John 15:5 I am the vine, ye are the branches: He that abideth in me, and I in him, the same bringeth forth much fruit: for without me ye can do nothing.
When we moved into this place five months ago, the bushes in front looked terrible. The yard hadn't been cared for in so long that the bushes had grown into the trees, pulling down the branches, creating a thick wall of dry, dusty and intertwined shrubbery and blocking out the sunlight. Almost everything in the front yard was dead from lack of sun and sometimes even rain.
A couple of months ago, we inquired as to how much it would cost to cut all that dirty mess down so that we and the yard could receive a little sunlight. We found a reasonable price and the next morning two men came to start the job. About half way through the day, we were starting to feel for those guys as by this point all of us were realizing that they had terribly underestimated the work it would take to tear this thing down. What was supposedly only going to take a couple of hours, took all day long. From morning till dark, they hacked at that wall, and still had to return the next day to collect all the branches and leaves as it had already become too dark.
When the sun came up that next morning we felt it, and we stepped outside to see results. It looked, well.... horrible! The bushes and trees looked even more homely and uninviting than before. And now that the light shined brightly into our yard, the dryness and ugliness of everything showed in a way we hadn't seen it before! We were so disappointed.
But only two months later, the bushes, the grass, the flowers, everything is nice and green and beautiful!
Here's what we learned. In order for the sun to come in, the dross has to be cut down. At first, a lot of ugly things will be exposed. But as the sun shines down with all its nutrients and the rain moistens and washes away what was once all dry and dirty, little sprouts of fresh life begin to sprout and with time, before you know it, everything becomes new and any evidence of the old disappears.
Hmmmm. So it is with our hardened and dry hearts. We need to clear away the dross and let the Son come in! We needn't be discouraged when we see the results at first -- just keep allowing His nutrients to nourish us and His rain to wash us. Soon you and all our neighbors will see a beautiful thing grow and they will probably want to know how they too can get their hearts looking so nice!
Copyright 1999-2025 Worthy Devotions. This devotional was originally published on Worthy Devotions and was reproduced with permission.
How to display the above article within the Worthy Suite WordPress Plugin.
[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]Psalm 98 is a victory psalm — a call to lift up a “new song” because the Z’roah, the holy arm of the LORD, has brought decisive triumph. In Hebrew thought, the arm is the active extension of the will, the power that brings intention into reality. To call it “holy” is to declare that it is set apart, dedicated fully to God’s purpose, incapable of corruption. The psalmist celebrates that salvation is not a hidden act, but an open demonstration — God’s righteousness revealed before the eyes of the nations.
This is one of the most intimate revelations of the Z’roah in Scripture. God looks for a human intercessor but finds none. No man can bridge the gap. So His own Arm accomplishes the work. In Hebrew, v’tosha lo zeroa — “His arm saved for Him” — reveals that salvation originates from within God Himself, not from any outside help. Isaiah adds that His own righteousness sustained Him — it upheld His resolve to save — and His fury upheld Him, a holy passion that would not rest until justice was accomplished.
To “bare” the arm means to roll up the sleeve and reveal the full readiness for action. In Isaiah’s prophecy, this is a global unveiling — no longer hidden, the Z’roah is on display for all nations to witness. This speaks directly of Yeshua’s (Jesus’) public ministry and, ultimately, His crucifixion.
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.