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]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.
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.