James 4:8 Draw near to God and He will draw near to you. Cleanse your hands, you sinners; and purify your hearts, you double-minded.
Elul is a month when the distance between heaven and earth seems to shrink. The rabbis used a picture to explain this: “The King is in the field.” Normally, when a king resides in his palace, his people must pass through gates, guards, and endless protocol to gain an audience. Few are admitted, and even then, only with fear and trembling. But during Elul, the King is said to leave His palace and walk among His people in the open fields. He is close, approachable, and available to anyone who desires to draw near.
This picture captures the essence of Elul. God does not wait for us to ascend to Him by our own efforts; instead, He bends low, stepping into the ordinary places of our lives. He comes near where we labor, where we wrestle, where we sow and reap — and in His nearness, He invites us to turn aside and approach Him.
To “draw near” in this season means more than a fleeting prayer or a moment of religious duty. It is an intentional turning of the heart. James 4:8 says, “Draw near to God, and He will draw near to you.” Elul reminds us that God is already moving toward us — He is in the field, waiting for our response. To draw near is to make space, to set aside distraction, to step out of our routines and meet Him in the openness He has provided.
Even the name Elul hints at this intimacy. Its letters (Aleph-Lamed-Vav-Lamed) form the acronym for “Ani l’dodi v’dodi li” — “I am my Beloved’s, and my Beloved is mine” (Song of Songs 6:3). Elul is covenant love in action — not distant, not unreachable, but near and personal.
Beloved, the King is in the field. He is not behind walls or palace gates. He is walking where you walk. This is the time to stop, to look up, and to respond. Do not miss His nearness. Do not let the shofar sound without awakening. The Beloved is calling His Bride to Himself — to intimacy, to repentance, to readiness. The King is in the field … and He is waiting for you.
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[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]Psalm 98 is a victory psalm — a call to lift up a “new song” because the Z’roah, the holy arm of the LORD, has brought decisive triumph. In Hebrew thought, the arm is the active extension of the will, the power that brings intention into reality. To call it “holy” is to declare that it is set apart, dedicated fully to God’s purpose, incapable of corruption. The psalmist celebrates that salvation is not a hidden act, but an open demonstration — God’s righteousness revealed before the eyes of the nations.
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 zeroa — “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.
To “bare” the arm means to roll up the sleeve and reveal the full readiness for action. In Isaiah’s prophecy, this is a global unveiling — no longer hidden, the Z’roah is on display for all nations to witness. This speaks directly of Yeshua’s (Jesus’) public ministry and, ultimately, His crucifixion.
The Hebrew phrase “z’roah moshel lo” paints the picture of an arm that governs with both strength and care. The same Z’roah that brought Israel out of Egypt in power now establishes righteous order and sustains His people in love. Deliverance without rulership is incomplete; the Redeemer becomes the King — and the King rules as a Shepherd. The Arm does not act independently but moves in perfect submission to the Head, carrying out the will of the Father.
I’ll be doing a series on the “Arm of God,” beginning with this first message — The Arm that Redeems. The Hebrew Z’roah (זְרוֹעַ) means “arm” or “strength,” and in ancient Hebrew culture, the arm symbolizes active power in motion — strength applied for a purpose. In the Exodus account, God tells Moses He will redeem Israel “with an outstretched arm” (bizroa netuyah). This was not poetic metaphor; it was God’s declaration of decisive intervention. The Z’roah is the covenant-keeping arm that moves history, enforces promises, and breaks oppression. Every Pesach (Passover), during the seder — the festive meal of remembrance — the roasted lamb shank bone, the Z’roah, rests on the plate as a silent yet powerful witness to God’s mighty deliverance.
These closing verses of Psalm 118 begin with an unshakable proclamation: “The LORD is God.” In Hebrew, it’s emphatic — YHVH, He is El — the declaration that all authority, holiness, and sovereignty belong to Him alone. Yet this is not just a statement of who He is — it’s a testimony of what He has done: “He has made His light to shine upon us.” This light is more than the glow of the sun — it is the revelation of His presence, the warmth of His favor, and the piercing truth that chases away every shadow. His light doesn’t simply illuminate — it transforms.
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.