Psalms 139:23 Search me, O God, and know my heart: try me, and know my thoughts:
Talking to people about God has become a regular part of our lives. Between meeting people on the boards and in our chat rooms (which you should really come and visit at www.worthychristianforums.com!) and the opportunities which open up in our daily lives, we find ourselves sharing with people from all walks of life – unbelievers, new believers, people who have come and gone from the faith and back again.
It’s so typical of human nature to want all our questions answered before we decide to make any commitments, isn’t it? We want proof that God is real and that the Bible is accurate. We want to know why sometimes those who call themselves Christians do awful things and how God could allow bad things to happen to good people. Sadly, as soon as we think all our questions are answered to satisfaction, undoubtedly more appear. It happens to the best of us.
While they are numerous answers and proofs to these questions, we have come to realize that some things just can’t be answered with our minds – they have to be answered with our hearts. The deepest faith doesn’t come by getting all our questions answered – it comes simply when we open our hearts to the Lord and invite Him to search it through and through.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s good to ask questions and be knowledgeable of our faith, but the fact of the matter is that there are some questions to which we won’t find answers until we can see the Lord face to face and ask Him ourselves.
Regardless of whether we’re new believers, old believers, or not yet believers at all, let all of us open our hearts to God today and ask Him to do a work in us. May you be blessed as the Lord reveals new and wonderful treasures to your hearts.
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[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]When the children of Israel wandered in the wilderness for forty years, they traversed a rugged, unpredictable landscape — mile after mile of mountains, valleys, rocks, and desert sands — as they journeyed from slavery in Egypt to the Promised Land.
For many, God remains a theory—an idea borrowed from tradition, deduced from the cosmos, or tucked quietly into the corners of a creed. He is believed in from afar, but is rarely encountered. Even among believers, it’s not uncommon to live with a distant reverence for God while lacking a vibrant, personal communion with Him.
God has always longed for intimacy with us. He formed us for Himself–to walk with Him, to know Him, to delight in His Presence. This is the very heartbeat of creation: relationship, not religion. Yet sin drove a wedge between us. A veil was drawn, shutting out the light of His face and placing distance where there was once communion.
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.