Be Careful to Take Credit!

Isaiah 10:15 Shall the ax boast itself against him who chops with it? Or shall the saw exalt itself against him who saws with it? As if a rod could wield itself against those who lift it up, Or as if a staff could lift up, as if it were not wood!

One constant pitfall we must watch for is taking credit for something that God does in or through us, or using the gifts and callings of God for self-exaltation. In that light it may be easier to handle poverty, weakness, or insignificance, than wealth, ability, power or authority, since poverty and frailty are not normally things we boast about, and they cause us to recognize our need for God. Prosperity, gifting, and anointing, on the other hand can be powerful temptations, leading to pride, covetousness, and self-sufficiency.

Saul, who came from a humble background, was anointed king of Israel, yet his heart was revealed when the Lord exalted him, but he exulted in his own position, eventually coveting it so severely he became a fierce enemy of God. The Lord then removed His spirit from Saul and the true condition of the man became apparent to everyone.

Even the great Solomon whose gifting, anointing, and prosperity were unsurpassed in some ways, seems to have taken for granted his abilities and wealth, and, somehow, rationalizing his blatant disobedience to God’s law, he fell into idolatry and brought disaster to the Kingdom of Israel. This seems amazing, given the fact that Solomon’s most precious gift was his wisdom. (Those with this gift should take note).

Be careful how you handle the gifts and successes that God gives you! Enjoy His blessings as you serve in your family, business, or ministry – but never forget where it all comes from, and to whom the glory belongs, cause if you do, He will be sure to remind you.

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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.

Psalm 1 opens with a sobering warning about the quiet, deadly slide into sin. The man without God doesn’t become a scorner overnight — he drifts there gradually. First, he walks in ungodly counsel, entertaining worldly thoughts. Then, he stands in the path of sinners, embracing their way of life. Finally, he sits in the seat of the scornful, hardened in heart and mocking what is sacred. This progression — from a man without God to scorner — reveals how small compromises grow into full rebellion, dulling the conscience and deadening the soul.

Last night marked the beginning of Shavuot–a feast that many Christians recognize as Pentecost, the day the Holy Spirit was poured out in Acts 2. But the roots of Shavuot stretch back much further. Long before that upper room encounter–about 1,500 years earlier–Shavuot was the day God gave the law to Moses on Mount Sinai, writing His commandments on tablets of stone.

In a world trembling with uncertainty–political unrest, economic turmoil, natural disasters–God is speaking again. Not in whispers, but with the shaking that reorders lives, redefines kingdoms, and removes everything that cannot stand in the presence of His glory. He is preparing us for a kingdom that cannot be moved. But in the midst of the shaking, there is rest — a deep, unshakable rest reserved for the people of God. Not rest as the world gives — temporary relief or distraction — but the kind that anchors the soul in the storm, the kind that is rooted in Yeshua (Jesus), our rest.