There is a promise in that for us.
We, like the Nachal, were made to flow with the water and the life of the Spirit of God. When we are not connected to God, to His flowing waters, we feel dry and empty -- without purpose. But we were meant to be overflowing! Maybe you are feeling dry and empty in your life and walk? Praise the Lord! What an opportunity to allow God to fill you with His rivers of living water!
If you’re dry and thirsty, turn to the Lord today and the waters will flood in again!
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[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]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.”
Psalm 2 is a divine announcement — a heavenly decree that demands the world’s attention. It begins with a question: “Why do the nations rage, and the peoples plot in vain?” (Ps. 2:1). The nations rise up, not against injustice or tyranny, but against the rule of God’s Meshiach (Messiah). That Anointed is Yeshua — the Son whom the Father has set on His holy hill in Zion (Ps. 2:6). The psalm strips away all pretense and exposes the heart of human rebellion: it is a refusal to be ruled by His Messiah.