Nehemiah 8:10 Then he said to them, “Go your way, eat the fat, drink the sweet, and send portions to those for whom nothing is prepared; for this day is holy to our Lord. Do not sorrow, for the joy of the Lord is your strength.”
This verse in Nehemiah connects the observance of a Holy day with the joy of the Lord. Our identity as “saints” (literally, “holy ones”), called to be holy, means we are and ought to be set apart from the world. But does that mean a solemn and joyless life of boredom as some have been led to believe? I have heard statements like, “I’m miserable, but at least I’m holy!” No, to be simultaneously holy and miserable is “oxymoronic” (if I may coin an adjective). It contradicts the very Spirit of God!
The Lord has given us life and life abundantly; [John 10:10] that is a life full of love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, faith, meekness, and self-control. [Galatians 5:22-23] When someone truly sets himself/herself apart for God and His purposes, he/she will be filled with God’s supernatural joy. It is not a superficial “happiness,” an inability to mourn or empathize with others in pain, but a deeply positive strength that comes from above, a joy that imparts God’s power by His spirit.
Holiness and joy are intimates. Turn your frown upside down and take hold of a deep spiritual truth, “The joy of the Lord is your strength!”
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[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]As we continue our journey through the life of Elijah, let us take heart in this: Elijah was a man just like us. He was not born with heroic strength or unshakable resolve. He knew weakness, fear, and moments of failure—the same struggles we face. And yet, this one man, by faith, stood alone against a tide of sin and idolatry. By faith, he turned a nation back to God.
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.