1 John 5:4 For whatever is born of God overcomes the world. And this is the victory that has overcome the world — our faith.
In 2nd Samuel chapter 9, we read the story of King David and Mephibosheth. Mephibosheth was the son of Jonathan and the grandson of the first king of Israel, King Saul. After Jonathan’s death, David went forth to show kindness to Saul’s house. Mephibosheth had become lame at the young age of five — he had lived his entire life as a cripple. When David calls him forth, Mephibosheth replies “What is thy servant, that thou shouldest look upon such a dead dog as I am?” His identity was completely based on his disability when in fact, he was the grandson of a king! He had forgotten his royal lineage and was wallowing in self-pity. Yet David looked beyond his disability and recognizing who he was, offered him a place at the King’s table.
How much time do we spend wallowing in our own self-pity, groaning about things with which we struggle daily…so much so that it becomes who we are! The enemy would love nothing more than to keep us focused on our disabilities so that we are distracted from the calling of God on our lives. He wants us to have a “victim mentality”.
But beloved, let us be reminded today: in Yeshua (Jesus), we are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, sons and daughters of the Most High. The King of Glory has not only redeemed us—He has invited us to dine at His table. We are not castaways; we are co-heirs with Christ!
So let us rise with a victor’s mindset. Let us walk in the fullness of our calling, shake off the labels of the past, and take our rightful seat at the King’s table—confident in who we are in Him.
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]Over the past few years, some leaders who once inspired many have fallen into scandals that have brought harm and confusion to the body of Christ. In moments like these, it’s easy to feel disillusioned or lost, as if the work of God depends on human vessels who have failed us. But I’m reminded of how Elisha responded when Elijah was taken from him. His eyes were not on the departing servant but on the living God. “Where is the Lord God of Elijah?” he cried — not, “Where is Elijah?” That cry holds a lesson for us today: our hope and strength are not in human leaders, but in the God who works through them—and who remains faithful even when men falter.
The day before Israel launched Operation Rising Lion, Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu stood before the ancient stones of the Western Wall and placed a prayer in its crevices. He chose Numbers 23:24—a verse that declares a timeless truth: God calls Israel and His people everywhere to rise with strength, purpose, and courage, no matter what challenges they face.
When we read the Beatitudes, we catch a glimpse of Yeshua’s heart and the values that define His Kingdom. His words unveil the kind of life that God calls blessed—marked by humility, mercy, purity of heart, a hunger for righteousness, peacemaking, and faithful endurance in the face of suffering.
We often celebrate beginnings—new chapters, breakthroughs, divine appointments. But in God’s economy, every true beginning requires a holy crossing. Before the Hebrews could enter the Promised Land, they had to leave Egypt. Before they entered the Promised Land, they had to cross over the Red Sea. And before Abraham could receive God’s promises, he had to obey a single command: “Leave.”
When the children of Israel wandered in the wilderness for forty years, they traversed a rugged, unpredictable landscape — mile after mile of mountains, valleys, rocks, and desert sands — as they journeyed from slavery in Egypt to the Promised Land.
For many, God remains a theory—an idea borrowed from tradition, deduced from the cosmos, or tucked quietly into the corners of a creed. He is believed in from afar, but is rarely encountered. Even among believers, it’s not uncommon to live with a distant reverence for God while lacking a vibrant, personal communion with Him.
God has always longed for intimacy with us. He formed us for Himself–to walk with Him, to know Him, to delight in His Presence. This is the very heartbeat of creation: relationship, not religion. Yet sin drove a wedge between us. A veil was drawn, shutting out the light of His face and placing distance where there was once communion.