Hebrews 10:19-22 Therefore, brothers, having boldness to enter into the Holy of Holies by the blood of Jesus, 20 by a new and living way which He has consecrated for us through the veil, that is to say, His flesh; 21 and having a High Priest over the house of God, 22 let us draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith, having our hearts sprinkled from an evil conscience and our bodies having been washed with pure water.
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.
But now, the veil has been torn.
When Yeshua (Jesus) died, the veil in the Temple that once separated the Holy Place from the Holy of Holies was ripped from top to bottom–heaven’s own declaration that the way into God’s intimate Presence had been opened. The blood of Yeshua didn’t merely forgive us; it opened a door. Not just to salvation, but to intimacy.
We are not invited to stand in the outer courts, content with distance and ritual. We are summoned into the very heart of the throne room. Into the Holiest. Into the place where God dwells in glory. Into a communion deeper than words, where His love fills every crevice of our being and His whisper becomes our life.
This is not a metaphor. It is a reality. The torn veil is not just a symbol–it is a passage. A blood-stained trail that leads into the very arms of the Father. And it calls for boldness. Not arrogance, but a confidence grounded in Yeshua’s finished work. His blood has made the way. There is nothing left to earn. Nothing left to prove. Only one thing is required: come.
Yet many remain outside–not because God holds us back, but because we have not yet surrendered our inner veils. Pride, fear, shame, self–these are type of veils that must be torn. But the Spirit is ready to do the tearing. He waits for our surrender. For the heart that says, “Whatever it takes, I want to know Him.” And when that veil is removed, the soul enters a realm not of theory but of encounter.
Intimacy with God is not a privilege for the spiritual elite—it is the birthright of every soul redeemed by the blood of Yeshua. To draw near is not striving for favor, but surrendering to love. The veil is no more. The way is open. And the Father waits — not with judgment, but with joy — to welcome you into the fullness of His embrace.
Copyright 1999-2026 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]
During World War II, a US marine was separated from his unit on a Pacific Island. The fighting had been intense, and in the smoke and the crossfire he had lost touch with his comrades. Alone in the jungle, he could hear enemy soldiers coming in his direction. Scrambling for cover, he found his way up a high ridge to several small caves in the rock. Quickly he crawled inside one of the caves.
The great evangelist and teacher Charles Spurgeon had a plaque on his bedroom with the words written on it, "I have chosen thee in the furnace of affliction."
The word for builder in Hebrew is “bo-neh”. It is also translated repairer. When our Messiah came 2000 years ago, He came to repair lives -- to do a complete restoration of all that is broken in this world.
J. Oswald Sanders, a Godly man and former director of Overseas Missionary Fellowship, once wrote about a position he desired. As he contemplated lobbying for the position, at one point, while walking through the city of Auckland, New Zealand, a verse of Scripture came to his mind, "Seekest thou great things for thyself? Seek them not!"
This scripture makes an astounding promise -- God ALWAYS leads us to triumph or victory! But can we ALWAYS count on this amazing word to be true?
A reader asked a pointed question, "How do we claim the promises of God?" Sometimes the most difficult questions are best answered by men of faith, in this case, by a man who made a lifestyle of claiming the promises of God. I learned the answer to this question early in my walk when I read the autobiography of George Mueller.
A friend sent us this story about a young lady named Sally and her experience in a recent seminary class, given by her teacher, Dr. Smith. Dr. Smith was known for his elaborate object lessons. This particular day, Sally walked into the class and knew they were in for a fun day.