Jonah 1:6 So the captain came to him, and said to him, “What do you mean, sleeper? Arise, call on your God; perhaps your God will consider us, so that we may not perish.”
At this point, the captain (who probably worshiped Baal and Yamm, god of the sea) has more faith than Jonah.
Frantic in the midst of impending catastrophe, he jolts Jonah back to life and intercession. They say there are no “foxhole atheists”; when great danger comes God somehow bursts into existence. But these sailors were polytheists, and desperation led them to implore the local god of every man in the boat for mercy and salvation. Even these idol worshipers knew that prayer is the only recourse in the hour of desperation.
It’s something to remember and apply in our day to day encounters with people. So many these days are dealing with serious and even desperate situations, while they’re waiting there at the checkout counter…and while they don’t much care to hear a sermon, they might really appreciate our prayers.
We’ve been in situations, with hardly a clue whom we were speaking with, and simply said, “Do you mind if I pray for you?” Suddenly eyes light up, “Yes, please do!” Prayer brings people back into direct relationship with God and reminds them of their dependence on Him, and whether we’re on a ship in a storm, or facing some other potential catastrophe, we all desperately need His grace and favor. And connecting with people this way is actually easier than you might think.
The times are coming, and are already here, when more and more people facing desperation may turn and cry to us, “Call on Your God to save us!” They may even wake us up from our spiritual slumber to do it. Rather than rubbing our eyes and groaning, “Duh, what?” we ought to be already awake, looking for them now.
Copyright 1999-2025 Worthy Devotions. This devotional was originally published on Worthy Devotions and was reproduced with permission.
How to display the above article within the Worthy Suite WordPress Plugin.
[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]
Psalm 98 is a victory psalm — a call to lift up a “new song” because the Z’roah, the holy arm of the LORD, has brought decisive triumph. In Hebrew thought, the arm is the active extension of the will, the power that brings intention into reality. To call it “holy” is to declare that it is set apart, dedicated fully to God’s purpose, incapable of corruption. The psalmist celebrates that salvation is not a hidden act, but an open demonstration — God’s righteousness revealed before the eyes of the nations.
This is one of the most intimate revelations of the Z’roah in Scripture. God looks for a human intercessor but finds none. No man can bridge the gap. So His own Arm accomplishes the work. In Hebrew, v’tosha lo zeroa — “His arm saved for Him” — reveals that salvation originates from within God Himself, not from any outside help. Isaiah adds that His own righteousness sustained Him — it upheld His resolve to save — and His fury upheld Him, a holy passion that would not rest until justice was accomplished.
To “bare” the arm means to roll up the sleeve and reveal the full readiness for action. In Isaiah’s prophecy, this is a global unveiling — no longer hidden, the Z’roah is on display for all nations to witness. This speaks directly of Yeshua’s (Jesus’) public ministry and, ultimately, His crucifixion.
The Hebrew phrase “z’roah moshel lo” paints the picture of an arm that governs with both strength and care. The same Z’roah that brought Israel out of Egypt in power now establishes righteous order and sustains His people in love. Deliverance without rulership is incomplete; the Redeemer becomes the King — and the King rules as a Shepherd. The Arm does not act independently but moves in perfect submission to the Head, carrying out the will of the Father.
I’ll be doing a series on the “Arm of God,” beginning with this first message — The Arm that Redeems. The Hebrew Z’roah (זְרוֹעַ) means “arm” or “strength,” and in ancient Hebrew culture, the arm symbolizes active power in motion — strength applied for a purpose. In the Exodus account, God tells Moses He will redeem Israel “with an outstretched arm” (bizroa netuyah). This was not poetic metaphor; it was God’s declaration of decisive intervention. The Z’roah is the covenant-keeping arm that moves history, enforces promises, and breaks oppression. Every Pesach (Passover), during the seder — the festive meal of remembrance — the roasted lamb shank bone, the Z’roah, rests on the plate as a silent yet powerful witness to God’s mighty deliverance.
These closing verses of Psalm 118 begin with an unshakable proclamation: “The LORD is God.” In Hebrew, it’s emphatic — YHVH, He is El — the declaration that all authority, holiness, and sovereignty belong to Him alone. Yet this is not just a statement of who He is — it’s a testimony of what He has done: “He has made His light to shine upon us.” This light is more than the glow of the sun — it is the revelation of His presence, the warmth of His favor, and the piercing truth that chases away every shadow. His light doesn’t simply illuminate — it transforms.
Psalm 118:24 is not merely about enjoying a new day — it is a prophetic declaration of a divinely appointed moment. “This is the day the LORD has made” speaks of a kairos moment in history when heaven and earth converge. It points to the day when Messiah would be revealed, salvation would walk into Jerusalem, and God’s covenant plan would take a dramatic step forward. This is not the casual celebration of a sunrise — it is the joyful response to God’s redemptive unfolding.