Matthew 6:14-15 For if ye forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you: But if ye forgive not men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.
Tomorrow night, thousands will begin celebrating the feast of Pesach (Passover), the day we remember God’s merciful redemption of the Jewish people from Egypt. When the final plague struck Pharoh and the Egyptians in Exodus, those who were spared were the ones who applied blood to their doorposts as God warned. Interestingly, the blood that God required them to apply then was the blood of a spotless, unblemished lamb.
As believers in Messiah, we are blessed to have the blood of Yeshua (Jesus), our Passover Lamb, applied upon the doorposts of our hearts. The judgment we deserve has passed over us! And thankfully we can celebrate His redemption in our lives as well this season.
While this is a special time to celebrate God’s passing over our sins, there is one thing we sometimes overlook. Not only should we remember the Lord’s passing over our sins, but equally important is our obedience in passing over others’ sins. Forgive our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us. This is the way Yeshua taught us to pray, is it not? Today we have the opportunity to make this prayer a reality in our lives.
Has someone offended you? Committed a sin against you? It happens, and unfortunately, it will probably happen again, as we live in a world full of sin. But we need to pass over those offenses just as God has passed over ours.
Passover is the season to give our hurts to the Lord. Let’s allow Him to heal and free us, and those we’ve hurt and who’ve hurt us. We have been forgiven many offenses by the innocent blood of our Messiah. How much more should we forgive?
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]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.
In a world wearied by the failures of men, Isaiah 9:6 offers a startling promise of hope and strength: “The government shall be upon His shoulder.” This is not the language of politics as we know it — it’s the language of divine dominion. The Hebrew word for “government” here is misrah (מִשְׂרָה), a word so unique it appears only in these two verses—Isaiah 9:6 and 9:7. Unlike more common Hebrew words for government — mamlachah or memshalah, misrah speaks of a rare and elevated rule—divinely ordained, gentle in character, and eternal in scope. This is a government not imposed, but carried. Not tyrannical, but righteous and restorative.
The prophet Isaiah begins with language so familiar that it’s often read too quickly. Yet within this brief phrase lies a depth of mystery and majesty that anchors the entire gospel. “For unto us a Child is born” speaks of an earthly event–Messiah’s humanity. He was born as all men are born, taking on flesh, entering a specific culture, time, and lineage. The Hebrew word for “born” (yalad) reinforces His full identification with us. This is the miracle of the incarnation: God wrapped in the vulnerability of a newborn child.
When the Lord called us to be His ambassadors, He didn’t merely give us a message — He gave us a lifestyle to embody it. An ambassador is not just a messenger, but a living representation of the Kingdom they serve. That means our behavior, words, and example all matter deeply.