John 8:36 Therefore if the Son shall make you free, you shall be free [eleutheros] indeed.
Galatians 5:1 Stand fast therefore in the liberty with which Christ has made us free, and do not again be held with the yoke of bondage.
In today’s culture, freedom is often defined as doing whatever you want—living without restrictions, chasing your happiness, and controlling your destiny. But when you dig into the Greek word eleutheros, meaning “free,” you discover that real freedom isn’t about cutting all ties—it’s about being connected to the right things. True freedom isn’t found in isolation, but in surrender to God.
Biblical freedom doesn’t come from the absence of rules but through the mastery of them. It’s like a skilled musician who can play freely because they understand the structure of music. In the same way, living within God’s design brings real freedom. It’s not chaos or rebellion—it’s life in step with the Spirit, guided by the wisdom and boundaries God gives. Freedom, in this sense, is not about being unrestrained, but about being rightly aligned.
Think of it like riding a bike. It’s frustrating and even painful when you don’t know how to ride. But once you’ve learned, the bike becomes a source of joy and freedom. God’s law works the same way. It never changes, and whether it brings blessing or struggle depends on how well we’ve learned to ride in rhythm with it. Yeshua didn’t toss the bike aside—He showed us how to ride it with grace and purpose. He fulfilled the law by living it perfectly and calling us to follow Him.
But without boundaries, what we call “freedom” can quickly turn into slavery. Someone might think they’re free by doing whatever they want, but if that leads to addiction, brokenness, or emptiness — it becomes a trap. Real freedom involves the wisdom to make choices that keep us free, not just for a moment, but for the long haul. That’s why discipline matters. Walking with Yeshua doesn’t take away our freedom—He restores it. His way protects it, His strength upholds it, and His presence helps it last.
The world tells us that freedom is about being in control of ourselves, answering to no one. But that kind of freedom is actually another form of bondage. The harder we try to be our own masters, the more burdened we become with the pressure to succeed, prove ourselves, and keep everything together. True freedom comes when we stop striving and surrender to Someone greater—Yeshua, who carries the weight we were never meant to bear.
That’s why Paul says in Galatians 5:1, “Stand fast.” He doesn’t mean to stand on your own strength or independence. He means stay grounded in the freedom Christ gives—the kind of freedom that comes through surrender, not control. In Him, we’re not just freed from something—we’re freed for something. We’re released from the tyranny of self so we can live a life of love, service, and purpose. The law wasn’t given to earn favor, but to show our need for grace. And now, as beloved sons and daughters, we follow not out of duty, but out of love — because we are free!
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[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]Psalm 118:24 is not merely about enjoying a new day — it is a prophetic declaration of a divinely appointed moment. “This is the day the LORD has made” speaks of a kairos moment in history when heaven and earth converge. It points to the day when Messiah would be revealed, salvation would walk into Jerusalem, and God’s covenant plan would take a dramatic step forward. This is not the casual celebration of a sunrise — it is the joyful response to God’s redemptive unfolding.
These verses capture one of the most profound Messianic truths in all of Scripture. What man cast aside, God exalted. What the builders saw as flawed and unfit, God chose as the foundation of His eternal plan. Yeshua (Jesus), the rejected One, is the very cornerstone upon which salvation, identity, and destiny are built. This is more than a theological concept — it’s a divine reversal that reveals the heart of redemption. Rejection by man does not disqualify–it often qualifies you for God’s greatest purposes.
These verses are far more than ancient lyrics — they are a spiritual invitation. The psalmist doesn’t just admire the gate — he pleads for it to open. “Open to me the gates of righteousness…” This is the cry of a heart that longs for access to God, not by merit, but by mercy. In Hebrew thought, gates represent transition points — thresholds between the common and the holy, the outside and the inner court, the temporal and the eternal. These are not man-made doors — they are divine entrances into the presence and promises of the LORD.
As we continue our study in Psalm 118, I want to take a deep dive into verses 17-18, where the psalmist makes one of the boldest declarations in all of Scripture: “I shall not die, but live, and declare the works of the LORD.” This isn’t the voice of someone untouched by pain — it’s the cry of someone who has been through the fire and come out declaring God’s faithfulness. This statement is not a denial of suffering; it’s a defiance of death. It’s the resolve of a heart that’s been chastened, refined, and pressed, yet remains confident in the God who preserves life — not just for survival, but for purpose.
Over the past two devotionals, we heard the song of the redeemed and stood at the wells of salvation. We saw how strength, song, and salvation flow from Yeshua Himself — how the joy of drawing from His presence is not just a poetic promise but a lifeline for our day. Yet today, we stand at a prophetic threshold. Something has shifted. Something has broken open. We are not only being refreshed — we are being awakened and called.
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.