Isaiah 51:9 Awake, awake, put on strength, O arm of the LORD; awake, as in days of old, the generations of long ago. Was it not you who cut Rahab in pieces, who pierced the dragon?
Psalms 89:9-10 You rule the raging of the sea; when its waves rise, you still them. 10 You crushed Rahab like a carcass; you scattered your enemies with your mighty arm.
Isaiah’s words summon one of the most dramatic images of God’s saving power: the Z’roah — the Arm of the LORD — cutting Rahab in pieces and piercing the dragon.
Here, Rahab is not the woman of Jericho but a poetic name for Egypt (Psalm 87:4), often symbolizing arrogant nations and the dark spiritual powers behind them. In Hebrew poetry, Rahab also evokes the sea monster of chaos, a stand-in for the forces that oppose God’s order. To say the Arm “cut Rahab in pieces” is to recall how God shattered Egypt’s pride and broke the grip of the powers that enslaved His people.
The dragon, or serpent, is another layer of this imagery. Behind Pharaoh’s cruelty and Egypt’s gods was the same ancient serpent that slithered into Eden — the chaos-bringer, the deceiver, the enemy of God’s purposes. When the Arm of the LORD struck Egypt with plagues and split the Red Sea, it was not only Pharaoh who was defeated; it was the serpent himself who was pierced, exposed as powerless against the covenant God of Israel. The Exodus was more than political liberation — it was a cosmic showdown, and the Arm of God prevailed.
The cry “Awake, awake!” is not a suggestion that God has grown weary or inattentive. In Hebrew, “lavesh oz” — “put on strength” — means to clothe oneself for action, to rise up ready for battle. The exiles were invoking the Arm that once destroyed Rahab, pleading for Him to act again in their day. This was a declaration of faith: the God who pierces the dragon once will pierce him again.
Yet the Arm does not only strike; it saves. The same Arm that shattered Egypt also carried Israel safely through the sea, making a way where there was none. The battle was never for spectacle but for the flock’s safety. Every sword-thrust against the dragon clears a path for God’s people to walk in freedom. His piercing blow is always for the sake of deliverance.
Prophetically, this piercing of the dragon finds its ultimate fulfillment in Messiah Yeshua (Jesus). At the cross, the Arm of the LORD struck the serpent’s head, disarming principalities and powers (Colossians 2:14-15). In His resurrection, He proved that the dragon has no final claim over His people. Revelation picks up the same imagery, declaring the final defeat of the great dragon, Satan, who is cast down forever (Revelation 12:9; 20:10). The Arm that pierced in Egypt pierced again at Calvary — and will pierce once more at the end of the age.
For us today, Isaiah’s cry becomes our own. In seasons when chaos swirls and the enemy’s roar seems loud, we call upon the Arm of the LORD — not as if He were asleep, but as an act of faith that He will rise and act again. The dragon still snarls, but his fate is sealed. The Arm has already pierced him, and His victory is our inheritance.
The Arm that pierced the dragon is the very Arm stretched wide at the cross for you. Call upon Him, and remember that He has already given you authority to tread upon serpents and scorpions and over all the power of the enemy (Luke 10:18–19). He will carve a way for you through raging seas, opening a path where there seems to be no way. So stand firm — for the dragon’s roar is nothing more than the echo of his defeat, and his end is already sealed. The same Arm that cut Rahab in pieces, that split the waters, that crushed the serpent’s head, is the Arm that now holds you secure and will carry you all the way home!
Copyright 1999-2025 Worthy Devotions. This devotional was originally published on Worthy Devotions and was reproduced with permission.
How to display the above article within the Worthy Suite WordPress Plugin.
[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]Every day roughly 150,000 around the world die. Death has a way of raising our spiritual temperature and quickening us to re-evaluate life…especially to ask, “Am I doing all that I can do?”
The first king of Israel, King Saul,was told by God to utterly slay Amalek and his descendants. In blatant disobedience Saul allowed Agag, the king of the Amalekites and the best of the cattle to remain alive. The following day, Saul tried to remedy his disobedience by attempting to sacrifice the best of the cattle to the Lord.
If you’ve ever been to Israel, you know that Shabbat—what we call the Sabbath—is a big deal. It starts Friday at sundown and goes until Saturday at sundown, and let me tell you, the whole country gets ready for it like clockwork. Friday mornings are busy—really busy. The outdoor markets are packed, folks are rushing around grabbing last-minute groceries, cleaning house, cooking meals, and getting everything wrapped up before things shut down. By the time the sun sets, the streets get quiet, the stores close, and life slows down. For the next 24 hours, it’s all about rest.
Watching Yeshua (Jesus) lay down His life to die on the cross was not what His disciples were expecting, but rather a shocking, perplexing, and apparently hopeless ending to what had seemed like a promising fulfillment of Messianic hope. The shattering ordeal of Yeshua’s trials, torture, and horrific death must have left them all feeling bereft, miserable, and uncertain of the future. What would they do now? What would their future hold?
According to ancient Jewish legend, one day Abraham was shown his father, Terah’s room of many idols. Young Abraham, thinking that perhaps he could discover intimacy with them, made some desirable delicacies and placed them before the idols. When nothing happened, he realized that these idols were nothing more than clay — they could do nothing for him or anyone else for that matter. So he proceeded to destroy all the idols, except for one.
Among those in the court of Alexander the Great was a philosopher of outstanding ability but little money. He asked Alexander for financial help and was told to draw whatever he needed from the imperial treasury.
Make no mistake—the spirit of antisemitism is very much alive today. Yet this isn’t a new struggle. It is an ancient spiritual war that has been ongoing for thousands of years. As people worldwide celebrate Purim, recalling the Jewish people’s deliverance from Haman’s evil schemes that took place in the ancient Kingdom of Persia (Iran), we are reminded of a deeper reality: a spiritual conflict between heavenly powers and demonic principalities.