Psalms 30:11-12 You have turned for me my mourning into dancing; You have put off my sackcloth and clothed me with gladness, To the end that my glory may sing praise to You and not be silent. O Lord my God, I will give thanks to You forever.
This is one of my favorite promises in the Bible — that God turns mourning into dancing! He takes away the anguish of being clothed in sadness and replaces it with gladness. However, notice what God doesn’t do — simply stop your mourning and make it disappear. No, He transforms it…into joy! He turns your sorrow into gladness. He takes your failure and creates success! We serve an awesome and mighty God, who says, “all things work together for good to them that love Him, and to those who are the called according to His purpose.” (Romans 8:28)
Let’s take time to dwell on this promise. Our sorrows, disappointments, tragedies and failures are very real — but they are also “raw material” for a divine transformation that our Lord will accomplish in His time for His glory. And we WILL dance! God will do it. Our part is simply to wait…believe…and cling tightly to this wonderful promise!
Read more Christian Devotions on: Catastrophe, Death, Despondency, Joy, Promises, Trials
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]Every day roughly 150,000 around the world die. Death has a way of raising our spiritual temperature and quickening us to re-evaluate life…especially to ask, “Am I doing all that I can do?”
The first king of Israel, King Saul,was told by God to utterly slay Amalek and his descendants. In blatant disobedience Saul allowed Agag, the king of the Amalekites and the best of the cattle to remain alive. The following day, Saul tried to remedy his disobedience by attempting to sacrifice the best of the cattle to the Lord.
If you’ve ever been to Israel, you know that Shabbat—what we call the Sabbath—is a big deal. It starts Friday at sundown and goes until Saturday at sundown, and let me tell you, the whole country gets ready for it like clockwork. Friday mornings are busy—really busy. The outdoor markets are packed, folks are rushing around grabbing last-minute groceries, cleaning house, cooking meals, and getting everything wrapped up before things shut down. By the time the sun sets, the streets get quiet, the stores close, and life slows down. For the next 24 hours, it’s all about rest.
Watching Yeshua (Jesus) lay down His life to die on the cross was not what His disciples were expecting, but rather a shocking, perplexing, and apparently hopeless ending to what had seemed like a promising fulfillment of Messianic hope. The shattering ordeal of Yeshua’s trials, torture, and horrific death must have left them all feeling bereft, miserable, and uncertain of the future. What would they do now? What would their future hold?
According to ancient Jewish legend, one day Abraham was shown his father, Terah’s room of many idols. Young Abraham, thinking that perhaps he could discover intimacy with them, made some desirable delicacies and placed them before the idols. When nothing happened, he realized that these idols were nothing more than clay — they could do nothing for him or anyone else for that matter. So he proceeded to destroy all the idols, except for one.
Among those in the court of Alexander the Great was a philosopher of outstanding ability but little money. He asked Alexander for financial help and was told to draw whatever he needed from the imperial treasury.
Make no mistake—the spirit of antisemitism is very much alive today. Yet this isn’t a new struggle. It is an ancient spiritual war that has been ongoing for thousands of years. As people worldwide celebrate Purim, recalling the Jewish people’s deliverance from Haman’s evil schemes that took place in the ancient Kingdom of Persia (Iran), we are reminded of a deeper reality: a spiritual conflict between heavenly powers and demonic principalities.