Isaiah 59:16 He saw that there was no man, And wondered that there was no intercessor; Therefore His own arm brought salvation for Him; And His own righteousness, it sustained Him.
Isaiah 63:5 I looked, but there was no one to help, And I wondered That there was no one to uphold; Therefore My own arm brought salvation for Me; And My own fury, it sustained Me.
This is one of the most intimate revelations of the Z’roah in Scripture. God looks for a human intercessor but finds none. No man can bridge the gap. So His own Arm accomplishes the work. In Hebrew, v’tosha lo z’roah — “His arm saved for Him” — reveals that salvation originates from within God Himself, not from any outside help. Isaiah adds that His own righteousness sustained Him — it upheld His resolve to save — and His fury upheld Him, a holy passion that would not rest until justice was accomplished.
This truth is central in the Passover (Pesach) picture: Israel did not fight her way out of Egypt; she was carried out. The Lamb’s blood and the Arm’s power worked together without Israel lifting a weapon. In the same way, at the cross, Yeshua (Jesus) — the Arm of the LORD — bore the full weight of salvation without human assistance. His righteousness sustained Him through the agony, and His righteous fury burned against sin and death until they were utterly defeated.
Theologically, this leaves no room for pride. We bring nothing to redemption but our need; we do not earn it, we receive it. Just as the Arm moves only at the Head’s command, Yeshua obeyed the Father’s will flawlessly — even to the point of death. His saving work was solitary, unstoppable, and completely sufficient. His righteousness was far more than a moral attribute; it was the unwavering strength that kept Him on course to fulfill the mission His Father had ordained for Him before the foundation of the world. (1 Peter 1:19-20)
Prophetically, Isaiah 63:5 echoes this: “My own arm brought me salvation, and my fury upheld me.” This is God ensuring that the work is perfect, untouched by human failure. His fury was not uncontrolled rage, but holy determination — the fierce love of the Redeemer refusing to let His people perish. The Arm finishes what the Head purposes, and nothing in heaven, earth, or hell can stop it.
For us, this means resting in the finished work. We add nothing to the cross but our surrender. The same Arm that saved alone is the Arm that sustains continually. The righteousness that held Him to His mission is the same righteousness now covering us, and the same holy passion that upheld Him is the passion that guards and keeps us until the end.
Stop carrying burdens you were never meant to bear. Salvation is His work from start to finish — rest in it, and you will discover a strength you could never produce on your own. For His Arm accomplishes all that the Father commands, His righteousness will never fail, and soon that same Arm will lift you up and 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 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.
The day before Israel launched Operation Rising Lion, Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu stood before the ancient stones of the Western Wall and placed a prayer in its crevices. He chose Numbers 23:24—a verse that declares a timeless truth: God calls Israel and His people everywhere to rise with strength, purpose, and courage, no matter what challenges they face.
When we read the Beatitudes, we catch a glimpse of Yeshua’s heart and the values that define His Kingdom. His words unveil the kind of life that God calls blessed—marked by humility, mercy, purity of heart, a hunger for righteousness, peacemaking, and faithful endurance in the face of suffering.