Song of Solomon 6:3 (ASV) I am my beloved’s, and my beloved is mine; He feedeth his flock among the lilies,
As we continue our study for Elul, a month set apart for repentance in preparation for the fall feasts, we find a message hidden in the four Hebrew letters spelling the name of this special month. Alef-Lamed-Vav-Lamed form an “acronym” for a well-known passage in the Song of Solomon: Ani l-dodi v-dodi li or in English, “I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine.”
This season of reflection and repentance need not only be a time for self-correction, humbling, and turning from sin, but perhaps even more significantly, a season for returning to our first love, turning to our bridegroom with bridal affection, respect and admiration.
We may well be reminded of the wise virgins in Matthew 25. Their great enthusiasm for the soon coming bridegroom moved them to thoughtful preparation for his advent. Deep and expectant love was their motivation. Their foolish sisters were not ready when the night-call came and found themselves outside the wedding banquet with the door shut!
Yeshua said, “Behold I am coming soon!” [Rev.22:7;12] That was nearly 2000 years ago. Can you imagine just how much closer we are to that “soon”? Deal with your sins and clean up your life so you won’t quench the Spirit and find your lamp going out. But even more, remember your first love, rekindle your affection for your Heavenly Bridegroom. Make Elul your month for Divine romance.
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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.