Romans 8:28 And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose.
When I was in school, it seemed they ran a “fire drill” at least once a year. A long, loud, kind of scary bell would sound and we knew it was either a real fire, or, more likely, just another drill. We were formed into lines, ushered down the halls, and out the doors we went. Of course, the point was practice….so we would be prepared for a real fire.
Drills are preparations for real threats. They are “trials”. They test and prepare our readiness, give us opportunity to try on the emotions and actions we would experience in a genuine crisis. We need them and should even “count it pure joy” because they’re necessary for our growth and maturity [James 1]. And trials are graduated; that is they get harder, kind of like math tests, they seem even to build on one another. Abraham’s life was like that; just consider the different trials he endured leading to the sacrifice of Isaac.
Life in the world has always been full of real dangers, threats, crises, and disasters, though some of us have been spared from much of them. Yet now, it seems, we’ve got a tough drill to face; one which can really test our mettle. Uncertainty, limitation, perplexity, discomfort, maybe illness and genuine lack, altogether pack the power to raise our emotional temperature and really threaten our trust. Some people are unfazed but plenty of others are moved toward the edges of their capacity to cope.
It’s time to discover our resources; first of all, to remember our Father’s providence in every past drill that He sent us. Even when there was a real fire, He somehow got you out the door. You learned something on the other side of the threat; you were changed. He was there.
This word, “All things work together for good to them that love God and are the called according to His purpose”, is deeply apprehended by people whom the Lord has taken through serious troubles. “Suffering produces perseverance, (and) perseverance, character…”
We were born for this, and we were born again for this. Our life here is simply a preparation for eternity. Trials are preparation for eternity because they perfect our faith and form the character of Christ in us. Don’t be surprised when they escalate; the goal is for us to graduate. Anxiety and panic are not for us, but for the faithless. We just need to tell each other that God will pull us through, and will shortly take us Home. We know the drill. We can pass through…
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[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.