Psalms 22:1 My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me? Why are You so far from helping Me, And from the words of My groaning?
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.
The prophetic parallels are nothing short of astonishing. “But I am a worm, and no man; a reproach of men, and despised by the people” (Psalm 22:6). “All those who see Me ridicule Me; they shoot out the lip, they shake the head, saying, ‘He trusted in the LORD, let Him rescue Him’” (Psalm 22:7–8). These taunts were hurled at Yeshua by mockers as He hung on the cross (Matthew 27:39–43). “They pierced My hands and My feet… they divide My garments among them, and for My clothing they cast lots” (Psalm 22:16-18). What David penned in anguish became literal history at the crucifixion. The Roman soldiers cast lots for Yeshua’s garments; His hands and feet were nailed to wood. Whether David knew it or not, he was painting a divine portrait of the crucified King.
But Psalm 22 does not end in torment. A holy reversal begins in verse 22: “I will declare Your name to My brethren; in the midst of the assembly I will praise You.” The writer of Hebrews affirms this as a prophecy of Yeshua, “who is not ashamed to call [us] brothers” (Hebrews 2:11-12). The suffering Servant rises in victory! He praises God in the congregation, shares His triumph with His people, and destroys the power of death. “All the ends of the world shall remember and turn to the LORD… for the kingdom is the LORD’s, and He rules over the nations” (Psalm 22:.27–28). The cross gave way to the crown; the Lamb became the reigning King!
And when Yeshua said, “It is finished” (John 19:30), He echoed Psalm 22:31: “They will come and declare His righteousness to a people who will be born, that He has done this.” In Hebrew, it can be rendered: “He has accomplished it.” The prophecy ends not in defeat, but with the shout of finality. Yeshua didn’t die a victim—He died a Victor. Every line of Psalm 22 came to life, and every drop of blood was part of a divine transaction. The Messiah was pierced, but He was also raised, and He will reign forever.
Let this truth grip your soul: what God begins in suffering, He finishes in glory. The cross was not the end of Yeshua’s story—and it is not the end of yours. You may feel forsaken, but you are not forgotten. He was pierced, so you could be healed. He was vindicated, so you too shall be raised in victory. The grave has no claim. The mockers have no power. The darkness has no dominion. Rise up in faith and declare with boldness to the next generation: He has done it!
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]
Yesterday, in our devotional I spoke of the two rains in Israel, the early rain and the latter rain. The prophet Joel speaks prophetically of these two rainy seasons in connection with the outpouring of God's spirit.
For much of the year, Israel receives little to no rain. The early rains ( "Yoreh") begin at the time of the Fall Feasts, September-October, and the "Latter Rain (“Malkosh”) concludes the rainy season around the time of the Spring festival of Passover.
En Gedi is a nature reserve about 40 minutes from our home. Surrounded by dry, barren, rocky ground, except to the east where the Dead Sea lies, it is an oasis, fed year round by springs of fresh water, and home to some of the most unique wild and botanical life in the world.
A father asked his son to carry a letter from their camp to the village. He pointed out a trail over which the lad had never gone before. “All right Dad, but I don’t see how that path will ever reach the town,” said the boy. “Well son, I'll tell you how. Do you see that big tree down the path?” asked the father. “Oh, yes, I see that far.” “Well, when you get there by the tree, you’ll see the trail a little farther ahead -- and farther down you'll see another big tree -- and when you reach that one you'll be closer and so on until you get within sight of the houses of the village.”
Yesterday was a big day for us, but especially for baby Obi. He was circumcised in the presence of our friends and family (many of them not believers) at our congregation in Tel Aviv. We had the chance to share about the false report we got concerning Obi's health and how the doctors told us to abort him early on. I tied in the faith that Abraham must have had, especially concerning circumcision. There may not have been a dry eye in the house. Thank you, God!
What a week we've been having! We're getting ready to fly to the States for a much needed time, to see our families and to share what's going on here in the Land. Along with all the hustle and bustle of packing, running loads of errands and training a new volunteer, we just got word that the airport employees have begun a strike and customers have not been able to get on their flights all day. Not only that, we've been having computer problems galore! As the saying goes -- when it rains it pours!
Many times, our unbelieving family and coworkers -- society in general, can make us feel small and inferior -- like second class citizens -- because we are Christians. Unfortunately, somewhere along the line, somehow, we begin to believe it! We become what I like to call "mopey Christians," just moping around, keeping our faith hidden under a bushel, feeling afraid to say a word about Jesus, in fear that we might offend someone! And that's precisely what the enemy wants us to feel!