Isaiah 58:8-9a Then shall your light break forth like the dawn, and your healing shall spring up speedily; your righteousness shall go before you; the glory of the LORD shall be your rear guard. 9a Then you shall call, and the LORD will answer; you shall cry, and he will say, ‘Here I am.’
When we hear the word Hineini—”Here I am,” many of us immediately think of the prophet Isaiah in chapter 6, standing before the throne of God, overwhelmed by His holiness. After being cleansed by the burning coal, Isaiah hears the Lord ask, “Whom shall I send?” and responds with the now-famous phrase: “Hineini—Here am I. Send me.”
It’s a powerful moment of surrender and commissioning. But what’s easy to miss is that God Himself also uses this same word in Isaiah 58:9: “Then you will call, and the LORD will answer; you will cry for help, and He will say: ‘Hineini.'”
Selah — Think about that.
We usually think of Hineini as our response to God: “Here I am, send me.” It speaks of readiness, obedience, and surrender—and it is. But in this passage, we see something even more stunning—God says it first.
The God of the universe answers the cries of His people not just with action, but with His presence. He says, “Hineini”—“Here I am.”
When God called Abraham to lay his beloved son on the altar, Abraham didn’t hesitate—he answered, “Hineini.” (Genesis 22:1) When God called Moses from the burning bush to confront Pharaoh and deliver a nation, Moses stood barefoot on holy ground and said, “Hineini.” (Exodus 3:4) When God’s voice thundered through the heavens in Isaiah’s vision, the prophet stepped forward and declared, “Hineini, send me.” (Isaiah 6:8)
But in Isaiah 58, the pattern is reversed. God says to a repentant, humbled nation: “Hineini.” He’s not just summoning us to come near—He is declaring that He already has.
He’s not far off. He’s not waiting for us to earn our way through ritual or religious perfection. He’s watching. He’s waiting. He longs for people who will humble themselves, not just with words but with their whole heart. To a repentant people, God doesn’t just answer prayers—He shows up. Not through an intermediary. Not from a distance. He steps in and says, “Hineini.” I’m here. I’m near. I’m with you.
Ultimately, we see Hineini in Yeshua (Jesus), who knocks at the door of every heart. In the Hebrew New Testament, Revelation 3:20 begins with this very word—Hineni—”Here am I, I stand at the door and knock…” This is a clear echo of God’s continual desire to be present, personal, and available to all who will open to Him.
So yes, let’s be like Isaiah and say, “Hineini–Here am I, Lord, send me.” But let’s never forget–we can say it because God said it first.
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[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]Yeshua (Jesus) used the fig tree—a familiar symbol in Israel’s botanical and prophetic world—as a teaching tool to awaken spiritual discernment. The fig tree, known for losing all its leaves in winter and budding again in spring, became a natural signpost to mark the changing seasons. In the same way, Jesus gave His disciples prophetic markers to discern a coming shift: wars, famines, false messiahs, persecution, lawlessness, and the global preaching of the gospel (Matthew 24:4–14).
On July 4th, America remembers a bold declaration — a break from tyranny, a longing for a better government, and the birth of a nation built on liberty. The Founders risked everything to establish a new way of life, one where freedom could flourish. Their cry was clear: “We will no longer be ruled by kings who oppress–we will be governed by laws that reflect liberty and justice.”
In a world full of uncertainty, this verse from Romans stands like a lighthouse in the storm: “The God of hope…” Not just the God who gives hope, but the very source of it. When everything around us seems shaken — economies falter, nations rage, relationships strain — it is the God of hope who remains unshaken and unchanging.
When Yeshua (Jesus) spoke these words not only to the seventy He sent ahead of Him, but to every disciple who follows Him into the world, it’s a striking picture: fields overflowing with a harvest, ready to be gathered. The problem isn’t the readiness of the harvest — it’s the shortage of workers willing to go.
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.