Psalms 118:14-16 The LORD is my strength and my song; he has become my salvation. 15 Glad songs of salvation are in the tents of the righteous: “The right hand of the LORD does valiantly, 16 the right hand of the LORD exalts, the right hand of the LORD does valiantly!”
Isaiah 12:2-3 “Behold, God is my salvation; I will trust, and will not be afraid; for the LORD GOD is my strength and my song, and he has become my salvation.” 3 With joy you will draw water from the wells of salvation.
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.
Isaiah 12 picks up where Psalm 118 leaves off, repeating that same triumphant cry: “the LORD, is my strength and song; He also has become my salvation.” But then it adds something profoundly spiritual: “Therefore with joy you will draw water from the wells of salvation.” These wells are not shallow. They were dug in eternity past and opened at the cross. And the joy we draw with is not emotional hype — it is the deep gladness of a soul that knows the Source. The same Yeshua who brings salvation now invites you to draw daily from His endless supply.
During Sukkot, the Feast of Tabernacles, the priests would pour water from the Pool of Siloam upon the altar with joy and dancing. Psalm 118:14 was sung aloud as crowds celebrated God’s provision. And on the final day of that feast — Hoshana Rabbah — Yeshua Himself stood in the Temple and declared, “If anyone thirsts, let him come to Me and drink!” (John 7:37). It was more than a dramatic moment — it was a fulfillment. He is the salvation Isaiah had prophesied, and Psalm 118 had celebrated.
So now, the call is clear. You’re not just meant to survive in the wilderness — you’re meant to draw joyfully. You’re not called to wander parched — you’re called to drink deeply. The same strength that stood firm yesterday, the same song that rose from battle, is now calling you to a well that never runs dry. This is a lifestyle of praise and drawing. Rejoicing isn’t a response to circumstances — it’s a result of connection. And when you drink from Yeshua, living waters will flow not just into you but from you (John 7:38).
Now that the prophetic anthem has taken root—“The Lord is my strength and my song”—it’s time to go deeper. It’s time to come to the well. Don’t settle for yesterday’s echo—encounter the living source today. Let joy awaken as you draw from the depths of His salvation. Stir the waters of your spirit. Lift your voice and proclaim with courage: “Behold, God is my salvation!”
If you’re weary — draw. If you’re parched — draw. If you’re down and out –draw. Yeshua is not only the melody of your past victory — He is the fountain of your present power. Drink until rivers surge from within. Praise until walls tremble. Rejoice until the heavens break open over your home. Your Redeemer lives—and the ancient wells are open. Come thirsty… and leave overflowing.
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[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]In Matthew 21, Yeshua (Jesus) approached a fig tree full of leaves but found no fruit. He cursed it, and it withered. This dramatic act was not about the tree—it was about Israel. The fig tree had the appearance of life, but it lacked the substance of transformation. It was a warning to a nation full of religion but void of repentance. The tree became a symbol of spiritual barrenness, of form without fruit.
The parable of the fig tree is not just a message to observers — it’s a summons to the faithful. The fig tree puts out its leaves first, then comes the fruit. Spiritually, that’s a call to live in readiness even before the final harvest arrives. Yeshua (Jesus) tells His disciples, “Be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an hour you do not expect” (Matthew 24:44).
Among all fruit-bearing trees, the fig tree is uniquely prophetic–because it is one of the few that produces two harvests in a single growing season. First comes the early crop in spring, known in Scripture as the “first ripe fig” (Isaiah 28:4), and then a second, more abundant harvest in late summer or early fall. This uncommon pattern is a living picture of prophecy woven into the fabric of creation.
Yeshua (Jesus) didn’t merely offer a suggestion–He issued a command: “Learn the parable.” In Greek, the word manthano (μανθάνω) implies disciplined learning, not casual observation. In Hebraic thought, to “learn” a parable means to press into its hidden meaning until it transforms how you live. The fig tree is not just a poetic image–it’s a prophetic mandate. And Yeshua expected His disciples, including us, to understand it deeply.
Yeshua (Jesus) used the fig tree—a familiar symbol in Israel’s botanical and prophetic world—as a teaching tool to awaken spiritual discernment. The fig tree, known for losing all its leaves in winter and budding again in spring, became a natural signpost to mark the changing seasons. In the same way, Jesus gave His disciples prophetic markers to discern a coming shift: wars, famines, false messiahs, persecution, lawlessness, and the global preaching of the gospel (Matthew 24:4–14).
On July 4th, America remembers a bold declaration — a break from tyranny, a longing for a better government, and the birth of a nation built on liberty. The Founders risked everything to establish a new way of life, one where freedom could flourish. Their cry was clear: “We will no longer be ruled by kings who oppress–we will be governed by laws that reflect liberty and justice.”
In a world full of uncertainty, this verse from Romans stands like a lighthouse in the storm: “The God of hope…” Not just the God who gives hope, but the very source of it. When everything around us seems shaken — economies falter, nations rage, relationships strain — it is the God of hope who remains unshaken and unchanging.