He makes intercession for us!

Hebrews 7:25-26 Consequently, he is able to save to the uttermost those who draw near to God through him, since he always lives to make intercession for them. For it was indeed fitting that we should have such a high priest, holy, innocent, unstained, separated from sinners, and exalted above the heavens.

Romans 8:26-27 Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words. And he who searches hearts knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God.

One of the most important aspects of prayer is understanding how God Himself is interceding for us in ways we cannot fathom or comprehend. While Yeshua’s (Jesus) atonement was completed on the cross 2000 years ago, His continuing work of intercession rests soundly on the basis of it. He now lives … to make intercession for us! As our Lord is the same yesterday, today and forever [Hebrews 13:8], He is “faithful and true” and will always intercede according to the Father’s will, both in personal, individual matters, and also as we take up battles in prayer for others, including every arena of spiritual warfare.

In this light, our opportunity in prayer is simply to “show up” for it. This can be a real relief for many, who might say or think, “I’d like to be more involved in prayer, but I just don’t know how or what to pray.” The passage in Romans 8, above, is such an encouragement. The Lord has already acknowledged our ignorance and helplessness in prayer, “For we do not know what to pray as we ought…”

But if we resolve to simply “show up” as His volunteers [Psalm 110:3], He will immediately “show up” to help us and to inspire and even interpret the prayers His Spirit in us prays, even with “groanings too deep for words”. You see, we don’t even need words to know how to pray.

Prayer may be the most multi-faceted spiritual activity, since it can find expression in virtually every realm of human existence. It is praise, counsel, cries for help, desperation, vindication, deep love, compassion, rescue, comfort, appreciation, gratitude, confession, sorrow, grief, groaning, intercession, intense joy, etc.etc.etc. There is and never will be a limit to the possibilities of prayer. This is why Paul unhesitatingly encourages believers to “pray without ceasing”.

Don’t worry about saying the “perfect prayer” or having the “perfect words” … just “show up” with your faith and resolution to commune with God’s Spirit in prayer. If you persevere in this, casting away every vain thought, determined to connect with Him, pour out your heart, express your cares and concerns, fight your battles, you’ll discover a depth of relationship with God which you’ve always longed for, and be piling up treasure with and for Yeshua.

Copyright 1999-2025 Worthy Devotions. This devotional was originally published on Worthy Devotions and was reproduced with permission.

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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.

King David wrote these words generations before the empty tomb shook the foundations of death. At first glance, Psalm 16 reads like a personal prayer of trust — a yearning for security and closeness with God. But beneath the surface, the Spirit was revealing something deeper, something eternal: a promise not just for David, but for all of us.