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]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.
The day before Israel launched Operation Rising Lion, Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu stood before the ancient stones of the Western Wall and placed a prayer in its crevices. He chose Numbers 23:24—a verse that declares a timeless truth: God calls Israel and His people everywhere to rise with strength, purpose, and courage, no matter what challenges they face.
When we read the Beatitudes, we catch a glimpse of Yeshua’s heart and the values that define His Kingdom. His words unveil the kind of life that God calls blessed—marked by humility, mercy, purity of heart, a hunger for righteousness, peacemaking, and faithful endurance in the face of suffering.
We often celebrate beginnings—new chapters, breakthroughs, divine appointments. But in God’s economy, every true beginning requires a holy crossing. Before the Hebrews could enter the Promised Land, they had to leave Egypt. Before they entered the Promised Land, they had to cross over the Red Sea. And before Abraham could receive God’s promises, he had to obey a single command: “Leave.”
When the children of Israel wandered in the wilderness for forty years, they traversed a rugged, unpredictable landscape — mile after mile of mountains, valleys, rocks, and desert sands — as they journeyed from slavery in Egypt to the Promised Land.
For many, God remains a theory—an idea borrowed from tradition, deduced from the cosmos, or tucked quietly into the corners of a creed. He is believed in from afar, but is rarely encountered. Even among believers, it’s not uncommon to live with a distant reverence for God while lacking a vibrant, personal communion with Him.
God has always longed for intimacy with us. He formed us for Himself–to walk with Him, to know Him, to delight in His Presence. This is the very heartbeat of creation: relationship, not religion. Yet sin drove a wedge between us. A veil was drawn, shutting out the light of His face and placing distance where there was once communion.