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]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.