Song of Solomon 1:14 My beloved is to me as a cluster of henna blossoms in the vineyards of En Gedi.
En Gedi is a nature reserve about 40 minutes from our home in Israel. Surrounded by dry, barren, rocky ground, except to the east where the Dead Sea lies, it is an oasis, fed year-round by springs of freshwater, and home to some of the most unique wild and botanical life in the world.
In the Song of Solomon, the King likens his beloved to flowers in the desert, his experience of En Gedi, evoking the dramatic contrast between a harsh and arid landscape and the exquisite refreshing floral beauty of an oasis. Such was Solomon's experience of romantic love, perhaps with the Queen of Sheba.
Now you may feel like you’re walking through a desert -- wandering in a wilderness...thirsty, and perhaps, longing for love...
Seek the Lord your God. His Presence is an eternal spring and a perpetual oasis in this arid world, and His love is better than the most desirable romantic experience you could hope for. It's a love that flows from an eternal spring, Yeshua (Jesus), Himself, and its sweetness and power will cause flowers to bloom throughout your dry and barren life.
Drink from the spring of life, your beloved, Yeshua – He will fill you to overflowing and make you, yourself, a living spring...for this thirsty, love-starved world.
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[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]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.
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.