Joshua 1:9 Have I not commanded you? Be strong and of good courage; do not be afraid, nor be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.
Just as a bird needs both wings to fly, a victorious life requires both faith and obedience. In Joshua, God calls Joshua to lead Israel into the Promised Land, not just with bold confidence but with complete dependence on His Word. Faith believes what God says; obedience acts upon it. One without the other stalls the journey. This moment wasn’t just about crossing into the promise land — it was about stepping into covenant reality, where trust in God’s promise was matched by surrender to God’s command.
Faith doesn’t wait at the edge—it steps in, trusting God is already there. It doesn’t demand proof; it takes God at His Word and moves forward. That’s when the miraculous happens—the waters part, the walls fall—not before we move, but as we move. “Be strong and courageous,” God says. Real faith acts even when things are unclear, not because the path is easy, but because the promise is sure. Victory begins the moment we stop waiting and start walking.
Israel’s journey proved that faith must move. The priests stepped into the Jordan before it parted. They marched around Jericho before a single crack appeared. Persistent faith led to a breakthrough. On the seventh day, with weariness surely mounting, they marched around seven times more — then came the shout, the crash, and the conquest. True faith obeys repeatedly, even when mocked or misunderstood, trusting that God’s promises are just around the next lap.
Even Rahab reminds us that no one is too far for faith to reach. Her scarlet cord was a lifeline of faith in God’s Word, resulting in her salvation and legacy. The same faith that topples walls welcomes the outsider. One act of trust — no matter how unlikely the vessel — can change everything. God is not looking for pedigree, but for hearts willing to believe and obey.
Yet obedience must be exact. Achan’s hidden sin halted Israel’s advance. Saul’s partial obedience cost him a kingdom. The little compromises — what we excuse or ignore — can have significant consequences. Obedience requires attention, not assumption. Even Joshua failed to seek the Lord’s counsel and made a costly treaty with the Gibeonites. The lesson? Even good intentions without divine direction can lead to bondage.
Ultimately, faith and obedience are inseparable—like two wings of the same bird, they must work together to carry us forward. Joshua fulfilled his calling not just by believing God’s Word, but by acting on it with unwavering obedience. The promise was already given. The victory was already secured. But the possession of it required both trust and action.
So it is with us. We must believe enough to move—and obey enough to persevere. When faith takes the first step and obedience stays the course, nothing can stop us from walking in the fullness of God’s promises. Rise up. The land is before you. Take it.
Copyright 1999-2025 Worthy Devotions. This devotional was originally published on Worthy Devotions and was reproduced with permission.
How to display the above article within the Worthy Suite WordPress Plugin.
[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]Life wears us down. We live in a world of relentless motion, pressure, and performance. Yeshua (Jesus) doesn’t deny this. Instead, He speaks directly to those who are “weary and heavy-laden.” The Greek for “weary” (kopiao) means utterly worn out—soul-tired, not just physically fatigued. The burdens He mentions aren’t only external tasks but inward baggage: guilt, shame, expectations, and hidden wounds. Yeshua’s call isn’t merely an invitation to stop—it’s a call to come. He offers what no one else can: rest that restores.
When we read the promises of God, we must read them the way we ourselves want to be heard—in full context. Just as we expect others to understand our words in light of what we’ve said before, God expects us to interpret His promises in light of all He has revealed in His Word.
A few days ago, I shared a quote from B.J. Willhite, and today I want to delve deeper into his powerful insight. He wrote, “The law of prayer is the highest law of the universe—it can overcome the other laws by sanctioning God’s intervention. When implemented properly, the law of prayer permits God to exercise His sovereignty in a world under the dominion of a rebel with free will, in a universe governed by natural law.”
When God spoke to Abram, the command was clear yet profoundly personal. The Hebrew phrase lech lecha carries a dual meaning: “go forth” and “go for yourself.” This journey wasn’t just a physical relocation; it was a spiritual pilgrimage—a call to walk out God’s will and to walk into his divine inheritance. Abram’s journey was not merely about distance but about destiny.
In the stillness of a desert night, surrounded by cut offerings and the lingering scent of sacrifice, Abram beheld something utterly sacred — God Himself, in the form of a smoking oven and a burning torch, passing between the pieces of a covenant. It was not Abram who walked through the blood-soaked path. It was God alone. And that changes everything.
Tonight we’ll participate in the Independence Day celebration in Israel — and what a party! — shows, fireworks, music, dancing, everything under the sun!
Yesterday, Israel observed Yom HaShoah—Holocaust Remembrance Day—honoring the memory of the six million Jews who perished. Tragically, a recent poll reveals that nearly half of Israelis fear the possibility of another Holocaust. In light of this sobering reality, I want to share a powerful story of one remarkable woman who rescued 2,500 Jewish children from the ghettos during World War II.