Exodus 15:3 The LORD is a man of war; the LORD is his name.
1 Samuel 17:46-47 This day the LORD will deliver you into my hand, and I will strike you down and cut off your head. And I will give the dead bodies of the host of the Philistines this day to the birds of the air and to the wild beasts of the earth, that all the earth may know that there is a God in Israel, and that all this assembly may know that the LORD saves not with sword and spear. For the battle is the LORD's, and he will give you into our hand.”
As we’ve been traveling across the United States, the spiritual warfare is more tangible than ever before. Whereas years ago, it was done in secret, open, and public occult demonic activity is increasing in numerous places. We are facing principalities and powers in heavenly places and here on Earth, and we must fight as the saints of old, with the spiritual weapons of faith, and the sword of the Spirit which is the word of God. And ultimately it IS His battle.
This great war, being fought on the battleground of humanity itself, has, from the Lord's perspective, already been won. Messiah Yeshua's victory at the cross resounds through history in every direction of time and space. In this sense, the battle is not ours, but the Lord's, whose triumph over sin, death, and evil was perfectly accomplished there. And since God exists beyond time and space, it's already over in His world. The very grammar of prophetic utterances, particularly in the OT, we call the "prophetic past", is written as though the events described have been completed.
As such, in these developing prophetic days, we live in a paradox, "the already, but not yet". Even as evils increase all around, we're participating in both... a present war, and a present victory. And so we carry both... responsibility and confidence.
Our confidence stands firmly in the resurrection and authority of the Lord Yeshua as He sits at the right hand of the Father. And since we're not fighting in our own strength we can declare, "O Lord this is your battle!
Our responsibility is firmly rooted in our confidence; not in flesh, chariots, horses, armies, weapons, technologies, noble human intentions, economic power or prosperity, political agendas, constitutions, presidents, nor anything else of this world. Our responsibility lies in our re-presentation of the One we love and serve who lives within us and empowers everything we do of any true value. In the power of the Spirit, with bold confidence, we can declare His eternal truth, the most powerful weapon that has ever or will ever exist.
The enemy may attack with lies, deceptions and threats of every kind, and he will.…your defense is the Lord, what He has spoken, who He is, what He has done, and what He is doing in and through you. Your defense, and your offense, are Yeshua's victory and His Word, and this present battle truly is the Lord's. Take it to heart, “The battle is the Lord’s.” You simply stand declaring His victory and His truth to a sea of humanity desperate for forgiveness, hope, love, and peace.
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[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]The Hebrew phrase “z’roah moshel lo” paints the picture of an arm that governs with both strength and care. The same Z’roah that brought Israel out of Egypt in power now establishes righteous order and sustains His people in love. Deliverance without rulership is incomplete; the Redeemer becomes the King — and the King rules as a Shepherd. The Arm does not act independently but moves in perfect submission to the Head, carrying out the will of the Father.
I’ll be doing a series on the “Arm of God,” beginning with this first message — The Arm that Redeems. The Hebrew Z’roah (זְרוֹעַ) means “arm” or “strength,” and in ancient Hebrew culture, the arm symbolizes active power in motion — strength applied for a purpose. In the Exodus account, God tells Moses He will redeem Israel “with an outstretched arm” (bizroa netuyah). This was not poetic metaphor; it was God’s declaration of decisive intervention. The Z’roah is the covenant-keeping arm that moves history, enforces promises, and breaks oppression. Every Pesach (Passover), during the seder — the festive meal of remembrance — the roasted lamb shank bone, the Z’roah, rests on the plate as a silent yet powerful witness to God’s mighty deliverance.
These closing verses of Psalm 118 begin with an unshakable proclamation: “The LORD is God.” In Hebrew, it’s emphatic — YHVH, He is El — the declaration that all authority, holiness, and sovereignty belong to Him alone. Yet this is not just a statement of who He is — it’s a testimony of what He has done: “He has made His light to shine upon us.” This light is more than the glow of the sun — it is the revelation of His presence, the warmth of His favor, and the piercing truth that chases away every shadow. His light doesn’t simply illuminate — it transforms.
Psalm 118:24 is not merely about enjoying a new day — it is a prophetic declaration of a divinely appointed moment. “This is the day the LORD has made” speaks of a kairos moment in history when heaven and earth converge. It points to the day when Messiah would be revealed, salvation would walk into Jerusalem, and God’s covenant plan would take a dramatic step forward. This is not the casual celebration of a sunrise — it is the joyful response to God’s redemptive unfolding.
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.