2 Kings 2:14 Then he took the mantle of Elijah that had fallen from him, and struck the water, and said, “Where is the LORD God of Elijah?” And when he also had struck the water, it was divided this way and that; and Elisha crossed over.
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.
Elisha’s heart longed for the God who had empowered Elijah–the God who shuts the heavens, calls down fire, feeds the hungry through ravens, and defends His name before kings and nations. Mighty acts of faith marked Elijah’s life because his confidence rested in the Almighty, not in himself. And when his race was run, God’s power was no less present, no less ready to act, no less able to raise up a new servant and continue His work. The God of Elijah is the God of life and death, of judgment and mercy, of fire and rain, of heaven and earth — and He is unchanged today.
When Elisha stepped forward, he met his first obstacle — the swollen Jordan, barring his way. But he did not shrink back. He lifted Elijah’s mantle, struck the water, and cried out, “Where is the Lord God of Elijah?” And the God of Elijah answered. The river parted. The path opened. And Elisha stepped into his calling. So it will be for us. When our Jordans rise up, when leaders disappoint, when challenges seem insurmountable, let our hearts cry not for men, but for the God who never fails.
The God of Elisha revealed Himself not just in mighty acts, but in tender mercies — healing poisoned waters (2 Kings 2:19-22), multiplying a widow’s oil (2 Kings 4:1-7), feeding a multitude (2 Kings 4:42-44), restoring the dead to life (2 Kings 4:18-37), making iron float (2 Kings 6:1-7). This is the God who steps into our kitchens and workshops, our debts and needs, our hidden battles and silent cries. He is as present in the ordinary as in the extraordinary, as near in our weakness as in our victories.
Beloved, today God calls us to lift our eyes from men to Himself. Leaders may fall, heroes may stumble, but the Lord God of Elijah and Elisha remains. He is the same yesterday, today, and forever. He waits for us to trust Him afresh, to cry out for His presence, to believe in His power — not in our strength, not in human vessels, but in Him alone.
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[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]In the Hebraic understanding, a name isn’t just a label—it reveals essence, identity, and destiny. Isaiah doesn’t say these are merely descriptions of the Messiah; he says His Name shall be called — meaning this is who He is. When we declare these names, we are not offering poetic praise — we are calling upon real attributes of the living King. In just one verse, the prophet unveils the depth of Messiah’s personhood, showing us that this child is no ordinary child. He is the fulfillment of heaven’s promise and the revelation of God’s nature.
In a world wearied by the failures of men, Isaiah 9:6 offers a startling promise of hope and strength: “The government shall be upon His shoulder.” This is not the language of politics as we know it — it’s the language of divine dominion. The Hebrew word for “government” here is misrah (מִשְׂרָה), a word so unique it appears only in these two verses—Isaiah 9:6 and 9:7. Unlike more common Hebrew words for government — mamlachah or memshalah, misrah speaks of a rare and elevated rule—divinely ordained, gentle in character, and eternal in scope. This is a government not imposed, but carried. Not tyrannical, but righteous and restorative.
The prophet Isaiah begins with language so familiar that it’s often read too quickly. Yet within this brief phrase lies a depth of mystery and majesty that anchors the entire gospel. “For unto us a Child is born” speaks of an earthly event–Messiah’s humanity. He was born as all men are born, taking on flesh, entering a specific culture, time, and lineage. The Hebrew word for “born” (yalad) reinforces His full identification with us. This is the miracle of the incarnation: God wrapped in the vulnerability of a newborn child.
When the Lord called us to be His ambassadors, He didn’t merely give us a message — He gave us a lifestyle to embody it. An ambassador is not just a messenger, but a living representation of the Kingdom they serve. That means our behavior, words, and example all matter deeply.
As ambassadors of Christ, we don’t just represent His Kingdom–we reflect His heart. Paul’s words in Colossians 4:5-6 are not just good advice; they’re a commissioning. We are called to walk wisely among those who do not yet know Christ, recognizing that every interaction is a divine opportunity.
“All this is from God…” These words usher us into the breathtaking reality that salvation is not born of human effort, wisdom, or willpower — it is entirely the work of God. From beginning to end, it is His plan, His initiative, His unrelenting grace. Through Yeshua (Jesus), God stepped into our brokenness and reconciled us to Himself, repairing the relationship that sin had shattered. Reconciliation is not merely a theological concept — it is the restoration of intimacy with the Father. We did not ascend to Him in holiness; He descended to us in mercy. The Creator did not wait for us to find our way back. No, He came down in Yeshua, arms stretched wide in love, calling us home.
In the age of social media, where hot takes go viral, outrage spreads in seconds, and comment sections become battlegrounds, James offers a divine pattern that stands in stark contrast to the digital frenzy. His instruction is timeless but urgently needed today: be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to anger. These three commands — revolutionary yet straightforward — cut through the noise of our reaction-driven culture and call us to a Spirit-led posture in a screen-lit world.