Isaiah 40:31 But they that wait upon the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.
While walking through the forest one day, a farmer found a young eagle who had apparently fallen out of his nest. He took it home and put it in his barnyard with his chickens and there it stayed for years. It wasn't long before the little eagle learned to eat and behave like the chickens.
One day a naturalist passed by the farm and saw the eagle confined in the barnyard with the chickens. When he inquired about this strange sight, the farmer told the man his story. "Unfortunately," said the farmer, "the poor little guy just never learned to fly." "Still," the naturalist sighed, "he has the heart of an eagle and can surely be taught. Will you allow me to work with him?" The farmer agreed, but with much disbelief.
The naturalist picked up the eagle and lifted him toward the sky and said, "You belong to the sky and not to the earth. Stretch forth your wings and fly." The eagle, however, was confused. He did not know who he was, and seeing the chickens eating their food, he jumped down to be with them again. The naturalist took the bird to the roof of the house and urged him again, saying, "You are an eagle. Stretch forth your wings and fly." But the eagle was afraid and jumped down once again to be with his chicken friends. Finally the naturalist took the eagle out of the barnyard to a high mountain. There he held the king of the birds high above him and encouraged him again, saying, "You are an eagle. You belong to the sky. Stretch forth your wings and fly!" The eagle looked around, back towards the barnyard and then up to the sky. Slowly, he stretched his wings, and with a triumphant cry, he soared away into the heavens.
Somewhere along the line, we like this poor young eagle, were put in a lowly barn with the chickens of the world around us. We learned to live and eat from the ground and grew up believing that there was not much more to do than sit and cluck all day.
But the reality is that we are eagles! We were created to fly and even soar! God has great purpose for our lives! If we would only realize who we are in Him!
Let's remember who we are today and stop acting like chickens! We are the head and not the tail! We are Kings and Priests! We have great things to do for the Kingdom!
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[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.