Luke 17:15,16 And one of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, and with a loud voice glorified God And fell down on his face at his feet, giving him thanks: and he was a Samaritan.
In ancient times, lepers were social outcasts because of their highly contagious disease. In this passage, ten lepers came to Jesus begging for mercy and He graciously healed them.
Can you imagine? These lepers had an awful disease. Their bodies were slowly deteriorating — and worse, they were shunned from their friends and family and forced to live in a community of only those who were too withering away. Suddenly merciful Jesus comes along and “poof!” the sickness leaves them! How life changing! These people must have been overjoyed! Now they could go back to their families, their homes, their communities and live normal lives!
But as I reread this story today something struck me. Only one of them returned to thank the Lord! But how often do we do the same? We get so focused on our blessing and forget about the One who gave it!
Just as the Samaritan returned to Jesus to thank and worship Him who had redeemed his life, we too must thank God — for every good and perfect gift comes from Him and He deserves all the honor and the glory! And as a matter of fact, one of the cornerstones of effective prayer is entering His gates with thanksgiving and praise. Let’s start thanking God for all His goodness toward us!
It’s easy to get caught up in the blessing — God has given us so much! But let’s be sure that we make daily habit of thanking God first!
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[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]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.
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.