Isaiah 63:12-14 Who caused his glorious arm to go at the right hand of Moses, who divided the waters before them to make for himself an everlasting name, 13 who led them through the depths? Like a horse in the desert, they did not stumble. 14 Like livestock that go down into the valley, the Spirit of the LORD gave them rest. So you led your people, to make for yourself a glorious name.
Isaiah recalls the Exodus as the supreme display of God’s Z’roah, His Arm of glory. Though the people saw Moses raise his staff over the Red Sea, it was not Moses’ power that split the waters. Behind the prophet’s hand was the Arm of the LORD — majestic, glorious, and unstoppable. The sea parted not to honor Moses, but to exalt the Name of the God who sent him. The Red Sea became a stage for God to reveal His glory, so that His Name would echo through generations as the Deliverer of His people.
The text emphasizes that this act of deliverance was for a greater purpose: “to make Himself an everlasting name.” The miracles of the Exodus were not random interventions; they were deliberate revelations of God’s character and covenant faithfulness. By cutting a highway through the sea, the Arm of the LORD was inscribing His Name into Israel’s memory and broadcasting His power to the nations. Pharaoh’s pride was crushed, Israel’s hope was restored, and God’s reputation as Redeemer was forever secured.
This same truth is repeated throughout Scripture. Every act of salvation magnifies His Name. When Abraham’s barren household was given Isaac, when David stood before Goliath, when Elijah called down fire on Mount Carmel — it was the LORD Himself making His Name known through human weakness. The Z’roah moves not to glorify men but to reveal the God who rules history.
In Messiah Yeshua, this reaches its climax. John’s Gospel declares that Yeshua’s (Jesus’) greatest hour of glory was the cross. There, the Arm was revealed in ultimate weakness and ultimate strength — suffering to redeem, dying to conquer, rising to reign. Philippians 2 tells us that because of this, “God has highly exalted Him and bestowed on Him the Name above every name.” The parting of the sea pointed forward to the tearing of the veil and the breaking of death’s power, all for the glory of the everlasting Name.
For us today, Isaiah’s words remind us that the miracles in our lives are never just about us — they are about Him. When God makes a way where there is no way, when He divides the seas of impossibility before us, it is so His Name might be glorified in us and through us. Our deliverance is His testimony. Our freedom is His witness. Every act of salvation is the Arm of the LORD writing His Name upon our story.
The glorious Arm that split the sea is the same Arm stretched wide at the cross. He still leads, He still delivers, and He still makes His Name known through His people. Lift your eyes from your own strength to the One whose Name is everlasting. The waters before you will part, not for your glory, but for His — and in your deliverance, the nations will know that He alone is God.
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[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]A few days ago, I shared a quote from B.J. Willhite, and today I want to delve deeper into his powerful insight. He wrote, “The law of prayer is the highest law of the universe—it can overcome the other laws by sanctioning God’s intervention. When implemented properly, the law of prayer permits God to exercise His sovereignty in a world under the dominion of a rebel with free will, in a universe governed by natural law.”
When God spoke to Abram, the command was clear yet profoundly personal. The Hebrew phrase lech lecha carries a dual meaning: “go forth” and “go for yourself.” This journey wasn’t just a physical relocation; it was a spiritual pilgrimage—a call to walk out God’s will and to walk into his divine inheritance. Abram’s journey was not merely about distance but about destiny.
In the stillness of a desert night, surrounded by cut offerings and the lingering scent of sacrifice, Abram beheld something utterly sacred — God Himself, in the form of a smoking oven and a burning torch, passing between the pieces of a covenant. It was not Abram who walked through the blood-soaked path. It was God alone. And that changes everything.
Tonight we’ll participate in the Independence Day celebration in Israel — and what a party! — shows, fireworks, music, dancing, everything under the sun!
Yesterday, Israel observed Yom HaShoah—Holocaust Remembrance Day—honoring the memory of the six million Jews who perished. Tragically, a recent poll reveals that nearly half of Israelis fear the possibility of another Holocaust. In light of this sobering reality, I want to share a powerful story of one remarkable woman who rescued 2,500 Jewish children from the ghettos during World War II.
One night a house caught fire and a young boy was forced to flee flames by jumping to the ground from the roof. His father stood on the ground below with outstretched arms, calling to his son, “Jump! I’ll catch you.” But the boy was afraid — he couldn’t see his father — all he could see was flame, smoke, and blackness. He was afraid. Still, his father kept yelling: “Jump son! I will catch you!” But the boy refused, crying, “Daddy, I can’t see you!” His father replied, “It’s ok son — I can see you — and that’s all that matters!”
After forty years of wandering in the wilderness, Israel finally crossed into the Promised Land—on the 10th day of Nissan, the very day they had been commanded to choose their Passover lamb [Exodus 12:3 , Joshua 4:19]. They couldn’t enter into their inheritance until a lamb was chosen—a powerful foreshadowing of the more excellent Lamb to come, in preparation for the Passover [Joshua 5:10], they were about to observe at Gilgal.