1 Kings 19:15 And the LORD said to him, “Go, return on your way to the wilderness of Damascus. And when you arrive, you shall anoint Hazael to be king over Syria.
Elijah had just come through one of the most intense seasons of his life. He had called down fire from heaven on Mount Carmel, seen the prophets of Baal defeated, and yet found himself running in fear from Jezebel, exhausted and discouraged. In the cave at Horeb, he cried out, believing he was alone and that all was lost. But it was there—in the still small voice—that God revealed His presence and His plan.
And then came a surprising command: “Go, return.” Elijah was to leave the place of hiding, the place of despair, and return to the world, back into the midst of God’s unfolding plan. There was still work to do. Elijah was called not just to prophesy, but also to anoint, to prepare the way for new leaders, and to participate in God’s sovereign purposes that extended far beyond his lifetime or understanding.
The instruction to anoint Hazael as king over Syria reminds us that God is at work in ways that cross borders, kingdoms, and expectations. Even in foreign lands, even through leaders who did not know Him, God was orchestrating His justice and mercy. Elijah’s mission was part of a greater tapestry—a plan that God was weaving through history.
Even in the Old Testament, God was at work creating the paths for the greater work of the Kingdom. His dealings with kings and nations, as well as His raising up and tearing down of rulers, were never random or isolated events—they were all threads in the unfolding story of redemption.
His plan works to bring forth the salvation that would ultimately come through Yeshua (Jesus), redeeming people from every nation, tribe, and tongue. Elijah’s task, though it seemed small or even puzzling at the time, was part of preparing the world for God’s greater purposes. So let us lift our eyes beyond our immediate circumstances. Grab hold of the grand plan and understand the grand framework of His workings. Trust that your obedience, like Elijah’s, fits into a design that is far bigger than you can imagine — a design that leads to His glory and the redemption of the world.
However, we can sometimes feel, like Elijah, defeated or isolated. We may think our role is finished or our strength is gone. But God says: Return. Get up. Keep going. I still have a purpose for you. His plans stretch beyond our sight, and our obedience — no matter how weary we feel — places us back in the flow of His divine will.
Is there a place where God is calling you to return — to reengage with His purpose despite discouragement, weariness, or fear? Like Elijah, you may feel alone or that your work has no lasting impact. But the same God who spoke through the still small voice calls you now: Go, return. His plan is far greater than your understanding, weaving your obedience into the tapestry of His Kingdom purposes. What you do today may set in motion blessings and victories that you will never fully see on this side of eternity. So trust Him, step forward, and embrace your part in His unfolding story of redemption!
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[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.