Exodus 12:12-13 For I will pass through the land of Egypt this night, and will smite all the firstborn in the land of Egypt, both man and beast; and against all the gods of Egypt I will execute judgment: I am the LORD. And the blood shall be to you for a token upon the houses where ye are: and when I see the blood, I will pass over you, and the plague shall not be upon you to destroy you, when I smite the land of Egypt.
As our family prepared and led a Passover Seder a few years ago, the Lord reminded me of a truth which I had understood, but never had seen so clearly applied from the Passover story.
Of course, the celebration of Passover for believers normally emphasizes the revelation of our Passover Lamb -- the Lamb of God, Yeshua, who was delivered up, a Lamb without blemish, and sacrificed in our place as an offering for our sins. As Israel celebrates deliverance from slavery, we celebrate deliverance from the bondage of sin. We celebrate knowing that death no longer has power over us since we pass from this temporal world into the eternal when we die.
Furthermore, when the children of Israel were passed over, while each of the firstborn of Egypt died, Israel did not depart as penniless slaves. They left carrying with them the riches of Egypt! Likewise, we who were spiritually "penniless" when we came to the Lamb, instantaneously inherited riches beyond our imagination. These are two of the wonderful lessons from the Passover event.
As I studied in preparation for our Seder another truth has struck me powerfully-- the blood needed to be applied! If the children of Israel had merely believed in the power of the lamb's blood, and the word of Moses, but never applied it to their doorposts, the angel of death would still have killed their firstborn! A passive belief in the blood would not have saved them -- action was required -- the blood needed to be applied to their doorpost. Once the blood was applied, a line was drawn across which the angel of death could not pass!
Most of us have an understanding of the power of the blood. But are we actively applying the blood to our lives and circumstances as a hedge of protection around us? No, not as a magic formula, but prayerfully in the spirit, as a cleansing and protective reality over our lives, families, loved ones, homes, cities, and nations.
Assume your authority as a child of God this Passover season, and apply the blood over any area of your life that needs His supernatural protection and provision. Don't take a passive approach in these last days, but be actively walking in the power of the blood, this Passover, and in the coming days....for truly, if there was ever a time we needed to be walking in His power, protection and victory, it's Today!
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[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]Yesterday, we heard the anthem of the redeemed rise like a trumpet blast: “The LORD is my strength and song, and He has become my salvation.” We explored how this was more than personal — it was prophetic, Messianic, and generational. We saw Yeshua not only as our Deliverer but as the very embodiment of God’s strength, the melody of our praise, and the fulfillment of every promise. We stood in awe as tents of rejoicing rose in the midst of warfare, and households became sanctuaries of celebration. But today, we go deeper — we step to the well.
There’s a reason this verse resounds like a national anthem of the redeemed. It’s not just a personal declaration—it’s a generational cry that echoes back to Moses at the Red Sea (Exodus 15:2) and forward to the final deliverance of Israel. The Hebrew word for salvation—Yeshua—makes this verse unmistakably Messianic. It isn’t a vague deliverance. It is the revelation of Yeshua (Jesus), the Deliverer, who embodies strength, becomes our song, and stands as the fulfillment of God’s redemptive plan.
The cry that shattered the stillness of Golgotha—“My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?” (Psalm 22:1; Matthew 27:46)—was not a random cry of despair, but the deliberate voice of Yeshua pointing to Scripture. As He hung on the tree, bearing the sin of the world, He invoked the ancient words of David—not only identifying Himself as the righteous sufferer, but signaling that Psalm 22 was unfolding before their very eyes. In that moment, heaven and earth bore witness to a divine mystery: the Holy One, seemingly abandoned, was fulfilling a prophecy written a millennium earlier. Yeshua did not merely suffer—He fulfilled every word, every shadow, every stroke of divine prophecy.
King David wrote these words generations before the empty tomb shook the foundations of death. At first glance, Psalm 16 reads like a personal prayer of trust — a yearning for security and closeness with God. But beneath the surface, the Spirit was revealing something deeper, something eternal: a promise not just for David, but for all of us.
The majestic Messianic prophecy of Isaiah 9 culminates in a powerful declaration: “The zeal of the Lord of hosts will perform this.” Not might. Not maybe. Not if we work hard enough. It will be done — because God Himself is passionate to see it through. The Hebrew word for “zeal” here is קִנְאָה (kin’ah), which also means jealousy or burning passion. This is not passive interest — it’s the fiery determination of the LORD of Hosts to establish His Kingdom. The same fiery zeal that struck Egypt with plagues—shattering the power of false gods, that parted the Red Sea and made a way where there was none, that birthed a nation from the womb of slavery, and that drove the Son of God to the cross at Calvary — is the very zeal that will fulfill every promise declared in Isaiah 9.
In a world weary from political upheaval, moral confusion, and fleeting peace, Isaiah offers us a vision of something profoundly different—an ever-increasing kingdom ruled by a King whose justice is not compromised, whose peace is not fleeting, and whose throne is eternally secure. The phrase “of the increase of His government and peace there will be no end” speaks not just of duration, but of expansion—a kingdom that doesn’t plateau, doesn’t weaken, and doesn’t shrink back in the face of darkness. Instead, it advances, multiplies, and transforms.
In the Hebraic understanding, a name isn’t just a label—it reveals essence, identity, and destiny. Isaiah doesn’t say these are merely descriptions of the Messiah; he says His Name shall be called — meaning this is who He is. When we declare these names, we are not offering poetic praise — we are calling upon real attributes of the living King. In just one verse, the prophet unveils the depth of Messiah’s personhood, showing us that this child is no ordinary child. He is the fulfillment of heaven’s promise and the revelation of God’s nature.