John 9:4 I must work the works of Him who sent Me while it is day; the night is coming when no one can work.
Right now, as I pen these words, over millions of Americans are under an unprecedented severe winter advisory. Meteorologists are anticipating records to be broken in this historic storm.
All this talk of snow reminded me of when I was growing up in Baltimore, Maryland during the winter.
I always wished for a snow day so that I didn’t have to go to school the following day. I would anxiously watch the news late into the evening for any hint of snow. Just a ½ inch was usually enough for schools to close!
Aside from the weather report, there was one sign that almost always meant freedom the next day: if Mom and Dad rushed to the grocery store because on the East Coast, the slightest hint of snow sends everyone running for milk, eggs, and bread to be sure they’re ready for the storm.
Anyone with their eyes half-open can see the clouds on the horizon, and we ought to be watching and preparing as carefully as I used to do growing up in Baltimore.
We need to be carefully watching, and at the same time, actively working for the Kingdom, because the day is rapidly approaching when no more work can be done! So take it to heart, continue to press through, press on, and by all means, do not grow weary in well doing — for you shall truly reap if you do not faint!
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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.