2 Corinthians 7:1 Having, therefore, these promises, dearly beloved, let us cleanse ourselves from all filthiness of the flesh and spirit, perfecting holiness in the fear of God.
As we celebrated Yom Teruah (Feast of Trumpets) and are in the midst of “Yamin Noraim” or the days of awe, the days between the Feast of Trumpets and Yom Kippur, it is the season of repentance.
This is the season that the shofar (rams horn) is blown to heed the call of warning to repent from our sins and be clean. The shofar’s unique sounding blast is a wake-up call to all who will hear.
Those of you who know what a shofar looks like, know it’s quite intriguing. As a matter of fact, I have a shofar displayed on a shelf in my living room as a centerpiece (and a reminder) and most who enter often comment on its beauty. My wife makes sure our shofar is dusted and shined it to keep it looking its best.
However, I don’t know how many of you have ever smelled the odor of a ram’s horn before it’s properly cleaned, but I can tell you from personal experience that it is by far one of the most putrid, revolting and rancid smelling things I’ve smelled in my lifetime. And it is a common dilemma among shofar owners as to how best to rid it of that awful smell. Some say washing it out with vinegar does the trick, others say soaking your shofar in alcohol guarantees a clean smell, and still others firmly stand by some strange hodgepodge of ingredients they’ve concocted.
Interestingly enough, the Hebrew root of the word shofar is the word “shifra”, which means to beautify, which is directly related to the Hebrew word “shapair” which means to improve!
Now, I think most of us remember to wash our outward bodies in order to look and smell nice as we go out into the world around us. But how many of us are walking around just gorgeous on the outside but the stench of sin reeking within us?!! As the shofar blasts this season, let us heed the call to improve and beautify ourselves, not only outwardly but from our ignorance of and rebellion against God’s perfect will for our lives.
There is much work to be done for the Kingdom and we can’t accomplish any of it with our outward beauty! Let’s ask the Lord to do some revealing and cleansing in our hearts and lives as we continue in the season of repentance.
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[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]These verses capture one of the most profound Messianic truths in all of Scripture. What man cast aside, God exalted. What the builders saw as flawed and unfit, God chose as the foundation of His eternal plan. Yeshua (Jesus), the rejected One, is the very cornerstone upon which salvation, identity, and destiny are built. This is more than a theological concept — it’s a divine reversal that reveals the heart of redemption. Rejection by man does not disqualify–it often qualifies you for God’s greatest purposes.
These verses are far more than ancient lyrics — they are a spiritual invitation. The psalmist doesn’t just admire the gate — he pleads for it to open. “Open to me the gates of righteousness…” This is the cry of a heart that longs for access to God, not by merit, but by mercy. In Hebrew thought, gates represent transition points — thresholds between the common and the holy, the outside and the inner court, the temporal and the eternal. These are not man-made doors — they are divine entrances into the presence and promises of the LORD.
As we continue our study in Psalm 118, I want to take a deep dive into verses 17-18, where the psalmist makes one of the boldest declarations in all of Scripture: “I shall not die, but live, and declare the works of the LORD.” This isn’t the voice of someone untouched by pain — it’s the cry of someone who has been through the fire and come out declaring God’s faithfulness. This statement is not a denial of suffering; it’s a defiance of death. It’s the resolve of a heart that’s been chastened, refined, and pressed, yet remains confident in the God who preserves life — not just for survival, but for purpose.
Over the past two devotionals, we heard the song of the redeemed and stood at the wells of salvation. We saw how strength, song, and salvation flow from Yeshua Himself — how the joy of drawing from His presence is not just a poetic promise but a lifeline for our day. Yet today, we stand at a prophetic threshold. Something has shifted. Something has broken open. We are not only being refreshed — we are being awakened and called.
Yesterday, we heard the anthem of the redeemed rise like a trumpet blast: “The LORD is my strength and song, and He has become my salvation.” We explored how this was more than personal — it was prophetic, Messianic, and generational. We saw Yeshua not only as our Deliverer but as the very embodiment of God’s strength, the melody of our praise, and the fulfillment of every promise. We stood in awe as tents of rejoicing rose in the midst of warfare, and households became sanctuaries of celebration. But today, we go deeper — we step to the well.
There’s a reason this verse resounds like a national anthem of the redeemed. It’s not just a personal declaration—it’s a generational cry that echoes back to Moses at the Red Sea (Exodus 15:2) and forward to the final deliverance of Israel. The Hebrew word for salvation—Yeshua—makes this verse unmistakably Messianic. It isn’t a vague deliverance. It is the revelation of Yeshua (Jesus), the Deliverer, who embodies strength, becomes our song, and stands as the fulfillment of God’s redemptive plan.
The cry that shattered the stillness of Golgotha—“My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?” (Psalm 22:1; Matthew 27:46)—was not a random cry of despair, but the deliberate voice of Yeshua pointing to Scripture. As He hung on the tree, bearing the sin of the world, He invoked the ancient words of David—not only identifying Himself as the righteous sufferer, but signaling that Psalm 22 was unfolding before their very eyes. In that moment, heaven and earth bore witness to a divine mystery: the Holy One, seemingly abandoned, was fulfilling a prophecy written a millennium earlier. Yeshua did not merely suffer—He fulfilled every word, every shadow, every stroke of divine prophecy.