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.
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]When God spoke to Abram, the command was clear yet profoundly personal. The Hebrew phrase lech lecha carries a dual meaning: “go forth” and “go for yourself.” This journey wasn’t just a physical relocation; it was a spiritual pilgrimage—a call to walk out God’s will and to walk into his divine inheritance. Abram’s journey was not merely about distance but about destiny.
In the stillness of a desert night, surrounded by cut offerings and the lingering scent of sacrifice, Abram beheld something utterly sacred — God Himself, in the form of a smoking oven and a burning torch, passing between the pieces of a covenant. It was not Abram who walked through the blood-soaked path. It was God alone. And that changes everything.
Tonight we’ll participate in the Independence Day celebration in Israel — and what a party! — shows, fireworks, music, dancing, everything under the sun!
Yesterday, Israel observed Yom HaShoah—Holocaust Remembrance Day—honoring the memory of the six million Jews who perished. Tragically, a recent poll reveals that nearly half of Israelis fear the possibility of another Holocaust. In light of this sobering reality, I want to share a powerful story of one remarkable woman who rescued 2,500 Jewish children from the ghettos during World War II.
One night a house caught fire and a young boy was forced to flee flames by jumping to the ground from the roof. His father stood on the ground below with outstretched arms, calling to his son, “Jump! I’ll catch you.” But the boy was afraid — he couldn’t see his father — all he could see was flame, smoke, and blackness. He was afraid. Still, his father kept yelling: “Jump son! I will catch you!” But the boy refused, crying, “Daddy, I can’t see you!” His father replied, “It’s ok son — I can see you — and that’s all that matters!”
After forty years of wandering in the wilderness, Israel finally crossed into the Promised Land—on the 10th day of Nissan, the very day they had been commanded to choose their Passover lamb [Exodus 12:3 , Joshua 4:19]. They couldn’t enter into their inheritance until a lamb was chosen—a powerful foreshadowing of the more excellent Lamb to come, in preparation for the Passover [Joshua 5:10], they were about to observe at Gilgal.
In the days of Yeshua (Jesus), the cross was an instrument of death, and crucifixion, a horrible method of torture. Over the next 200 years, in light of the Lord’s resurrection, the cross became identified with Christian faith and was transformed into a symbol of life and hope. Yeshua was able to turn it upside down, transforming an instrument of death into a symbol of life.