Proverbs 18:15 The heart of the prudent acquires knowledge; and the ear of the wise seeks knowledge.
I'm not sure where I read it, but the idea has always been ingrained in my mind -- if you want to be a good teacher, be a good student. When Yeshua (Jesus) lived on the earth, his disciples were called "talmudim". The Hebrew literally means "students". "Talmudim" comes from the verb, "Lilmod", "to learn". In essence, talmudim are learners.
We who know Yeshua as Lord consider Him our Rabbi or Teacher, and ourselves, His talmudim. As such we continue to learn and grow in His wisdom, love, and character.
This learning process involves regular tests from our Lord as He leads us from one level of faith to the next. I recall years ago when I was in school, never being a huge fan of tests -- in fact, rather disliking them quite a bit. I'd often find myself attempting to cram mountains knowledge into my poor brain the night before an important exam. Then, after completing the test I would quickly forget most of what I had crammed and scarcely absorbed. Doubtless had I been required to retake the test a week later, I'd almost certainly have failed it.
But in the testing of faith, we cannot cram knowledge or understanding and still hope to pass. If we try this shoddy and superficial approach to learning we will simply find ourselves retaking the test, over and over again. If we are truly His talmudim, we will study, pray and delve deeply into the challenging material at hand, to learn and absorb the lesson well, so that we are educated, transformed, and well equipped to move forward in the Lord. Yeshua wants us to learn today's lesson – because He has a new lesson for us tomorrow!
What lesson is today's important lesson? Be diligent to understand and apprehend it, and even to begin applying it. So doing you'll be thoroughly equipped and prepared for the one your Rabbi will send next...maybe even, tomorrow!
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[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]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.
The majestic Messianic prophecy of Isaiah 9 culminates in a powerful declaration: “The zeal of the Lord of hosts will perform this.” Not might. Not maybe. Not if we work hard enough. It will be done — because God Himself is passionate to see it through. The Hebrew word for “zeal” here is קִנְאָה (kin’ah), which also means jealousy or burning passion. This is not passive interest — it’s the fiery determination of the LORD of Hosts to establish His Kingdom. The same fiery zeal that struck Egypt with plagues—shattering the power of false gods, that parted the Red Sea and made a way where there was none, that birthed a nation from the womb of slavery, and that drove the Son of God to the cross at Calvary — is the very zeal that will fulfill every promise declared in Isaiah 9.
In a world weary from political upheaval, moral confusion, and fleeting peace, Isaiah offers us a vision of something profoundly different—an ever-increasing kingdom ruled by a King whose justice is not compromised, whose peace is not fleeting, and whose throne is eternally secure. The phrase “of the increase of His government and peace there will be no end” speaks not just of duration, but of expansion—a kingdom that doesn’t plateau, doesn’t weaken, and doesn’t shrink back in the face of darkness. Instead, it advances, multiplies, and transforms.
In the Hebraic understanding, a name isn’t just a label—it reveals essence, identity, and destiny. Isaiah doesn’t say these are merely descriptions of the Messiah; he says His Name shall be called — meaning this is who He is. When we declare these names, we are not offering poetic praise — we are calling upon real attributes of the living King. In just one verse, the prophet unveils the depth of Messiah’s personhood, showing us that this child is no ordinary child. He is the fulfillment of heaven’s promise and the revelation of God’s nature.