Jonah 3:1-2 Now the word of the Lord came to Jonah the second time, saying, “Arise, go to Nineveh, that great city, and preach to it the message that I tell you.”
1 Corinthians 13:1-2 Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I have become sounding brass or a clanging cymbal. And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing.
When the Lord gave Jonah a second chance, He didn’t change His mind about the prophet’s destination. He didn’t lighten the load or change the burden Jonah was destined to carry. There was no negotiation with Jonah where the Lord expressed understanding about his reluctance to go to Nineveh. God didn’t concede to send him to Tarshish just because he’d been heading in that direction anyway. Jonah’s disobedience and repentance produced a clear and simple result: a second chance to do what he should have done the first time.
But it was not just for Nineveh’s sake. God cared for Jonah, just as He cared for Nineveh. If His concern was only about Nineveh, the Lord could have sent someone else for the task. But He definitely wanted Jonah to go, because He wanted to change and to soften the prophet’s heart; to make him more like Himself…
Jonah’s identity and calling as a prophet by no means meant that God was finished shaping him. You may have a significant calling on your life; a “prophetic” or “pastoral” role, known as a leader, a man or woman of God. You may know His will, and His word. You may even have some level of intimacy with Him….but all this could also be a basis for presumption, self-righteousness, pride, distance from those less holy than you, and maybe even an unsuspected level of disobedience bordering on rebellion. Something profoundly important can be missing from your character…
Jonah’s experience is an excellent example of the Lord’s desire to transform His faithful saints. The apostle Paul speaks in 1 Corinthians 13 of a “more excellent way”. The preceding chapter, 1 Corinthians 12, is all about spiritual gifts; and Jonah was certainly gifted as a prophet. But what he lacked was of such great concern to God that He was willing to put Jonah into the most dire circumstances imaginable; because what Jonah lacked was a most essential characteristic of God’s nature, the love we call “agape”….. the “love” which God Himself is.
Copyright 1999-2025 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]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.
The cry that shattered the stillness of Golgotha—“My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?” (Psalm 22:1; Matthew 27:46)—was not a random cry of despair, but the deliberate voice of Yeshua pointing to Scripture. As He hung on the tree, bearing the sin of the world, He invoked the ancient words of David—not only identifying Himself as the righteous sufferer, but signaling that Psalm 22 was unfolding before their very eyes. In that moment, heaven and earth bore witness to a divine mystery: the Holy One, seemingly abandoned, was fulfilling a prophecy written a millennium earlier. Yeshua did not merely suffer—He fulfilled every word, every shadow, every stroke of divine prophecy.