Proverbs 24:16 for the righteous falls seven times and rises again, but the wicked stumble in times of calamity.
Counselors, encouragers, and people who offer care to others often encounter those whose past failures threaten to define them and hinder their development, healing, and sanctification. Our enemy capitalizes on our failures and regrets, pressing home the current influence of what we could have, would have, or should have done, if only we were wiser, more courageous, honest, or godly.
There is, however, an internal posture that is invincible against the pile of regrets and accusations the devil’s crew levels at us. Its basis is the new foundation on which we stand and live: the righteousness of Another, a perfectly righteous and holy Savior, whose righteousness is imparted to us by repentance and faith.
Although the above passage is from the Old Testament, its reference to the “righteous” carries exponential significance in light of the New Covenant. The LORD God clearly defines those who identify with Him as individuals who “keep getting up, keep trying, keep pressing through, seven times over; (7, the perfect number).” It seems that true righteousness inspires perseverance. You may have seen it in your own life…
Imperfection has been infused into our world since the Fall. Our mortal bodies will not in this life cease to be prone to failure, stumbling, and missing the mark, giving plenty of opportunity for regret, dejection, or self-pity. And while genuine mourning, godly sorrow, deep contrition, and pouring out our hearts to Him are blessed and appreciated by our compassionate Lord, He does not leave us to abide in depression or defeat. In fact, He assures us that “All things work together for the good of those who love Him…”
Take note again of the source of your staying power. You are a new creature whose past or present failures cannot define your identity. God is faithful and will inspire and reward your persistence in pressing through even the most difficult challenges and circumstances, past or present. Only believe and press on…He “is able to keep you from falling, and to present you faultless before the presence of His glory, with exceeding great joy…” [Jude 1:24]
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[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]As we are entering some of the most turbulent times in history, we’ve been receiving an unbelievable amount of email expressing concern about the future. But I want to tell you a little something – the future is VICTORY!
How often, in all the issues we have to deal with talking with people, we know or we feel we are right; our idea, our position, our interpretation is it, and we’re ready to fight for it…
Life wears us down. We live in a world of relentless motion, pressure, and performance. Yeshua (Jesus) doesn’t deny this. Instead, He speaks directly to those who are “weary and heavy-laden.” The Greek for “weary” (kopiao) means utterly worn out—soul-tired, not just physically fatigued. The burdens He mentions aren’t only external tasks but inward baggage: guilt, shame, expectations, and hidden wounds. Yeshua’s call isn’t merely an invitation to stop—it’s a call to come. He offers what no one else can: rest that restores.
When we read the promises of God, we must read them the way we ourselves want to be heard—in full context. Just as we expect others to understand our words in light of what we’ve said before, God expects us to interpret His promises in light of all He has revealed in His Word.
A few days ago, I shared a quote from B.J. Willhite, and today I want to delve deeper into his powerful insight. He wrote, “The law of prayer is the highest law of the universe—it can overcome the other laws by sanctioning God’s intervention. When implemented properly, the law of prayer permits God to exercise His sovereignty in a world under the dominion of a rebel with free will, in a universe governed by natural law.”
When God spoke to Abram, the command was clear yet profoundly personal. The Hebrew phrase lech lecha carries a dual meaning: “go forth” and “go for yourself.” This journey wasn’t just a physical relocation; it was a spiritual pilgrimage—a call to walk out God’s will and to walk into his divine inheritance. Abram’s journey was not merely about distance but about destiny.
In the stillness of a desert night, surrounded by cut offerings and the lingering scent of sacrifice, Abram beheld something utterly sacred — God Himself, in the form of a smoking oven and a burning torch, passing between the pieces of a covenant. It was not Abram who walked through the blood-soaked path. It was God alone. And that changes everything.