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]Just as a bird needs both wings to fly, a victorious life requires both faith and obedience. In Joshua, God calls Joshua to lead Israel into the Promised Land, not just with bold confidence but with complete dependence on His Word. Faith believes what God says; obedience acts upon it. One without the other stalls the journey. This moment wasn’t just about crossing into the promise land — it was about stepping into covenant reality, where trust in God’s promise was matched by surrender to God’s command.
The Book of Joshua offers more than a military history; it reveals the spiritual dynamics behind every victory and defeat in the life of a believer.
After Moses’ death, God commissioned Joshua to lead Israel into Canaan—a real place that carried profound spiritual meaning. Canaan was not a picture of heaven, for it was filled with enemies, obstacles, and the ongoing need for faith and obedience. Instead, it symbolized the believer’s journey: a life marked by conflict and conquest, failure and faithfulness, struggle and surrender. Just as Joshua was told to rise and cross the Jordan, every follower of Christ is called to move beyond mere spiritual survival into a victorious, Spirit-empowered walk—a life that embraces the fullness of God’s promises with courage, rest, and purpose.
When we hear the word Hineini—”Here I am,” many of us immediately think of the prophet Isaiah in chapter 6, standing before the throne of God, overwhelmed by His holiness. After being cleansed by the burning coal, Isaiah hears the Lord ask, “Whom shall I send?” and responds with the now-famous phrase: “Hineini—Here am I. Send me.”
Following Yeshua (Jesus) isn’t just about believing the right things or checking boxes. It’s about wanting to truly know God — to experience Him personally. And here’s the amazing part: even that desire starts with Him. God is the one who stirs our hearts and awakens our longing. If you find yourself hungry for more of Him, it’s because He’s already working in you.
There is a sacred truth buried deep in Scripture that many believers never fully embrace: you have been given authority through the Messiah, not someday, but now. It is not reserved for the spiritually elite. It is not earned through effort. It is your inheritance as a child of God. And this authority was purchased at the Cross and activated the moment you were born again.
Many of us can recite Yeshua’s (Jesus’) words about the two greatest commandments—loving God and loving our neighbor—but we often miss how deeply intertwined they are. We treat them like separate tasks: one for God, one for people. But in Greek, Yeshua uses the phrase homoia aute, which means “like to it.” The second commandment isn’t just next in line—it shares the same nature. This small detail radically changes how we understand the passage: loving others is essential to loving God.