Psalms 118:17-18 I shall not die, but I shall live, and recount the deeds of the LORD. 18 The LORD has disciplined me severely, but he has not given me over to death.
As we continue our study in Psalm 118, I want to take a deep dive into verses 17-18, where the psalmist makes one of the boldest declarations in all of Scripture: “I shall not die, but live, and declare the works of the LORD.” This isn’t the voice of someone untouched by pain — it’s the cry of someone who has been through the fire and come out declaring God’s faithfulness. This statement is not a denial of suffering; it’s a defiance of death. It’s the resolve of a heart that’s been chastened, refined, and pressed, yet remains confident in the God who preserves life — not just for survival, but for purpose.
The Hebrew word for “declare” is סָפַר (saphar) — meaning to proclaim, recount, or record in detail. It’s the same root used for a scribe or storyteller. This isn’t about vague gratitude — it’s about vocal, specific testimony. When God raises you up, He doesn’t do it just for your comfort — He does it so you can bear witness. Your life becomes a scroll on which His faithfulness is written, line by line, miracle by miracle.
This verse carries profound prophetic weight. It prefigures the resurrection of Yeshua (Jesus), who was chastened unto death yet not abandoned to the grave. On the third day, He rose — not in silence, but declaring the works of the LORD. And because we are in Him, His resurrection becomes the pattern of our own. We, too, are raised — not just to walk out of tombs, but to walk into testimony. Not just to breathe — but to proclaim.
Verse 18 reminds us that the Lord may chasten, but He does not abandon. Discipline is a sign of sonship, not disfavor. There are seasons where we are pressed, pruned, and purified — but they are not the end. In fact, they often precede the greatest declarations. What was meant to break you becomes the stage from which you testify. You are not just a survivor–you are a witness.
So what will you do with the life He has preserved? This is your moment to speak. To recount the works of the Lord in the land of the living. Your scars tell stories, and your survival is sacred. Don’t waste your breath on fear. Use it to testify. You are alive for a reason. Rise up and declare it.
You weren’t just rescued — you were raised. And you weren’t just raised — you were commissioned. The enemy came to bury you, but God brought you through the fire so you could speak with authority. Don’t stay silent. Don’t shrink back. Open your mouth and tell the world what God has done. Stand on your feet, even if they’re trembling. Speak through tears, if you must. But speak. Declare His works boldly. Hell lost when Yeshua rose — and it loses again every time you refuse to die in your trial and choose instead to live and declare. Let your life be a trumpet. Let your voice shake the grave. You shall not die — you shall live!
Copyright 1999-2025 Worthy Devotions. This devotional was originally published on Worthy Devotions and was reproduced with permission.
How to display the above article within the Worthy Suite WordPress Plugin.
[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]Elul is unlike any other month. As we mentioned yesterday, it is the 12th month on the civil calendar and the 6th on the prophetic calendar. This dual position gives Elul a unique character — it both closes a cycle and prepares for a new one. That is why the shofar sounds each day during Elul: it is a wake-up call, reminding us to reflect, repent, and return to the Lord before the great and awesome days of the Fall Feasts.
This begins a very special season on God’s calendar — the month of preparation before the Fall Feasts. The month of Elul is unique: it is the 12th month on the civil calendar and the 6th month on the prophetic/biblical calendar. Each day of Elul is marked by the blowing of the shofar, a trumpet call that awakens the soul. These daily blasts prepare our hearts for Yom Teruah (the Feast of Trumpets, Rosh Hashanah) and ultimately for Yom Kippur (the Day of Atonement).
We have come to the final meditation in this journey through the Z’roah, the Arm of the LORD. From the Arm that redeemed Israel out of Egypt, to the Arm that pierced the dragon, to the Arm that is coming with reward — all of these revelations lead us here: the Arm that brings His people into rest.
Isaiah’s vision looks ahead — not only to the Arm of the LORD revealed in the Exodus or even in the cross, but to the day when that same Arm will come again in glory. This is not a picture of brute force but of purposeful arrival. The Z’roah — the Arm of the LORD — comes clothed with strength to establish His rule, and He does not come empty-handed. His reward is with Him, and His work is before Him. The promise is sure: He is coming, and He is rewarding.
Isaiah recalls the Exodus as the supreme display of God’s Z’roah, His Arm of glory. Though the people saw Moses raise his staff over the Red Sea, it was not Moses’ power that split the waters. Behind the prophet’s hand was the Arm of the LORD — majestic, glorious, and unstoppable. The sea parted not to honor Moses, but to exalt the Name of the God who sent him. The Red Sea became a stage for God to reveal His glory, so that His Name would echo through generations as the Deliverer of His people.
Jeremiah uttered these words when everything around him looked hopeless. Babylon’s armies surrounded Jerusalem, the city was on the brink of destruction, and yet God told Jeremiah to buy a field as a prophetic sign that restoration would come. The prophet responded in awe: the God who created the heavens and the earth by His outstretched arm (bizroa netuyah) is not bound by human circumstances. The same God who set galaxies in place and boundaries for the seas is the God who still moves to redeem His people. Truly, nothing is too hard for Him.
Isaiah’s words summon one of the most dramatic images of God’s saving power: the Z’roah — the Arm of the LORD — cutting Rahab in pieces and piercing the dragon.
Here, Rahab is not the woman of Jericho but a poetic name for Egypt (Psalm 87:4), often symbolizing arrogant nations and the dark spiritual powers behind them. In Hebrew poetry, Rahab also evokes the sea monster of chaos, a stand-in for the forces that oppose God’s order. To say the Arm “cut Rahab in pieces” is to recall how God shattered Egypt’s pride and broke the grip of the powers that enslaved His people.