Psalms 3:1-8 A Psalm of David, when he fled from Absalom his son. O LORD, how many are my foes! Many are rising against me; 2 many are saying of my soul, “There is no salvation for him in God.” Selah 3 But you, O LORD, are a shield about me, my glory, and the lifter of my head. 4 I cried aloud to the LORD, and he answered me from his holy hill. Selah 5 I lay down and slept; I woke again, for the LORD sustained me. 6 I will not be afraid of many thousands of people who have set themselves against me all around. 7 Arise, O LORD! Save me, O my God! For you strike all my enemies on the cheek; you break the teeth of the wicked. 8 Salvation belongs to the LORD; your blessing be on your people! Selah
David wrote Psalm 3 while running for his life — betrayed, heartbroken, and hunted by his own son, Absalom. The weight of rebellion wasn’t just political; it was personal. His household had turned against him. Friends became foes. Loyal hearts grew cold. The throne he once held was now surrounded by enemies, and the whispers grew louder: “There is no salvation for him in God.” (Psalm 3:2)
But David didn’t answer his enemies — he answered with worship.
“But You, O LORD, are a shield about me, my glory, and the lifter of my head.” (Psalm 3:3) In the midst of collapse, David turned his eyes upward. When everything else was falling apart, he clung to the truth that God had not. The Lord was his shield — not just ahead of him, but around him, covering the blind spots, the unseen threats. When others stripped away his dignity, God became his glory. When grief bowed his head low, God lifted it again.
David didn’t just endure—he rested. “I lay down and slept; I woke again, for the LORD sustained me.” (Psalm 3:5) That single verse speaks volumes. David didn’t sleep because the danger was gone—he slept because his trust was anchored in the God who never sleeps. Surrounded by betrayal and hunted in the dark, he laid his head down in faith, not fear. And when morning came, breath still in his lungs, it was proof: God was still writing his story.
And because of that, he faced the day unshaken. “I will not be afraid of many thousands of people who have set themselves against me all around.” (Psalms 3:6) The odds didn’t matter anymore. God was with him. The same voice that silenced storms now steadied his heart.
“Arise, O LORD! Save me, O my God!” (Psalm 3:7) David called out — not in panic, but in confidence. He had seen what God could do. He knew the One who breaks the power of the wicked and silences every mocking mouth. And then he makes a bold declaration that echoes across generations: “Salvation belongs to the LORD; Your blessing be on Your people.” (Psalm 3:8)
This isn’t just David’s testimony — it’s the battle cry of every believer who’s ever stood in the fire and refused to bow. When betrayal breaks your heart, when fear grips your chest, when the enemy hisses, “You’re finished” — lift your eyes. The same God who shielded David surrounds you now. He is your defender. He is your honor when shame tries to stain you. He is the hand that lifts your head when the weight of life pulls it down.
Your rescue doesn’t come from strategy or strength, from plans or performance. Salvation is God’s alone — and He’s never lost a battle. His blessing isn’t fragile. It doesn’t vanish in the storm. It rests still — on those who trust Him. Selah. Let that truth thunder through your soul while the battle rages on!
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[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]A beachhead is the first critical objective in a military invasion–the spot where a force lands on enemy territory and secures a position for greater advancement. It’s the place of breakthrough. And it’s also the place of fiercest resistance.
David wrote Psalm 3 while running for his life — betrayed, heartbroken, and hunted by his own son, Absalom. The weight of rebellion wasn’t just political; it was personal. His household had turned against him. Friends became foes. Loyal hearts grew cold. The throne he once held was now surrounded by enemies, and the whispers grew louder: “There is no salvation for him in God.”
Psalm 2 is a divine announcement — a heavenly decree that demands the world’s attention. It begins with a question: “Why do the nations rage, and the peoples plot in vain?” (Ps. 2:1). The nations rise up, not against injustice or tyranny, but against the rule of God’s Meshiach (Messiah). That Anointed is Yeshua — the Son whom the Father has set on His holy hill in Zion (Ps. 2:6). The psalm strips away all pretense and exposes the heart of human rebellion: it is a refusal to be ruled by His Messiah.
Psalm 1 opens with a sobering warning about the quiet, deadly slide into sin. The man without God doesn’t become a scorner overnight — he drifts there gradually. First, he walks in ungodly counsel, entertaining worldly thoughts. Then, he stands in the path of sinners, embracing their way of life. Finally, he sits in the seat of the scornful, hardened in heart and mocking what is sacred. This progression — from a man without God to scorner — reveals how small compromises grow into full rebellion, dulling the conscience and deadening the soul.
Last night marked the beginning of Shavuot–a feast that many Christians recognize as Pentecost, the day the Holy Spirit was poured out in Acts 2. But the roots of Shavuot stretch back much further. Long before that upper room encounter–about 1,500 years earlier–Shavuot was the day God gave the law to Moses on Mount Sinai, writing His commandments on tablets of stone.
In a world trembling with uncertainty–political unrest, economic turmoil, natural disasters–God is speaking again. Not in whispers, but with the shaking that reorders lives, redefines kingdoms, and removes everything that cannot stand in the presence of His glory. He is preparing us for a kingdom that cannot be moved. But in the midst of the shaking, there is rest — a deep, unshakable rest reserved for the people of God. Not rest as the world gives — temporary relief or distraction — but the kind that anchors the soul in the storm, the kind that is rooted in Yeshua (Jesus), our rest.
Just as a bird needs both wings to fly, a victorious life requires both faith and obedience. In Joshua, God calls Joshua to lead Israel into the Promised Land, not just with bold confidence but with complete dependence on His Word. Faith believes what God says; obedience acts upon it. One without the other stalls the journey. This moment wasn’t just about crossing into the promise land — it was about stepping into covenant reality, where trust in God’s promise was matched by surrender to God’s command.