Psalms 11:3-7 if the foundations are destroyed, what can the righteous do?” 4 The LORD is in his holy temple; the LORD’s throne is in heaven; his eyes see, his eyelids test the children of man. 5 The LORD tests the righteous, but his soul hates the wicked and the one who loves violence [Hamas]. 6 Let him rain coals on the wicked; fire and sulfur and a scorching wind shall be the portion of their cup. 7 For the LORD is righteous; he loves righteous deeds; the upright shall behold his face.
This piercing question opens Psalm 11 like a cry from the heart in times of trouble. It’s a question we ask when law and order collapse, when truth is ridiculed, and when those who do evil seem to triumph. The foundations — the principles of righteousness, justice, and truth that uphold society — are under siege. And it begs the question: What can God’s people do when everything righteous seems to be crumbling?
The answer comes immediately: “The LORD is in His holy temple; the LORD’s throne is in heaven.” God has not abdicated His throne. He is not shaken by the shaking of this world. While evil rises and darkness spreads, God remains sovereign, seated above it all. He sees. He knows. “His eyes behold, His eyelids test the children of man.” He is not blind to what is happening. He is testing the hearts of all people — especially the righteous.
The Hebrew word for violence in Psalm 11:5 is hamas — the very same word that names the modern terrorist organization Hamas. This is no linguistic coincidence. In Scripture, hamas describes more than just aggression; it embodies a spirit of brutal injustice, lawlessness, oppression, and bloodshed. It’s the same violent corruption that filled the earth in the days of Noah (Genesis 6:11), provoking God to cleanse the world with judgment. The spirit of hamas is ancient, and it remains active in our day — cloaked in modern ideology but rooted in the same rebellion against God’s order.
God is not passive toward such evil — He hates hamas. Whether it manifests as personal cruelty or coordinated terror, He detests those who love violence. Psalm 11:6 makes the verdict clear: “Let Him rain coals on the wicked; fire and sulfur and a scorching wind shall be the portion of their cup.” This isn’t poetic metaphor — it’s prophetic reality. The rise of hamas may be celebrated in the streets of men, but it stands condemned by the throne of heaven. God’s justice is sure. Evil may have its moment, but it will not have the final word.
But even as judgment falls, a promise shines for the faithful: “The LORD is righteous… the upright shall behold His face.” God delights in righteousness. He takes pleasure in those who remain upright, even when the world collapses around them. For those who endure, the reward is more than rescue — it’s relationship. They will see His face.
Take heart, righteous one. Though the foundations shake, ḥāmās—violence and lawlessness—floods the earth, and the wicked rise with boldness, do not be moved. God is still on His throne. He sees, He tests, He judges—and He remembers the faithful.
Embrace the testing. It’s not to break you, but to prepare you. Each trial draws you closer, deepens your dependence, and refines your walk. And in the end, the promise remains: the upright will behold His face.
Copyright 1999-2025 Worthy Devotions. This devotional was originally published on Worthy Devotions and was reproduced with permission.
How to display the above article within the Worthy Suite WordPress Plugin.
[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]As we continue our journey through the life of Elijah, let us take heart in this: Elijah was a man just like us. He was not born with heroic strength or unshakable resolve. He knew weakness, fear, and moments of failure—the same struggles we face. And yet, this one man, by faith, stood alone against a tide of sin and idolatry. By faith, he turned a nation back to God.
Over the past few years, some leaders who once inspired many have fallen into scandals that have brought harm and confusion to the body of Christ. In moments like these, it’s easy to feel disillusioned or lost, as if the work of God depends on human vessels who have failed us. But I’m reminded of how Elisha responded when Elijah was taken from him. His eyes were not on the departing servant but on the living God. “Where is the Lord God of Elijah?” he cried — not, “Where is Elijah?” That cry holds a lesson for us today: our hope and strength are not in human leaders, but in the God who works through them—and who remains faithful even when men falter.
The day before Israel launched Operation Rising Lion, Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu stood before the ancient stones of the Western Wall and placed a prayer in its crevices. He chose Numbers 23:24—a verse that declares a timeless truth: God calls Israel and His people everywhere to rise with strength, purpose, and courage, no matter what challenges they face.
When we read the Beatitudes, we catch a glimpse of Yeshua’s heart and the values that define His Kingdom. His words unveil the kind of life that God calls blessed—marked by humility, mercy, purity of heart, a hunger for righteousness, peacemaking, and faithful endurance in the face of suffering.
We often celebrate beginnings—new chapters, breakthroughs, divine appointments. But in God’s economy, every true beginning requires a holy crossing. Before the Hebrews could enter the Promised Land, they had to leave Egypt. Before they entered the Promised Land, they had to cross over the Red Sea. And before Abraham could receive God’s promises, he had to obey a single command: “Leave.”
When the children of Israel wandered in the wilderness for forty years, they traversed a rugged, unpredictable landscape — mile after mile of mountains, valleys, rocks, and desert sands — as they journeyed from slavery in Egypt to the Promised Land.
For many, God remains a theory—an idea borrowed from tradition, deduced from the cosmos, or tucked quietly into the corners of a creed. He is believed in from afar, but is rarely encountered. Even among believers, it’s not uncommon to live with a distant reverence for God while lacking a vibrant, personal communion with Him.