Luke 12:42-46 And the Lord said, Who then is that faithful and wise steward whom his lord shall set over his houseservants, to give them their portion of food in season? 43 Blessed is that servant when his lord comes and finds him so doing. 44 Truly I say to you that he will set him over all his possessions. 45 But if that servant says in his heart, My lord delays his coming, and shall begin to beat the male servants and women servants, and to eat and drink and to be drunk, 46 the lord of that servant will come in a day when he does not expect, and at an hour when he does not know. And he will cut him apart, and will appoint him his portion with the unbelievers.
The concept of ownership often influences how one can view the world, but if we recognize the truth that our time here is short and we can’t take anything with us, it will change our perspective. We are simply stewards of what has been entrusted to us. I’ve been running Worthy and its sites for 25 years, and I’ve never thought I was an owner but rather a steward of a ministry.
But how do we define stewardship? In English, stewardship is the responsibility of safeguarding, nurturing, and enhancing the resources entrusted to you on behalf of another. However, if we dive into the Biblical definitions it will unlock deeper mysteries of stewardship, I believe it will radically transform how we live.
The Hebrew word for steward, Sochen, also translates as agent, representative, and even “power of attorney” in legal terms. In Greek, the word for steward, oikonomos, offers an even deeper insight, meaning overseer or superintendent of household affairs. So the concept of stewardship is not only taking care of one’s goods, but also of one’s family.
To be a wise steward, one must be found faithful, reliable, and trustworthy. The Hebrew word for “faithful,” ne’eman, is closely related to amin, meaning “reliable.” Both of these words share the same root as emunah, the Hebrew word for “faith”. Another word derived from this same root is omenet, meaning “nursemaid”—someone entrusted with the responsibility to nurture and raise a household and its children.
So in both Hebrew and Greek, there is a deeper revelation about stewardship, it’s not just about goods and possessions, but about how we treat one another!
So stewardship in not simply responsibility over one’s material possessions, but also encompasses our care for people and the relationships we have with one another. When we embrace this Biblical understanding, it will profoundly shape our perspective of life, what we are called to do, and how we live. So let’s choose to live to a higher level of faithfulness, trustworthiness, and love, knowing that this life and all that it entails is ultimately simply on loan to us by God!
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[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]These verses capture one of the most profound Messianic truths in all of Scripture. What man cast aside, God exalted. What the builders saw as flawed and unfit, God chose as the foundation of His eternal plan. Yeshua (Jesus), the rejected One, is the very cornerstone upon which salvation, identity, and destiny are built. This is more than a theological concept — it’s a divine reversal that reveals the heart of redemption. Rejection by man does not disqualify–it often qualifies you for God’s greatest purposes.
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.