Psalms 42:1-2 As the deer pants for the water brooks, So pants my soul for You, O God. 2 My soul thirsts for God, for the living God. When shall I come and appear before God?
Deuteronomy 10:20 You shall fear the LORD your God; you shall serve Him, and to Him you shall cling, and swear by His name.
Following Yeshua (Jesus) isn’t just about believing the right things or checking boxes. It’s about wanting to truly know God — to experience Him personally. And here’s the amazing part: even that desire starts with Him. God is the one who stirs our hearts and awakens our longing. If you find yourself hungry for more of Him, it’s because He’s already working in you.
Yeshua said, “No one can come to Me unless the Father draws him” (John 6:44). Even as we run after God, we’re being held by His hand (Psalm 63:8). It’s a mystery — but a beautiful one. He moves first, and we respond.
But we must respond. Faith isn’t passive. Like Moses, who dared to pray, “Show me Your glory” (Exodus 33:18), or Paul, who cried out, “That I may know Him” (Philippians 3:10), we are called to pursue God with a burning desire. Salvation isn’t the finish line — it’s the starting point of a lifelong pursuit.
In Hebraic thought, this pursuit is deeply connected to the Hebrew concept of דְּבֵקוּת (Devekut), which means clinging or cleaving to God.
Devekut isn’t just about obeying God; it’s about being near Him, staying close to His presence. It’s the soul’s longing to walk in daily communion with the living God. As it says in Deuteronomy 10:20, “You shall fear the LORD your God; you shall serve Him and cling to Him (וּבוֹ תִדְבָּק).”
Our pursuit of God is made possible through Yeshua the Messiah, who declared, “I am the way, the truth, and the life” (John 14:6). He is the living path into the Father’s presence, and through Him, the longing for devekut — deep, abiding closeness with God — is not fulfilled in a single moment, but in a lifelong, growing relationship.
Let’s never be satisfied with where we are. The saints of old weren’t content with surface-level faith — David cried out for God, and Paul gave up everything to know Him more. Why should our experience be any different? It’s time to strip away the clutter, silence the distractions, and abandon the “God and…” mentality. Let’s return to the simplicity of seeking Him alone. Even a single, honest word — “God” or “Love” — whispered from a longing heart can open the door to His presence.
This is the kingdom’s paradox of love: to have found God and still long for more of Him. Let that holy hunger define your faith. Let it drive you deeper, pull you closer, and draw you into the joy of knowing not just about Him, but knowing Him. In the end, you won’t just find peace — you’ll cling to the One your soul was made to love.
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[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]Over the past few years, some leaders who once inspired many have fallen into scandals that have brought harm and confusion to the body of Christ. In moments like these, it’s easy to feel disillusioned or lost, as if the work of God depends on human vessels who have failed us. But I’m reminded of how Elisha responded when Elijah was taken from him. His eyes were not on the departing servant but on the living God. “Where is the Lord God of Elijah?” he cried — not, “Where is Elijah?” That cry holds a lesson for us today: our hope and strength are not in human leaders, but in the God who works through them—and who remains faithful even when men falter.
The day before Israel launched Operation Rising Lion, Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu stood before the ancient stones of the Western Wall and placed a prayer in its crevices. He chose Numbers 23:24—a verse that declares a timeless truth: God calls Israel and His people everywhere to rise with strength, purpose, and courage, no matter what challenges they face.
When we read the Beatitudes, we catch a glimpse of Yeshua’s heart and the values that define His Kingdom. His words unveil the kind of life that God calls blessed—marked by humility, mercy, purity of heart, a hunger for righteousness, peacemaking, and faithful endurance in the face of suffering.
We often celebrate beginnings—new chapters, breakthroughs, divine appointments. But in God’s economy, every true beginning requires a holy crossing. Before the Hebrews could enter the Promised Land, they had to leave Egypt. Before they entered the Promised Land, they had to cross over the Red Sea. And before Abraham could receive God’s promises, he had to obey a single command: “Leave.”
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.