Isaiah 59:17,19 For He put on righteousness as a breastplate, And a helmet of salvation on His head; He put on the garments of vengeance for clothing, And was clad with zeal as a cloak. So shall they fear The name of the Lord from the west, And His glory from the rising of the sun; When the enemy comes in, like a flood The Spirit of the Lord will lift up a standard against him.
Romans 13:12 The night is far spent, the day is at hand. Therefore let us cast off the works of darkness, and let us put on the armor of light.
Over the last week, tensions have escalated significantly following the assassination of an Iranian General and several terrorist leaders within the Iranian Embassy compound in Damascus. This week also coincides with the conclusion of Ramadan, during which there have been heightened calls from terrorist groups for attacks against Jewish and Christian communities. The war drums are beating … and the question is — how should we as believers respond?
First, we have to win the spiritual battle that we’re currently fighting! Whether you realize it or not, we as believers have been at war since we came to faith!
“For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world, and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.” Thus Paul instructed us in Ephesians. We fight against the kingdom of Satan.
We fight with spiritual weapons; prayer, the Word of God, faith in His truth, and His power– these are not carnal weapons but spiritual. We are seated in the heavenlies with Him [Ephesians 1:20], and in His authority, we make our stand.
The enemy’s weapons are temptations, fiery darts of doubt and disbelief, discouragement, weariness, earthly pleasures. Thus the enemy distracts us from and disarms us in the battle position.
But what soldier goes to war without taking the equipment necessary for war? A soldier on the battlefield without his weapons is useless and helpless and in great danger.
So it is in the spiritual realm. We need to actively take up our spiritual armor and weapons to fight the enemy. And we have this promise — when the enemy comes in — like a flood the Spirit of the Lord shall raise up a standard against Him! Are you ready to make your stand in this day?
Now, today, war is a very real threat in the physical realm – but it’s already been here for millennia in the spiritual realm. So by all means necessary take up the armor of God today – stand with Him in faith and win your battle, one day at a time — win the battle over your thoughts and your actions. YHVH Tz’vaot, “The LORD of Hosts” is with you, to strengthen, equip, and overcome; and His victory is assured!
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[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]These verses capture one of the most profound Messianic truths in all of Scripture. What man cast aside, God exalted. What the builders saw as flawed and unfit, God chose as the foundation of His eternal plan. Yeshua (Jesus), the rejected One, is the very cornerstone upon which salvation, identity, and destiny are built. This is more than a theological concept — it’s a divine reversal that reveals the heart of redemption. Rejection by man does not disqualify–it often qualifies you for God’s greatest purposes.
These verses are far more than ancient lyrics — they are a spiritual invitation. The psalmist doesn’t just admire the gate — he pleads for it to open. “Open to me the gates of righteousness…” This is the cry of a heart that longs for access to God, not by merit, but by mercy. In Hebrew thought, gates represent transition points — thresholds between the common and the holy, the outside and the inner court, the temporal and the eternal. These are not man-made doors — they are divine entrances into the presence and promises of the LORD.
As we continue our study in Psalm 118, I want to take a deep dive into verses 17-18, where the psalmist makes one of the boldest declarations in all of Scripture: “I shall not die, but live, and declare the works of the LORD.” This isn’t the voice of someone untouched by pain — it’s the cry of someone who has been through the fire and come out declaring God’s faithfulness. This statement is not a denial of suffering; it’s a defiance of death. It’s the resolve of a heart that’s been chastened, refined, and pressed, yet remains confident in the God who preserves life — not just for survival, but for purpose.
Over the past two devotionals, we heard the song of the redeemed and stood at the wells of salvation. We saw how strength, song, and salvation flow from Yeshua Himself — how the joy of drawing from His presence is not just a poetic promise but a lifeline for our day. Yet today, we stand at a prophetic threshold. Something has shifted. Something has broken open. We are not only being refreshed — we are being awakened and called.
Yesterday, we heard the anthem of the redeemed rise like a trumpet blast: “The LORD is my strength and song, and He has become my salvation.” We explored how this was more than personal — it was prophetic, Messianic, and generational. We saw Yeshua not only as our Deliverer but as the very embodiment of God’s strength, the melody of our praise, and the fulfillment of every promise. We stood in awe as tents of rejoicing rose in the midst of warfare, and households became sanctuaries of celebration. But today, we go deeper — we step to the well.
There’s a reason this verse resounds like a national anthem of the redeemed. It’s not just a personal declaration—it’s a generational cry that echoes back to Moses at the Red Sea (Exodus 15:2) and forward to the final deliverance of Israel. The Hebrew word for salvation—Yeshua—makes this verse unmistakably Messianic. It isn’t a vague deliverance. It is the revelation of Yeshua (Jesus), the Deliverer, who embodies strength, becomes our song, and stands as the fulfillment of God’s redemptive plan.
The cry that shattered the stillness of Golgotha—“My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?” (Psalm 22:1; Matthew 27:46)—was not a random cry of despair, but the deliberate voice of Yeshua pointing to Scripture. As He hung on the tree, bearing the sin of the world, He invoked the ancient words of David—not only identifying Himself as the righteous sufferer, but signaling that Psalm 22 was unfolding before their very eyes. In that moment, heaven and earth bore witness to a divine mystery: the Holy One, seemingly abandoned, was fulfilling a prophecy written a millennium earlier. Yeshua did not merely suffer—He fulfilled every word, every shadow, every stroke of divine prophecy.