Isaiah 43:18-19 Do not remember the former things, Nor consider the things of old. Behold, I will do a new thing, Now it shall spring forth; Shall you not know it? I will even make a road in the wilderness And rivers in the desert.
As we celebrated the High Holy days of Rosh Hashanah or Yom Turah (Feast of Trumpets) this past Monday, we entered into a new season. Rosh Hashanah traditionally marks the Jewish New Year. "Shanah" is a unique Hebrew word meaning "to repeat, revise, or go over again". As we begin the new year, with fall, then winter, spring, and summer, we remember the cyclical pattern of time in God's creation. The nature of life is to repeat itself -- to continue in a cycle, marked by Rosh HaShannah -- a New Year. Although time is moving in a direction toward a definite destiny determined by the Creator, it does so in cycles ... truly, "what goes around comes around".
However, "Shanah" does not only mean "to repeat" -- but also, "to change" ...
So, entering this new year, a fresh cycle, we may also grasp the opportunity to change, to do something radically new and different. New beginnings are a time for new choices, new experiences, new hopes, and dreams. Can we allow this season to inspire the desire for new experiences and initiatives in God? Can we choose to pray for, expect and act within the divine order of a new cycle ... break out of the "same old -- same old" and choose to believe in His power to do exceedingly abundantly more than we could ask or imagine? The new season beckons us to this...
If we believe that our Lord is really on top of things, if we believe that He can even redeem our mistakes, then we ought to be filled with expectation for change, great change in our lives, by His divine power to work in and through us. Entering this new season can inspire a choice in faith, to love and serve with greater devotion than ever, perhaps in ways that we have only dreamt of before. A new year is upon us. Let's make the choice for change -- He will "do a new thing."
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[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]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.
Just as a bird needs both wings to fly, a victorious life requires both faith and obedience. In Joshua, God calls Joshua to lead Israel into the Promised Land, not just with bold confidence but with complete dependence on His Word. Faith believes what God says; obedience acts upon it. One without the other stalls the journey. This moment wasn’t just about crossing into the promise land — it was about stepping into covenant reality, where trust in God’s promise was matched by surrender to God’s command.