1 Peter 5:8-10 Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil walks about like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour. Resist him, steadfast in the faith, knowing that the same sufferings are experienced by your brotherhood in the world. But may the God of all grace, who called us to His eternal glory by Christ Jesus, after you have suffered a while, perfect, establish, strengthen, and settle you.
The Jewish leaders of His time rejected Yeshua (Jesus) when He first came. He didn’t meet their expectations. They were expecting a Messiah who would bring relief from the Romans, restore the Kingdom of David, and usher in an era of tranquility throughout the world. It is probable that their intense jealousy of Yeshua blinded them to the numerous passages in the Tenach (OT) which describe Messiah as a suffering servant, since they were certainly aware of those passages.
The Scriptures present two pictures of Messiah, leaving bible interpreters with a dilemma to explain. Zechariah 9:9 portrays him riding a donkey into Jerusalem, lowly and humble; Daniel 7:13 refers to the Messiah as coming on the clouds of heaven. Some of the rabbis concluded there must be two Messiahs – Mashiach ben Yosef – the Suffering Servant, and Mashiach ben David – the conquering king, bringing judgment to the wicked, restoring the Temple and the Kingdom to Israel. The truth is, one Messiah, two advents.
When Yeshua (Jesus) failed to fulfill the Jewish expectation of restoring the Kingdom of David, he was dismissed as Messiah. Their own lack of humility, their jealousy and self-centered pride caused them to miss what should have been obvious from the scriptures, that Messiah had to come first to identify with us, and then through suffering and death, break the power of sin, before he could restore the Davidic Kingdom.
Is it possible for our expectations to be likewise colored or even contaminated by sin? We ought not to avoid the question. If our hearts are set in a self-centered expectation of victory that fails to apprehend the suffering to which WE too are called, we can make the same mistake the rabbis made, and end up rejecting the true Messiah. While it’s true that our ultimate victory is assured, we can never forget that the journey to that victory is a narrow path fraught with all the dangers of real warfare, with deadly enemies.
Check your expectations…what are they based upon? Are there selfish or carnal motives in your expectations of God? If Yeshua said following him would be a narrow path with a cross on your back, then don’t presume your victories until they have passed through the purifying fires of suffering. This is simply true fellowship with Him, and leads to the greatest glorious joys and triumphs.
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[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]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.
One night a house caught fire and a young boy was forced to flee flames by jumping to the ground from the roof. His father stood on the ground below with outstretched arms, calling to his son, “Jump! I’ll catch you.” But the boy was afraid — he couldn’t see his father — all he could see was flame, smoke, and blackness. He was afraid. Still, his father kept yelling: “Jump son! I will catch you!” But the boy refused, crying, “Daddy, I can’t see you!” His father replied, “It’s ok son — I can see you — and that’s all that matters!”