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!
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]This evening will begin the Biblical feast of Yom Kippur. Yom Kippur, which literally means Day of Coverings, can be a day of deep reflection on what the Lord has done for us. As Yeshua (Jesus) died on the cross 2000 years ago, the Gospel describes how the veil in the Temple was torn in two. This profound spiritual event reveals that the Lord gave all whose sins are covered by His blood access to the Holy of Holies, as He had become our High Priest in addition to being, Himself, the perfect sacrifice for sin.
As we celebrated Yom Teruah (Feast of Trumpets) and are in the midst of “Yamin Noraim” or the days of awe, the days between the Feast of Trumpets and Yom Kippur, it is the season of repentance.
This is the season that the shofar (rams horn) is blown to heed the call of warning to repent from our sins and be clean. The shofar’s unique sounding blast is a wake-up call to all who will hear.
As we find ourselves in the midst of the Yamim Noraim (Days of Awe), our hearts are centered this week on repentance as we prepare for Yom Kippur, which is approaching this Friday. In this spirit, I want to share something I discovered while studying the Jewish roots of many of Yeshua’s (Jesus’) parables. I came across an insightful teaching from a Jewish Rabbi, which I believe holds a valuable lesson for us today.
After our very small wedding in Jerusalem, my wife and I planned to have the big ceremony she’d always dreamed of, in Havre De Grace, Maryland. Rivka had it planned it to the tee. It was an outdoor wedding next to the longest standing lighthouse on the east coast. We were going to wow our guests with an entrance by way of sailboat. Ten dancers with candles in glasses were to proceed my beautiful bride as I awaited her under our hand-crafted chuppa, lit by the sunset on the bay.
Between Rosh HaShannah and Yom Kippur are ten days. These days are known as “Yamim Noraim”, “the Days of Awe” — or also translated, the “Awesome days”. In Judaism it has been long believed that these days seal your fate for the upcoming year — and also allude to your final destiny, concerning whether your name continues to be written in the Book of Life.
One of the major themes of Rosh Hashana is called Akedat Yitzchak, which means the Binding of Isaac. According to Jewish tradition, God told Abraham that the ram’s horn – otherwise known as a shofar – should be blown on Rosh Hashana to remind people of the sacrifice that God provided Himself when Abraham was about to offer Isaac on Mount Moriah.
The concept of ownership often influences how one can view the world, but if we recognize the truth that our time here is short and we can’t take anything with us, it will change our perspective. We are simply stewards of what has been entrusted to us. I’ve been running Worthy and its sites for 25 years, and I’ve never thought I was an owner but rather a steward of a ministry.