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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Psalm 98 is a victory psalm — a call to lift up a “new song” because the Z’roah, the holy arm of the LORD, has brought decisive triumph. In Hebrew thought, the arm is the active extension of the will, the power that brings intention into reality. To call it “holy” is to declare that it is set apart, dedicated fully to God’s purpose, incapable of corruption. The psalmist celebrates that salvation is not a hidden act, but an open demonstration — God’s righteousness revealed before the eyes of the nations.
This is one of the most intimate revelations of the Z’roah in Scripture. God looks for a human intercessor but finds none. No man can bridge the gap. So His own Arm accomplishes the work. In Hebrew, v’tosha lo zeroa — “His arm saved for Him” — reveals that salvation originates from within God Himself, not from any outside help. Isaiah adds that His own righteousness sustained Him — it upheld His resolve to save — and His fury upheld Him, a holy passion that would not rest until justice was accomplished.
To “bare” the arm means to roll up the sleeve and reveal the full readiness for action. In Isaiah’s prophecy, this is a global unveiling — no longer hidden, the Z’roah is on display for all nations to witness. This speaks directly of Yeshua’s (Jesus’) public ministry and, ultimately, His crucifixion.
The Hebrew phrase “z’roah moshel lo” paints the picture of an arm that governs with both strength and care. The same Z’roah that brought Israel out of Egypt in power now establishes righteous order and sustains His people in love. Deliverance without rulership is incomplete; the Redeemer becomes the King — and the King rules as a Shepherd. The Arm does not act independently but moves in perfect submission to the Head, carrying out the will of the Father.
I’ll be doing a series on the “Arm of God,” beginning with this first message — The Arm that Redeems. The Hebrew Z’roah (זְרוֹעַ) means “arm” or “strength,” and in ancient Hebrew culture, the arm symbolizes active power in motion — strength applied for a purpose. In the Exodus account, God tells Moses He will redeem Israel “with an outstretched arm” (bizroa netuyah). This was not poetic metaphor; it was God’s declaration of decisive intervention. The Z’roah is the covenant-keeping arm that moves history, enforces promises, and breaks oppression. Every Pesach (Passover), during the seder — the festive meal of remembrance — the roasted lamb shank bone, the Z’roah, rests on the plate as a silent yet powerful witness to God’s mighty deliverance.
These closing verses of Psalm 118 begin with an unshakable proclamation: “The LORD is God.” In Hebrew, it’s emphatic — YHVH, He is El — the declaration that all authority, holiness, and sovereignty belong to Him alone. Yet this is not just a statement of who He is — it’s a testimony of what He has done: “He has made His light to shine upon us.” This light is more than the glow of the sun — it is the revelation of His presence, the warmth of His favor, and the piercing truth that chases away every shadow. His light doesn’t simply illuminate — it transforms.
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.