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.
Copyright 1999-2026 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]Judges 6 begins with an angel talking to Gideon saying, “thou mighty man of valor!” However, in this passage Gideon isn’t feeling very valiant — he’s consumed with his circumstances — how poor his family is and how he’s the least of his fathers’ house. He doesn’t feel he’s done anything worthy of being called valiant, yet the angel still addresses him “mighty man of valor!”
Sometimes it’s very difficult to rejoice in trials – especially when the trials affect ministry! Last week, one of our servers had a database server collapse, but after several days of work, the server is now back online. Although the damage was minimal, the time needed to spend researching the issue and then rebuilding the databases took days.
I’m not sure how much I enjoy the freezing weather here as we’re traveling across the United States, but I certainly can’t wait till Spring comes! On the Hebrew calendar Nisan is the month that transitions from winter to Spring.
The central fact of the gospel message is the resurrection of Yeshua (Jesus), declared in Psalm 2, the begotten Son of God. In 1952, Dead Sea scrolls were discovered in Cave 4 called the “Messianic Apocalypse”. The Messiah’s ministry of resurrection is reiterated in these ancient documents with an obvious reference to Isaiah 61:1-3. The scroll identifies someone who “… will heal the wounded, and revive the dead and bring good news to the poor.” It is clear that at least some of the authors of these documents clearly understood the central nature and ministry of the coming Messiah, most certainly based on their intimate knowledge of the prophetic writings in the Tenach (OT)…that ministry, resurrection of the dead.
Peter and John have just miraculously healed a man who was lame from his mother’s womb and Jerusalem is wonderstruck. God’s goodness and power turn a cripple into a living leaping testimony. We too come to the Lord as spiritual cripples, and He offers us a life of abundant joy as a testimony to Him. This life was purchased at an inestimably high price as recounted in verse 15 above: the death of the Prince of Life. The Hebrew, “Sar Ha-Chayim” actually expresses “life” in the plural, i.e. “lives” (chayim). This plural expression for life points to the literally millions of souls who have been redeemed by the death of Yeshua, but also, to the abundant life He provides for us.
When I was growing up in Baltimore, Maryland during the winter I always wished for a snow day so that I didn’t have to go to school the following day. I was always watching the news for any hint of snow, even just a ½ inch was usually enough–schools would just close! Aside from the weather report there was one sign …
Reading the gospels I find myself considering and identifying with the very human experiences and emotions of the Apostles, especially as the pace and intensity of the events of their lives with Yeshua were unprecedented. I have to wonder if the pace and intensity of the days of our lives can compete with theirs. Witnessing His miracles, His authoritative and concise way of teaching, His inevitable rejection, torture and crucifixion, His astounding exuberant resurrection, and eventual returning flight to Heaven from whence He came…all this must have had a rather relentless effect upon those who walked in any way closely with Him. Would it be fair to compare our present day scientific and technical accomplishments, political gymnastics, information explosion, pandemics, media magic, and the plethora of personal events, encounters and challenges, with their apostolic roller coaster ride?