Draw from the well that never runs dry!

John 7:38 Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, ‘Out of his heart will flow rivers of living water.

Laodicea was an idyllic city except for its lack of a water supply. It depended on water from an external source, the city of Hierapolis was located six miles to the north, the site of mineral hot springs which were used for medicinal purposes. These steaming hot waters were piped to Laodicea, arriving there… lukewarm, hence the metaphor in Yeshua’s warning to the Laodicean church.

Laodicea’s lack of a water supply also rendered the city vulnerable to siege. Potential enemies were, therefore, placated, accommodated, negotiated with, or pleaded to compromise, as the city’s leaders were desperate to avoid open conflict.

A wealthy, pleasure-loving, vulnerable, easily compromised city seems to have produced a congregation of similar character.

This combination of features makes it difficult to determine which one contributed most to the miserable spirituality of the Laodicean church. There seems to have been little true, living faith there, much less any demonstration of the power or holiness of God. Rather, the flesh ruled in Laodicea.

Laodicea’s lack of its own water supply, however, might have been a constant reminder of a promise Yeshua (Jesus) gave to all who are thirsty: “If any man thirst, let him come to me and drink. He that believeth on me, as the scripture hath said, out of his belly shall flow rivers of living water;” [John 7:37-38].

Laodicea’s lack of water was a living natural metaphor that every Laodicean could have benefitted from, if it was rightly apprehended. The deficiency of water might have reminded them of a deeper need, and the Lord’s offer to fulfill it most wonderfully. Remembering the Laodicean church we may all become aware of our own desperate thirst and also, receive HIs promise… rivers of living (Holy Spirit) water!

Copyright 1999-2025 Worthy Devotions. This devotional was originally published on Worthy Devotions and was reproduced with permission.

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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.

Last night marked the beginning of Shavuot–a feast that many Christians recognize as Pentecost, the day the Holy Spirit was poured out in Acts 2. But the roots of Shavuot stretch back much further. Long before that upper room encounter–about 1,500 years earlier–Shavuot was the day God gave the law to Moses on Mount Sinai, writing His commandments on tablets of stone.

In a world trembling with uncertainty–political unrest, economic turmoil, natural disasters–God is speaking again. Not in whispers, but with the shaking that reorders lives, redefines kingdoms, and removes everything that cannot stand in the presence of His glory. He is preparing us for a kingdom that cannot be moved. But in the midst of the shaking, there is rest — a deep, unshakable rest reserved for the people of God. Not rest as the world gives — temporary relief or distraction — but the kind that anchors the soul in the storm, the kind that is rooted in Yeshua (Jesus), our rest.

Just as a bird needs both wings to fly, a victorious life requires both faith and obedience. In Joshua, God calls Joshua to lead Israel into the Promised Land, not just with bold confidence but with complete dependence on His Word. Faith believes what God says; obedience acts upon it. One without the other stalls the journey. This moment wasn’t just about crossing into the promise land — it was about stepping into covenant reality, where trust in God’s promise was matched by surrender to God’s command.