Matthew 18:4 Whosoever therefore shall humble himself as this little child, the same is greatest in the kingdom of heaven.
It never ceases to amaze me how our little girl, Elianna is growing and developing. I remember when she first came into this world, she was so helpless and frail — she couldn’t even move her head without our help. Now, just having turned two, she’s running around and tumbling, jumping, singing and dancing!
Once, back in those days when Elianna was much more dependent on us, she was crying about something or another. And on this particular day, nothing would comfort her until I picked her up into my arms. I remember thinking that day, how good it was to feel needed and loved by this little one — and how wonderful it felt for that moment, that only I could make her happy.
And this got me thinking about something.
How easy is it for us to find our identities in the things we do in this world? We’re good fathers, mothers, husbands, wives, good employees, etc. Now, it’s not wrong to enjoy these positions. The problem comes, though, when we feel so accomplished in these things that they become who we are. And later, when we’re wrapped all up in that identity, and we don’t do such a great job at it, we feel like failures.
It’s much harder to find our identity as a child of God, than it is our earthly occupations. I mean — which would you rather be, a great mom, an employee who’s just earned a raise, an appreciated pastor — or a little helpless child who must be totally dependent upon His Father for every need? But it’s SO important to first find our identity as children of the living God, and then in these secondary things!
Let’s ask the Lord to help us get into a new mindset today. It will help us stay humble and care free, knowing that we are but children of a Father who will take care of it all and striving to stay dependent upon Him!
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[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]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.
The majestic Messianic prophecy of Isaiah 9 culminates in a powerful declaration: “The zeal of the Lord of hosts will perform this.” Not might. Not maybe. Not if we work hard enough. It will be done — because God Himself is passionate to see it through. The Hebrew word for “zeal” here is קִנְאָה (kin’ah), which also means jealousy or burning passion. This is not passive interest — it’s the fiery determination of the LORD of Hosts to establish His Kingdom. The same fiery zeal that struck Egypt with plagues—shattering the power of false gods, that parted the Red Sea and made a way where there was none, that birthed a nation from the womb of slavery, and that drove the Son of God to the cross at Calvary — is the very zeal that will fulfill every promise declared in Isaiah 9.
In a world weary from political upheaval, moral confusion, and fleeting peace, Isaiah offers us a vision of something profoundly different—an ever-increasing kingdom ruled by a King whose justice is not compromised, whose peace is not fleeting, and whose throne is eternally secure. The phrase “of the increase of His government and peace there will be no end” speaks not just of duration, but of expansion—a kingdom that doesn’t plateau, doesn’t weaken, and doesn’t shrink back in the face of darkness. Instead, it advances, multiplies, and transforms.
In the Hebraic understanding, a name isn’t just a label—it reveals essence, identity, and destiny. Isaiah doesn’t say these are merely descriptions of the Messiah; he says His Name shall be called — meaning this is who He is. When we declare these names, we are not offering poetic praise — we are calling upon real attributes of the living King. In just one verse, the prophet unveils the depth of Messiah’s personhood, showing us that this child is no ordinary child. He is the fulfillment of heaven’s promise and the revelation of God’s nature.