James 5:17 Elijah was a man with a nature like ours, and he prayed earnestly that it would not rain; and it did not rain on the land for three years and six months.
As we continue our journey through the life of Elijah, let us take heart in this: Elijah was a man just like us. He was not born with heroic strength or unshakable resolve. He knew weakness, fear, and moments of failure—the same struggles we face. And yet, this one man, by faith, stood alone against a tide of sin and idolatry. By faith, he turned a nation back to God.
This is what makes Elijah’s story so captivating. He did not rely on some hidden, mystical power that is beyond our reach. Nor was he made of stronger stuff than the rest of us. If that were true, his story would discourage us — a model we could never follow, an ideal forever beyond our grasp. But no! Elijah was, in himself, a man just like us. It was faith in God that made him a pillar of strength, a torch that burned brightly for truth. And the same faith is available to you and me today.
All power belongs to God, and He longs to pour His Resurrection power in and through us. The Holy Spirit channels that power into our lives in proportion to our faith and our readiness to receive it. Oh, that we would have hearts as open as Elijah’s—willing to be filled, willing to believe, willing to act!
But know this: before Elijah stood in boldness on Mount Carmel, he first had to be shaped by God at Cherith and refined at Zarephath. So it will be for us. God invites us into His school of faith — a place where our trust is deepened, our self-reliance is broken, and His strength is made perfect in our weakness. Only then can we be ready to do great exploits for God and truth.
Let Elijah’s life remind us that God is not looking for heroes made of stronger clay — He is seeking men and women who simply believe. The same power that turned a nation back to God through Elijah is available to us today. We do not need greater strength; we need greater faith. We do not need more ability; we need more surrender. The God who worked through Elijah stands ready to work through you. Will you let Him? Let this be our prayer: “Lord, take my weakness and fill it with Your power. Shape me, teach me, and use me, that I may stand for You in this generation as Elijah did in his.”
Copyright 1999-2025 Worthy Devotions. This devotional was originally published on Worthy Devotions and was reproduced with permission.
How to display the above article within the Worthy Suite WordPress Plugin.
[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.