John 15:16-17 You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you that you should go and bear fruit and that your fruit should abide, so that whatever you ask the Father in my name, he may give it to you. These things I command you, so that you will love one another.
Farmers and gardeners plant with great expectations. An abundant harvest is their vision as they sow the seeds for crops and vegetables, fruit, or grains. But everyone who plants, even the most amateur gardener, soon discovers there are competitors for the soil's nutrients...called WEEDS. Weeds are ambitious, resilient, and relentless, and they will affect the harvest if not removed. Every farmer and gardener needs a strategy to deal with weeds.
We also want to be fruitful as believers, and so we need to "weed" our own gardens. How would you identify the various "weeds" in your own plot of ground? What is sapping the nutrients which ought to be feeding your cash crop?
In this present spiritual climate, weeds have ample opportunity. The world is in such turmoil, the temptations so abundant, we need tremendous vigilance to pull up and clean out the useless thoughts, speculations, preoccupations, obsessions, and fears, which are multiplying like weeds! These will choke and starve the fruit of the Spirit.
Cast out fear. Pull it up at the roots. Let love grow abundant and free. Excavate your doubts and wash them away with the water of the Word.
Friend, seek the Lord hard now in brutally honest confession asking Him to reveal and pull up your weeds at the roots. Your crop is far too precious and valuable to squander or be stunted by worthless weeds. Your Father intended you for an abundant harvest, thirty, sixty, even one hundredfold. Don't let the weeds steal any of it!
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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.