Luke 17:32 Remember Lot’s wife.
When Yeshua (Jesus) was describing the societal atmosphere of His return, he said these peculiar words … “Remember Lot’s Wife.” It was a warning … especially to the generation of believers just before His return.
In Genesis 19, we read of God’s destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah and specifically of how Lot’s wife turned to look at the destruction and was turned into a pillar of salt. [Genesis 19:26]
She turned around … and the warning to us is … don’t look back!
This past Tuesday, the United States witnessed a historic election, with Donald Trump winning the presidential race by a landslide. He launched his political career with the slogan, “Make America Great Again!”
This powerful slogan, reminding many Americans of the nation’s dramatic decline since their youth, inspired them to vote in hope of witnessing a restoration of former glory. For some, this was a nostalgic longing; for others, a passion for something that seemed almost irretrievably lost. However one recalls or defines it, America’s greatness does seem to be irrevocably fading, and our view is that looking back and longing for its recovery is looking in the wrong direction.
While some call this nation modern “Babylon” or even “Sodom,” what we see is a nation of paradox, full of tremendous blessings and, sadly, real wickedness. But however you view her, we believe it is unwise and even dangerous to look back to America’s past in hope of that kind of restoration. Since the “Days of Noah” are again upon us, we’re not expecting or focused on political solutions but looking toward the Kingdom that is soon coming!
When I worked for the Christian Coalition, I began to realize that the real issues America faces could not be remedied by politics. Political realities simply reflect a nation’s and its people’s internal moral and cultural climate. In their drive for power, most politicians are simply responding to or manipulating the current passions of the populace. Laws can be changed, but they will reflect the mores of the people, shaped by media, music, art, and culture. Those influences reveal a nation’s true soul. While some leaders are morally superior to others and may seem to offer hope, the real problems which plague society are internal and reflect the deeply rooted sin in human nature. The Gospel of Yeshua, the Messiah (Jesus Christ), is the only path and hope for any degree of national restoration. Anyone who has studied revivals can see this.
So nostalgically looking at the past with a view toward political transformation might not turn you into a pillar of salt but may seriously deflect us from the real hope and task of transformation: the Gospel, which points to the coming Kingdom and the coming King. Any reclamation of greatness, individual or national, will depend utterly on the transforming power of the Messiah and the profound inner work of His Holy Spirit.
Let’s not look back as Lot’s wife did toward whatever the “good life” was in Sodom or America; [Luke 9:62]. Any “greatness” that’s worth regaining will come from looking UP, not back! Our calling is to make disciples, anticipating the coming Kingdom where politics will not be “as usual” but everlasting righteousness in the presence of our King Yeshua.
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These verses capture one of the most profound Messianic truths in all of Scripture. What man cast aside, God exalted. What the builders saw as flawed and unfit, God chose as the foundation of His eternal plan. Yeshua (Jesus), the rejected One, is the very cornerstone upon which salvation, identity, and destiny are built. This is more than a theological concept — it’s a divine reversal that reveals the heart of redemption. Rejection by man does not disqualify–it often qualifies you for God’s greatest purposes.
These verses are far more than ancient lyrics — they are a spiritual invitation. The psalmist doesn’t just admire the gate — he pleads for it to open. “Open to me the gates of righteousness…” This is the cry of a heart that longs for access to God, not by merit, but by mercy. In Hebrew thought, gates represent transition points — thresholds between the common and the holy, the outside and the inner court, the temporal and the eternal. These are not man-made doors — they are divine entrances into the presence and promises of the LORD.
As we continue our study in Psalm 118, I want to take a deep dive into verses 17-18, where the psalmist makes one of the boldest declarations in all of Scripture: “I shall not die, but live, and declare the works of the LORD.” This isn’t the voice of someone untouched by pain — it’s the cry of someone who has been through the fire and come out declaring God’s faithfulness. This statement is not a denial of suffering; it’s a defiance of death. It’s the resolve of a heart that’s been chastened, refined, and pressed, yet remains confident in the God who preserves life — not just for survival, but for purpose.
Over the past two devotionals, we heard the song of the redeemed and stood at the wells of salvation. We saw how strength, song, and salvation flow from Yeshua Himself — how the joy of drawing from His presence is not just a poetic promise but a lifeline for our day. Yet today, we stand at a prophetic threshold. Something has shifted. Something has broken open. We are not only being refreshed — we are being awakened and called.
Yesterday, we heard the anthem of the redeemed rise like a trumpet blast: “The LORD is my strength and song, and He has become my salvation.” We explored how this was more than personal — it was prophetic, Messianic, and generational. We saw Yeshua not only as our Deliverer but as the very embodiment of God’s strength, the melody of our praise, and the fulfillment of every promise. We stood in awe as tents of rejoicing rose in the midst of warfare, and households became sanctuaries of celebration. But today, we go deeper — we step to the well.
There’s a reason this verse resounds like a national anthem of the redeemed. It’s not just a personal declaration—it’s a generational cry that echoes back to Moses at the Red Sea (Exodus 15:2) and forward to the final deliverance of Israel. The Hebrew word for salvation—Yeshua—makes this verse unmistakably Messianic. It isn’t a vague deliverance. It is the revelation of Yeshua (Jesus), the Deliverer, who embodies strength, becomes our song, and stands as the fulfillment of God’s redemptive plan.
The cry that shattered the stillness of Golgotha—“My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?” (Psalm 22:1; Matthew 27:46)—was not a random cry of despair, but the deliberate voice of Yeshua pointing to Scripture. As He hung on the tree, bearing the sin of the world, He invoked the ancient words of David—not only identifying Himself as the righteous sufferer, but signaling that Psalm 22 was unfolding before their very eyes. In that moment, heaven and earth bore witness to a divine mystery: the Holy One, seemingly abandoned, was fulfilling a prophecy written a millennium earlier. Yeshua did not merely suffer—He fulfilled every word, every shadow, every stroke of divine prophecy.