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!
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[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]We often celebrate beginnings—new chapters, breakthroughs, divine appointments. But in God’s economy, every true beginning requires a holy crossing. Before the Hebrews could enter the Promised Land, they had to leave Egypt. Before they entered the Promised Land, they had to cross over the Red Sea. And before Abraham could receive God’s promises, he had to obey a single command: “Leave.”
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.