Isaiah 61:10 I will greatly rejoice in the LORD, my soul shall be joyful in my God; for he hath clothed me with the garments of salvation, he hath covered me with the robe of righteousness, as a bridegroom decketh himself with ornaments, and as a bride adorneth herself with her jewels.
Here’s another interesting Hebrew word parallel. The Hebrew word for “love” or “affection”, “chiba”, is formed by the same root letters as the word, “chova”, “obligation”, “debt”, or “duty”. In Hebrew, the only difference between these two words is a few vowel points. But you say, “Isn’t love the very opposite of obligation !?” Well, yes and no. The Hebrew language has a wonderful way of relating concepts which seem incompatible.
The common romantic view of love in films and novels draws heavily on strong feelings of affection or passion. Even our love for God can flow from those kinds of feelings. (The apostle Peter was filled with them shortly before he denied the Lord three times.) But love based on obligation is another matter, and it’s significant that the Jewish marriage contract, the “Ketubah”, contains a list of “obligations” that a husband is required to fulfill for his wife. He might be passionately “in love” with her when he signs this contract, yet the wisdom of experience says this passion may wither with time, so the marriage ceremony formally “obligates” him to his spouse. By accepting these “obligations”, he agrees that love is nurtured by commitment.
One Rabbi commented: “Love which flows from obligation endures, but when obligation follows love, both are doomed.”
Our bridal relationship to Yeshua (Jesus) also reflects this reality. His “obligation” to us flowed from an irrevocable decision of His will and commitment to love us…which cost Him His human life. We might speculate on the Lord’s feelings for us, but we don’t have to wonder at all about His obligation, or the absolute security we have in His love for us. Our love for Him can be the same. Feelings of love are wonderful. But they also come and go. And there’ll be times when we wonder, “Where’s that lovin’ feeling? Is God really there?” And that’s when the sure foundation of commitment will arise in the heart of every true lover.
God’s great love for us is expressed in His commitment; to cover our debt of sin; guide us through this earthly life, and be our eternal Heavenly Husband. Cleansed by His blood and filled with His Spirit we can love Him and one another with the same commitment. The feelings will follow.
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[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]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.
When Elijah cast his cloak over Elisha in the field, it wasn’t just a symbolic act — it was a divine call. Elisha understood this and responded not with delay or excuse, but with decisive action. After asking to say goodbye to his parents, he returned, slaughtered his oxen, and used the wooden yokes as fuel for the sacrifice. Then he gave the meal to the people and walked away from everything familiar to follow the prophet Elijah.
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.