Genesis 22:1 Now it came to pass after these things that God tested (Hebrew word len-a-sot, to try) Abraham, and said to him, “Abraham!” And he said, “Here I am.”
John 6:5-6 Then Jesus lifted up [His] eyes, and seeing a great multitude coming toward Him, He said to Philip, “Where shall we buy bread, that these may eat?” But this He said to test (Hebrew word, lenasot, to try) him, for He Himself knew what He would do.
James 1:2-4 My brethren, count it all joy when you fall into various trials (nisayon (noun form of lenasot)), knowing that the testing of your faith produces patience. But let patience have [its] perfect work, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking nothing.
The testing of Abraham’s faith was repeated by YHVH throughout the patriarch’s entire life. The tests grew greater as his life advanced, and through everyone, whether Abraham passed or not, YHVH proved Himself to be his friend over and over again. Every test or “trial” involved a serious challenge or threat in which Abraham had to trust that the LORD knew what He was doing, asking, or requiring, and that His goodness and faithfulness were unquestionably reliable.
This type of testing or trying of faith is displayed throughout the Scriptures. In an entirely different setting, Yeshua (Jesus) asked His disciple Philip a question, “Where shall we buy bread, that these may eat?” The purpose of the question was simply to try Philip’s faith. The Hebrew, “lenasot” “to try, or test”, in the Greek is “pi-ras-mos”, which carries an interesting connotation: “proving by experiment”.
James, the Lord’s brother, speaks of the “testing of our faith”, as well. Though we often think of this testing in negative terms, James exhorts us to “count it all joy”, never mind that it’s virtually certain there will be little pleasure in the experience of any trial. The fact is that trials function as experiments, and experiences, which serve to prove and improve our faith. In the Hebrew New Testament (Brit Chadasha) the word for “trial” is “ni-sa-yon”, which also happens to be the word for “experience” and “experiment”.
So the trials we experience are literally, experiments upon our faith. And while it is clear that God Himself does not tempt us, we also know that He allows our faith to be proven by experience, and experimentally verified. Faith is not based on experience; it is based on revelation from God. But it’s genuineness is tested by experience. And it ought to be growing through every trial, producing a deeper comprehension of God’s faithfulness.
Your faith is being proved to be genuine through testing and trial; experimentally and experientially, just as was the faith of Abraham, Philip, and every true saint of the Lord. For while faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen — it will be proven in, by, and through the very hard experiences and realities of your life. This is not accidental but very much in the plans and purposes of the Lord.
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[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]King David wrote these words generations before the empty tomb shook the foundations of death. At first glance, Psalm 16 reads like a personal prayer of trust — a yearning for security and closeness with God. But beneath the surface, the Spirit was revealing something deeper, something eternal: a promise not just for David, but for all of us.
The majestic Messianic prophecy of Isaiah 9 culminates in a powerful declaration: “The zeal of the Lord of hosts will perform this.” Not might. Not maybe. Not if we work hard enough. It will be done — because God Himself is passionate to see it through. The Hebrew word for “zeal” here is קִנְאָה (kin’ah), which also means jealousy or burning passion. This is not passive interest — it’s the fiery determination of the LORD of Hosts to establish His Kingdom. The same fiery zeal that struck Egypt with plagues—shattering the power of false gods, that parted the Red Sea and made a way where there was none, that birthed a nation from the womb of slavery, and that drove the Son of God to the cross at Calvary — is the very zeal that will fulfill every promise declared in Isaiah 9.
In a world weary from political upheaval, moral confusion, and fleeting peace, Isaiah offers us a vision of something profoundly different—an ever-increasing kingdom ruled by a King whose justice is not compromised, whose peace is not fleeting, and whose throne is eternally secure. The phrase “of the increase of His government and peace there will be no end” speaks not just of duration, but of expansion—a kingdom that doesn’t plateau, doesn’t weaken, and doesn’t shrink back in the face of darkness. Instead, it advances, multiplies, and transforms.
In the Hebraic understanding, a name isn’t just a label—it reveals essence, identity, and destiny. Isaiah doesn’t say these are merely descriptions of the Messiah; he says His Name shall be called — meaning this is who He is. When we declare these names, we are not offering poetic praise — we are calling upon real attributes of the living King. In just one verse, the prophet unveils the depth of Messiah’s personhood, showing us that this child is no ordinary child. He is the fulfillment of heaven’s promise and the revelation of God’s nature.
In a world wearied by the failures of men, Isaiah 9:6 offers a startling promise of hope and strength: “The government shall be upon His shoulder.” This is not the language of politics as we know it — it’s the language of divine dominion. The Hebrew word for “government” here is misrah (מִשְׂרָה), a word so unique it appears only in these two verses—Isaiah 9:6 and 9:7. Unlike more common Hebrew words for government — mamlachah or memshalah, misrah speaks of a rare and elevated rule—divinely ordained, gentle in character, and eternal in scope. This is a government not imposed, but carried. Not tyrannical, but righteous and restorative.
The prophet Isaiah begins with language so familiar that it’s often read too quickly. Yet within this brief phrase lies a depth of mystery and majesty that anchors the entire gospel. “For unto us a Child is born” speaks of an earthly event–Messiah’s humanity. He was born as all men are born, taking on flesh, entering a specific culture, time, and lineage. The Hebrew word for “born” (yalad) reinforces His full identification with us. This is the miracle of the incarnation: God wrapped in the vulnerability of a newborn child.
When the Lord called us to be His ambassadors, He didn’t merely give us a message — He gave us a lifestyle to embody it. An ambassador is not just a messenger, but a living representation of the Kingdom they serve. That means our behavior, words, and example all matter deeply.