Psalm 92:10 [Amplified] But my horn [my emblem of strength and power] You have exalted like that of a wild ox; I am anointed with fresh oil [for Your service].
Luke 11:11-13 What father among you, if his son asks for a fish, will instead of a fish give him a serpent; or if he asks for an egg, will give him a scorpion? If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!”
As my wife and I have been redeployed to the United States for a season we’ve traveled over 150,000 miles since 2020. Vehicles which deliver the kind of distances we travel need regular oil changes to stay reliable. So, our vehicles have enjoyed innumerable pit stops.
In the Scriptures the terms “oil” and “anointing” are common representations and/or invocations of the Spirit of God. The Amplified Bible’s rendering for Psalm 92:10 says that David was “anointed with fresh oil” for YHVH’s service.
The Gospels reveal that Yeshua (Jesus) often spent all night in prayer. No doubt, in addition to pouring out His heart to the Father and seeking wisdom, the Lord was also receiving fresh anointing, a holy “oil change” if you will, for the next day’s labor.
The famed preacher, D.L. Moody once said, ““Before we pray that God would fill us, I believe we ought to pray Him to empty us.”
During this month of Elul, our focus on repentance may involve emptying ourselves through deep confession and pouring out our hearts. It may also be a time of acknowledging our weakness and frailty and realizing again, our spiritual poverty. But the goal of all this is a deep and fresh infilling of holy “oil”; a renewed and wonderful apprehension of resurrection life, from God’s Holy Spirit. Without Him we can do nothing, but in and with Him we can do all things. Pour out your heart before Him, and be replenished with a fresh anointing for loving service in His power.
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[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]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.
A beachhead is the first critical objective in a military invasion–the spot where a force lands on enemy territory and secures a position for greater advancement. It’s the place of breakthrough. And it’s also the place of fiercest resistance.
David wrote Psalm 3 while running for his life — betrayed, heartbroken, and hunted by his own son, Absalom. The weight of rebellion wasn’t just political; it was personal. His household had turned against him. Friends became foes. Loyal hearts grew cold. The throne he once held was now surrounded by enemies, and the whispers grew louder: “There is no salvation for him in God.”
Psalm 2 is a divine announcement — a heavenly decree that demands the world’s attention. It begins with a question: “Why do the nations rage, and the peoples plot in vain?” (Ps. 2:1). The nations rise up, not against injustice or tyranny, but against the rule of God’s Meshiach (Messiah). That Anointed is Yeshua — the Son whom the Father has set on His holy hill in Zion (Ps. 2:6). The psalm strips away all pretense and exposes the heart of human rebellion: it is a refusal to be ruled by His Messiah.
Psalm 1 opens with a sobering warning about the quiet, deadly slide into sin. The man without God doesn’t become a scorner overnight — he drifts there gradually. First, he walks in ungodly counsel, entertaining worldly thoughts. Then, he stands in the path of sinners, embracing their way of life. Finally, he sits in the seat of the scornful, hardened in heart and mocking what is sacred. This progression — from a man without God to scorner — reveals how small compromises grow into full rebellion, dulling the conscience and deadening the soul.
Last night marked the beginning of Shavuot–a feast that many Christians recognize as Pentecost, the day the Holy Spirit was poured out in Acts 2. But the roots of Shavuot stretch back much further. Long before that upper room encounter–about 1,500 years earlier–Shavuot was the day God gave the law to Moses on Mount Sinai, writing His commandments on tablets of stone.
In a world trembling with uncertainty–political unrest, economic turmoil, natural disasters–God is speaking again. Not in whispers, but with the shaking that reorders lives, redefines kingdoms, and removes everything that cannot stand in the presence of His glory. He is preparing us for a kingdom that cannot be moved. But in the midst of the shaking, there is rest — a deep, unshakable rest reserved for the people of God. Not rest as the world gives — temporary relief or distraction — but the kind that anchors the soul in the storm, the kind that is rooted in Yeshua (Jesus), our rest.