Genesis 1:6-8 Then God said, “Let there be a firmament in the midst of the waters, and let it divide the waters from the waters.” 7 Thus God made the firmament, and divided the waters which were under the firmament from the waters which were above the firmament; and it was so. 8 And God called the firmament Heaven. So the evening and the morning were the second day.
Ephesians 5:26-27 that He might sanctify and cleanse her with the washing of water by the word, 27 that He might present her to Himself a glorious church, not having spot or wrinkle or any such thing, but that she should be holy and without blemish.
Yesterday, we began our series of devotions focused on the birthing of the Kingdom. Continuing to develop these insights, let’s look at day 2 of creation and its focus upon water.
So much can be said: associated with creation itself, life, cleansing, purification, the Word of God, and the Holy Spirit, water, whenever it was made, was there at the beginning and carries tremendous meaning and significance in God’s creation.
And just as this world was conceived in and from water, our earthly life begins in the darkness of our mother’s womb, surrounded by water. Shortly before the final stage of birth, a critical event takes place which signals that there is no turning back now, as the increasing labor contractions leading to birth either have already begun or will begin shortly. The breaking of the amniotic sac, releasing the water in which the baby resides, precedes her soon coming passage through the birth canal.
In our personal spiritual journey, water baptism is a sacramental expression of our death to the self-life and resurrection to the new life in Messiah. It parallels our natural birth from water, a truth which is mentioned by the Lord in John’s gospel, “Except a man be born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter into the Kingdom of God”; [John 3:5]. Our baptism is a moment of truth and revelation closely associated with the receiving of God’s Holy Spirit, a defining moment in our life, publicly expressing our new faith, [Luke 3:21-22], and it happens in and with water.
We can thus draw a close connection between water and commitment. When the water breaks, the mother becomes committed to the labor leading to birth. When a soul enters baptism, she commits to a life of death to sin and resurrection to new holy life. Since, in fact, our Lord predicted birth pangs leading to His coming, we might expect a defining moment when “the water breaks” and the labor begins in earnest, which leads to the second Advent. This would be a defining moment which expresses commitment; i.e. the Lord’s commitment to His promised return in judgment, and our commitment to endure to the end by the power of the Holy Spirit.
Labor is painful, as must be the birth pangs of the end of the age. This seems obvious. But what about the association between water and life, water and cleansing, water and purification, water and the Holy Spirit? We see a potential in the water breaking moment that involves tremendous blessing: purification of our lives through trials, an increase in our need for and dependance upon the Holy Spirit, and the resulting great potential for a harvest, a birthing of souls, as our lives become more profoundly committed and authentic to the Lord’s image. And perhaps this water breaking moment will signal a second fulfillment of Joel’s prophecy, “I will pour out my spirit on all mankind…”. We will see…
But, we do see what seem a lot like birth pangs now. Has the “water broken” yet? Maybe, maybe not, but we have never seen a greater need for true commitment, amidst these “contractions”. And one of the greatest promises ever delivered to mankind was also about water: “He who believes in me, as the scripture has said, From his innermost being shall flow rivers of living water.” [John 7:38] So, the water-breaking moment, whatever and whenever it happens, signals that God will be with us, for purification, cleansing, and empowerment, through hard contractions, right up until the end. And with His indwelling we can make it through, be more than conquerors, and participate in what may be the greatest harvest ever, at the end of the age.
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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.