1 Kings 18:41-45 And Elijah said to Ahab, “Go up, eat and drink, for there is a sound of the rushing of rain.” 42 So Ahab went up to eat and to drink. And Elijah went up to the top of Mount Carmel. And he bowed himself down on the earth and put his face between his knees. 43 And he said to his servant, “Go up now, look toward the sea.” And he went up and looked and said, “There is nothing.” And he said, “Go again,” seven times. 44 And at the seventh time he said, “Behold, a little cloud like a man’s hand is rising from the sea.” And he said, “Go up, say to Ahab, ‘Prepare your chariot and go down, lest the rain stop you.’” 45 And in a little while the heavens grew black with clouds and wind, and there was a great rain.
Elijah heard what no one else did — a storm was coming. Though the sky was still blue and the ground still cracked from years of drought, Elijah discerned the sound of abundance. It was a prophetic knowing, a spiritual sensitivity that saw past what was visible into what God was about to do.
But Elijah didn’t just declare it — he prayed it through. He climbed Mount Carmel and bowed low, face between his knees, entering into deep intercession. This was the posture of travail. He sent his servant to look toward the sea seven times. Even when the report was “nothing,” he persisted — because faith doesn’t quit when the sky is clear. Faith presses in until the cloud appears.
We are in a similar moment now. God is preparing to pour out His Spirit again, in power and glory, in ways we have yet to see. There is a latter rain coming — an outpouring for the final harvest. But like Elijah, we must learn to see it before we see it, to pray into the promise, and to position ourselves for it.
Elijah tells Ahab to eat and drink — to rest in what’s coming. This is the spirit of Shabbat — a holy invitation to cease striving and trust that God is moving. In our own lives, we are called not just to work for revival but to rest in the God who brings it. Shabbat is not spiritual passivity; it’s confidence in God’s timing.
And here’s a crucial reminder: Some people get so focused on the tares that they miss the wheat. Yes, Scripture tells us a great apostasy is coming — but it also speaks of a great harvest. These two realities are not in conflict. The wheat grows right in the midst of the weeds (Matthew 13:30). The presence of darkness does not cancel the promise of light. In fact, the harvest at the end of the age comes while the weeds are still present. The farmer does not panic — he waits patiently for the latter rain to ripen the crop (James 5:7).
With prophetic vision, we can see that God is preparing to do something new—a fresh move, a divine shaking, a call to gather the harvest while it is still day. The clouds are forming. The rain is near.
This weekend, can we slow down — truly rest—and allow the Spirit to revitalize us for the mission we’re called to? Can we lay aside distraction and despair long enough to see the wheat, to hear the whisper of rain, and to recapture a vision of God’s plan for our lives? Let this be a time of sacred rest and prophetic realignment. You were made for this moment — for His harvest.
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[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]In the beginning of Psalm 2, David points out that the kings of the earth are against the Lord and his "anointed" [Mashiach "Messiah" in Hebrew]. David recognized the true authority of God and advises the kings and rulers of the world, as well as their subjects, to "kiss the Son, lest he be angry." The act of "kissing the Son" would be one of homage to a king, and would indicate submission to the kingship of the Son. Those who are wise will do so before the Son, the Messiah, comes to judge the world!
When the twelve spies were sent into Canaan to spy out the land, ten returned with a bad report. Their assessment was that it was impossible to conquer the land that God had promised them. Forgetting how God had led them with a pillar of fire by night, and fed them manna from heaven during the day, brought forth water out of a rock, and parted the Red Sea, they saw the situation with only their natural eyes, failed to walk by faith, and succumbed to fear.
When we moved into this place five months ago, the bushes in front looked terrible. The yard hadn't been cared for in so long that the bushes had grown into the trees, pulling down the branches, creating a thick wall of dry, dusty and intertwined shrubbery and blocking out the sunlight. Almost everything in the front yard was dead from lack of sun and sometimes even rain.
Since we returned to our home in the Negev Desert in Israel, we've noticed that the usual "desert scene" we are so accustomed to, has completely blossomed with grass and flowers -- what an amazing difference! It suddenly occured to me, as we were delighting in the beauty of it all, that the seed was already there! No one planted it. All the hills, now rolling endlessly with green -- they are not owned by anyone. Miles and miles of grass and wild flowers suddenly shoot forth where there was nothing but brown before! It was just waiting for someone to water it! And God brought the rains.
One of my favorite and most admired men of faith is a man named George Mueller. George Mueller (1805-1898) did many great works for the Lord in his lifetime, among them building several orphanages.
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Charles Swindoll said “Business (busy-ness) rapes relationships. It substitutes shallow frenzy for deep friendship. It feeds the ego but starves the inner man.”