1 Peter 3:8-9 Finally, be all like-minded, compassionate, loving as brothers, tenderhearted, courteous, not rendering evil for evil, or reviling for reviling; but instead blessing; knowing that to this were you called, that you may inherit a blessing.
As we approach Resurrection Day this Sunday, our hearts are drawn once again to the glorious mystery at the center of our faith—that death was not the end. On that first Resurrection morning, everything changed.
In the days of Yeshua (Jesus), the cross was an instrument of death, and crucifixion, a horrible method of torture. Over the next 200 years, in light of the Lord’s resurrection, the cross became identified with Christian faith and was transformed into a symbol of life and hope. Yeshua was able to turn it upside down, transforming an instrument of death into a symbol of life.
The tomb, a house of death where His body lay for three days, became the exact location where death was destroyed forever, replaced by resurrection life, an entirely new kind of life with no decay, sickness, or imperfection. In His death and resurrection, Yeshua inverted the very nature of biological reality and turned the tomb from a house of bones into an empty place of testimony to resurrection life. He turned it upside down!
This “inversion” of reality is a pattern of God’s activity. It is a “way” in which He works, a convention of Divine intervention into human affairs. And we ourselves are permanently invited to participate in this activity in innumerable ways.
Yeshua is, by His indwelling Spirit, through faith, giving us the authority, opportunity, and power to turn things upside down and inside out. Not indiscriminately, without His explicit guidance and direction, but through discernment, wisdom, and often real endurance, we experience and participate in turning tragedy into triumph, misery into joy, failure into success, mourning into dancing, and death into life. We turn curses into blessings, loss into gain, despair into hope, and even hatred into agape love! Praise God! For by His power and will, we too, can turn it upside down!
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[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]Elijah had just come through one of the most intense seasons of his life. He had called down fire from heaven on Mount Carmel, seen the prophets of Baal defeated, and yet found himself running in fear from Jezebel, exhausted and discouraged. In the cave at Horeb, he cried out, believing he was alone and that all was lost. But it was there—in the still small voice—that God revealed His presence and His plan.
Over the weekend, the United States launched a bold operation aimed at ending Iran’s nuclear program. In the quiet of the night, unseen by human eyes, B-2 Spirit bombers initiated Operation Midnight Hammer—a precision strike designed to eliminate hidden threats before they could bring harm. With unmatched stealth, they cut through the darkness, delivering a decisive blow against danger.
Every true move of revival begins where few look for it—at the hidden brook, in the quiet place of God’s pruning. Cherith (נַחַל כְּרִית) means to cut off, to separate, to covenant. Before Elijah could stand on Mount Carmel and call down fire, he had to be separated, set apart for God’s purposes.
Before God’s servants can stand in high places before men, they must first bow low before Him. Elijah, fresh from proclaiming God’s judgment to Ahab, might have felt indispensable to God’s plan. Yet the following command was unexpected: “Hide yourself.” The brook Cherith became Elijah’s place of humbling, where pride was stripped away, self-reliance was broken, and his soul learned the sweetness of depending on God alone.
God’s servants must learn to walk by faith–one step at a time. This is a simple lesson, yet one that challenges even the most faithful. Consider Elijah: before he left his quiet home in Thisbe to stand before King Ahab with the word of the Lord, how many questions must have stirred his heart!
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.