1 Kings 18:36-39 And at the time of the offering of the oblation, Elijah the prophet came near and said, “O LORD, God of Abraham, Isaac, and Israel, let it be known this day that you are God in Israel, and that I am your servant, and that I have done all these things at your word. 37 Answer me, O LORD, answer me, that this people may know that you, O LORD, are God, and that you have turned their hearts back.” 38 Then the fire of the LORD fell and consumed the burnt offering and the wood and the stones and the dust, and licked up the water that was in the trench. 39 And when all the people saw it, they fell on their faces and said, “The LORD, he is God; the LORD, he is God.”
Every true move of revival begins where few look for it—at the hidden brook, in the quiet place of God’s pruning. Cherith (נַחַל כְּרִית) means to cut off, to separate, to covenant. Before Elijah could stand on Mount Carmel and call down fire, he had to be separated, set apart for God’s purposes.
Cherith was the place where God stripped away distractions, where Elijah learned to depend not on crowds or acclaim, but on the Lord’s daily provision. Like Elijah, God brings us to Cherith to prepare our hearts, to cut away what hinders His power, and to renew our covenant loyalty. Revival begins when God’s people allow Him to do this hidden work making us ready for His fire.
But Cherith is not the end of the journey. God calls His servants from the brook to Mount Carmel (הַר הַכַּרְמֶל)—the mount of decision, where revival breaks forth. Carmel, once a fruitful place, had become barren through compromise and Baal worship. Yet God chose that very place to send His fire. On Carmel, Elijah called for the fire — and God answered. The fire fell, not just for spectacle, but to burn away idolatry, to awaken a nation, and to turn hearts back to Himself: “Answer me, O Lord, answer me, so these people will know that You, O Lord, are God, and that You have turned their hearts back again.” (1 Kings 18:37). The fire of revival always falls where hearts are ready to return to God.
And the fire was not the end. Revival fire makes way for the rain. After the fire came the Geshem (גֶּשֶׁם)—the rain of restoration, the outpouring that brings life to dry ground. Elijah’s prayer brought the rain that broke the drought and healed the land. This is God’s pattern: first He sends the fire to purify; then comes the rain to restore. It is the same pattern we see in Yeshua (Jesus) — the judgment for sin at the Cross, then the outpouring of the Holy Spirit (Acts 2:16-19; Joel 2:28) to bring life, power, and true fruitfulness. Revival is the fire that prepares the way for God’s rain of blessing on a thirsty world.
So rise up, beloved! Don’t shrink back from Cherith’s pruning, don’t hesitate on Carmel’s heights, and don’t stop watching the skies for God’s rain. Now is the time to yield your heart fully—to be the one through whom His fire can fall and His rain can pour. Let your life be the spark that ignites a generation, the vessel God uses to awaken the dry bones of a nation. The God who answered Elijah with fire and rain is the same yesterday, today, and forever. He is ready to move again—are you ready to be part of His revival? Surrender now. Cry out now. The hour is at hand!
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[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]Psalm 118:24 is not merely about enjoying a new day — it is a prophetic declaration of a divinely appointed moment. “This is the day the LORD has made” speaks of a kairos moment in history when heaven and earth converge. It points to the day when Messiah would be revealed, salvation would walk into Jerusalem, and God’s covenant plan would take a dramatic step forward. This is not the casual celebration of a sunrise — it is the joyful response to God’s redemptive unfolding.
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.