Hebrews 11:8 By faith Abraham obeyed when he was called to go out into a place which he was afterward going to receive for an inheritance. And he went out, not knowing where he went.
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.”
Abraham stood at that threshold. When he obeyed God’s call to walk away from his homeland, his security, and all that was familiar, he became the first Hebrew—the first Ivri, literally one who crosses over. He stepped across the invisible boundary between the known and the unknown, the natural and the supernatural, the seen and that which was promised.
The identity of God’s people is rooted in crossing: from unbelief to faith, from bondage to freedom, from death to life. God didn’t just call Abraham to a destination—He called him to a transformation. And transformation begins when we say goodbye to what’s behind.
Leaving is not just an act of trust—it is a declaration of faith in the unseen. It’s Abraham turning his back on everything familiar—his land, his family, his future plans—to follow a voice, a promise, a God he could not see. It’s the Hebrews standing at the edge of the Red Sea, with Pharaoh’s army closing in behind them and nothing but water before them—yet stepping forward, believing that the God who delivered them once would make a way again.
Leaving is the willingness to let go before you see what’s coming next. It’s choosing to release your grip on the known in exchange for the eternal. It’s not a loss—it’s a surrender that leads to something greater.
Think about the disciples. Their journey with Yeshua (Jesus) didn’t begin with great sermons or miracles. It began when they dropped their nets. They left their boats, their routines, their comfort zones—and followed Him. Without leaving, there would have been no following. Without the exit, no entrance. It’s not just a principle of geography. It’s a paradox of the Kingdom.
How often do we pray for a breakthrough while clinging to what God is asking us to release? We want resurrection, but resist the cross. We want the Promised Land, but won’t leave our Egypt. Yet, the exodus is not punishment—it’s preparation.
God doesn’t just take things away—He delivers us from what no longer fits our future, so He can place in our hands what was always meant to be ours. He strips away what cannot stay, to make room for what cannot be shaken. What He asks you to release is never greater than what He’s preparing to give.
Perhaps for you, it’s a mindset that needs to be left behind, a fear that has kept you stuck, or a comfort zone that has become a cage. “Crossing over” means trusting that what God is leading you toward is greater than what He’s asking you to leave behind. What lies ahead with Him always outweighs what’s left behind. It’s believing the Promised Land ahead is worth every Egypt that’s left behind. It’s choosing, like Abraham, to become one who crosses over.
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[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]Sometimes, the more significant, powerful, or influential someone is, the less you know about him or her. There are some people of influence whose names most of us have never heard, and about whom we know almost nothing, yet they make decisions which affect millions of lives.
Charles Spurgeon wrote “Prayer pulls the rope below and the great bell rings above in the ears of God. Some scarcely stir the bell, for they pray so languidly. Others give but an occasional pluck at the rope. But he who wins with heaven is the man who grasps the rope boldly and pulls continuously, with all his might.”
Caesarea Phillipi, where Yeshua (Jesus) revealed himself as Messiah to His disciples, was home to the Temple of Pan, a place so demonic that many of the rituals performed there are too horrible to mention in a daily devotion…
This groundbreaking conversation took place at Caesarea Phillipi, which lies today in the modern day reserve of the Banias in the Golan Heights region of Israel. The city was established by Ptolemaic Greeks, a Hellenistic community where the worship of the god Pan was centered. Reviled by the Jews of Yeshua’s time and considered by them the most idolatrous place in the entire Galilee, to this day it remains a place of nature worship and deep paganism…
David’s faith and courage in volunteering to fight Goliath was an embarrassment to his big brother Eliab, an officer in King Saul’s army. I imagine his thinking went something like this; “If my little brother wins everybody will ask, ‘How come you didn’t go out and fight him?’” The Bible records that Eliab “burned with anger at David and asked, ‘Why have you come down here? And with whom did you leave those few sheep in the desert? I know how conceited you are and how wicked your heart is…’” These are devastating words from an older brother. Before David could defeat Goliath he first had to overcome the attitudes, accusations and words, of those close around him.
The noted English architect Sir Christopher Wren was supervising the construction of a magnificent cathedral in London. A journalist thought it would be interesting to interview some of the workers, so he chose three and asked them this question, “What are you doing?” The first replied, “I’m cutting stone for a shabby 10 shillings a day.” The next answered, “I’m putting in 13 hard hours a day on this job.” But the last said, “I’m helping Sir Christopher Wren construct one of London’s greatest cathedrals.”
It is among popular “Christian” belief that an abundance of material and other blessings follow those whose hearts are truly after God and that those who seem to consistently struggle to that end, cannot possibly be in God’s perfect will. I want to submit to you a realization I had about this very thing. I think we might have it all backwards.