Matthew 5:15 Neither do men light a candle, and put it under a basket, but on a lampstand; and it gives light to all that are in the house.
As we light the candles during the season of Chanukah, we remember that God has called us to be lights.
D. L. Moody told the story of a man who was crossing the Atlantic by ship. He was terribly sick and confined to his cabin. One night he heard the cry, “Man overboard!” He felt that there was nothing he could do to help, but on second thought, he said to himself, “I guess I can at least put my lantern in the porthole.” He struggled to his feet and hung the light, so it shined out into the darkness.
The next day he learned that the person who was rescued said, “I was going down in the dark night for the last time when someone put a light in a porthole. As it shone on my hand, a sailor in a lifeboat grabbed it and pulled me in.”
All of us have weaknesses — and times of weakness. The fact of the matter is, though, that weak or not, we need to muster up the strength to put our lights in our portholes for the sake of the dying and the lost among us. It’s so tempting to sulk in our weaknesses and stay in our beds — but God expects more of us. He has given us the strength to do all things — even move mountains! There are so many people around us sinking in despair. But God has chosen us to reach out and light up their lives!
Let’s do something extraordinary for the Lord today. Be bold, speak up! Let’s get beyond our weaknesses and light up the darkness around us!
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[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]Elijah had just come through one of the most intense seasons of his life. He had called down fire from heaven on Mount Carmel, seen the prophets of Baal defeated, and yet found himself running in fear from Jezebel, exhausted and discouraged. In the cave at Horeb, he cried out, believing he was alone and that all was lost. But it was there—in the still small voice—that God revealed His presence and His plan.
Over the weekend, the United States launched a bold operation aimed at ending Iran’s nuclear program. In the quiet of the night, unseen by human eyes, B-2 Spirit bombers initiated Operation Midnight Hammer—a precision strike designed to eliminate hidden threats before they could bring harm. With unmatched stealth, they cut through the darkness, delivering a decisive blow against danger.
Every true move of revival begins where few look for it—at the hidden brook, in the quiet place of God’s pruning. Cherith (נַחַל כְּרִית) means to cut off, to separate, to covenant. Before Elijah could stand on Mount Carmel and call down fire, he had to be separated, set apart for God’s purposes.
Before God’s servants can stand in high places before men, they must first bow low before Him. Elijah, fresh from proclaiming God’s judgment to Ahab, might have felt indispensable to God’s plan. Yet the following command was unexpected: “Hide yourself.” The brook Cherith became Elijah’s place of humbling, where pride was stripped away, self-reliance was broken, and his soul learned the sweetness of depending on God alone.
God’s servants must learn to walk by faith–one step at a time. This is a simple lesson, yet one that challenges even the most faithful. Consider Elijah: before he left his quiet home in Thisbe to stand before King Ahab with the word of the Lord, how many questions must have stirred his heart!
As we continue our journey through the life of Elijah, let us take heart in this: Elijah was a man just like us. He was not born with heroic strength or unshakable resolve. He knew weakness, fear, and moments of failure—the same struggles we face. And yet, this one man, by faith, stood alone against a tide of sin and idolatry. By faith, he turned a nation back to God.
Over the past few years, some leaders who once inspired many have fallen into scandals that have brought harm and confusion to the body of Christ. In moments like these, it’s easy to feel disillusioned or lost, as if the work of God depends on human vessels who have failed us. But I’m reminded of how Elisha responded when Elijah was taken from him. His eyes were not on the departing servant but on the living God. “Where is the Lord God of Elijah?” he cried — not, “Where is Elijah?” That cry holds a lesson for us today: our hope and strength are not in human leaders, but in the God who works through them—and who remains faithful even when men falter.