Isaiah 9:6-7 For unto us a Child is born, Unto us a Son is given; And the government will be upon His shoulder. And His name will be called Wonderful, Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. 7 Of the increase of His government and peace There will be no end, Upon the throne of David and over His kingdom, To order it and establish it with judgment and justice From that time forward, even forever. The zeal of the Lord of hosts will perform this.
Hebrews 4:9-10 There remains therefore a rest for the people of God. 10 For he who has entered His rest has himself also ceased from his works as God did from His.
The majestic Messianic prophecy of Isaiah 9 culminates in a powerful declaration: “The zeal of the Lord of hosts will perform this.” Not might. Not maybe. Not if we work hard enough. It will be done — because God Himself is passionate to see it through. The Hebrew word for “zeal” here is קִנְאָה (kin’ah), which also means jealousy or burning passion. This is not passive interest — it’s the fiery determination of the LORD of Hosts to establish His Kingdom. The same fiery zeal that struck Egypt with plagues—shattering the power of false gods, that parted the Red Sea and made a way where there was none, that birthed a nation from the womb of slavery, and that drove the Son of God to the cross at Calvary — is the very zeal that will fulfill every promise declared in Isaiah 9.
This kingdom of justice, righteousness, and peace is not the result of human effort or religious striving. It is divinely initiated, sustained, and completed. That’s why the passage ends not with a command to act, but with an invitation to rest — an echo of Shabbat, the seventh-day rest established at creation and later given as a covenant sign to Israel. And yet, that weekly rest was always pointing to something greater: a future, eternal rest in the Messiah, our Sar Shalom (Prince of Peace).
The Book of Hebrews tells us there remains a Sabbath rest for the people of God (Hebrews 4:9-10). This isn’t merely about a day off — it’s a prophetic promise that in Yeshua (Jesus), we cease from striving, just as God did from His works. In Messiah, the striving to earn your salvation is finished. The striving to prove, to fix, to control is silenced by the finished work of the cross. Yeshua didn’t just observe Shabbat — He embodies it. He is our rest. Our stillness. Our restoration. He is the Lord of Shabbat!
Every Shabbat you observe becomes more than a tradition — it becomes a prophetic rehearsal of what is to come: a world restored, a people redeemed, a King enthroned, and a kingdom at peace. In a world of exhaustion, He offers rest. In a world filled with confusion, He offers divine wisdom. In the midst of chaos, He reigns as our Sar Shalom.
So lay down your burdens, beloved. The Kingdom will not rise by your striving — but by the zeal of the Lord of hosts. Rest in Him. Worship Him. Trust in Him. Let Shabbat be more than a ritual — let it be your weekly return to the heart of heaven. For your King has come, and His zeal is accomplishing what no man can. He is your Shabbat. He is your Peace. He is your eternal Rest. And in Him, every storm will cease and every striving soul will find peace. Maranatha — our Prince of Peace is coming on the clouds of heaven!
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[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]Yeshua (Jesus) used the fig tree—a familiar symbol in Israel’s botanical and prophetic world—as a teaching tool to awaken spiritual discernment. The fig tree, known for losing all its leaves in winter and budding again in spring, became a natural signpost to mark the changing seasons. In the same way, Jesus gave His disciples prophetic markers to discern a coming shift: wars, famines, false messiahs, persecution, lawlessness, and the global preaching of the gospel (Matthew 24:4–14).
On July 4th, America remembers a bold declaration — a break from tyranny, a longing for a better government, and the birth of a nation built on liberty. The Founders risked everything to establish a new way of life, one where freedom could flourish. Their cry was clear: “We will no longer be ruled by kings who oppress–we will be governed by laws that reflect liberty and justice.”
In a world full of uncertainty, this verse from Romans stands like a lighthouse in the storm: “The God of hope…” Not just the God who gives hope, but the very source of it. When everything around us seems shaken — economies falter, nations rage, relationships strain — it is the God of hope who remains unshaken and unchanging.
When Yeshua (Jesus) spoke these words not only to the seventy He sent ahead of Him, but to every disciple who follows Him into the world, it’s a striking picture: fields overflowing with a harvest, ready to be gathered. The problem isn’t the readiness of the harvest — it’s the shortage of workers willing to go.
This piercing question opens Psalm 11 like a cry from the heart in troubled times. 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?
After one of the greatest spiritual victories in all of Scripture–calling down fire from heaven on Mount Carmel and turning the hearts of Israel back to God–Elijah finds himself blindsided by fear.
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.