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]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.
God has always longed for intimacy with us. He formed us for Himself–to walk with Him, to know Him, to delight in His Presence. This is the very heartbeat of creation: relationship, not religion. Yet sin drove a wedge between us. A veil was drawn, shutting out the light of His face and placing distance where there was once communion.