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 1999-2025 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]The apostle Paul’s epistle to the Thessalonians contains clear and powerful exhortations concerning the will of God for believers. These exhortations express the specific will of God in relationships with others, with ourselves, and with the Lord. Packed into these short verses are patterns of life and behavior which receive His blessing in all these relationships.
In this day and age, I’m convinced that it’s more imperative than ever to learn to rest! The famed preacher, C.S. Spurgeon, once wrote, “Rest time is not waste time. It is economy to gather fresh strength… It is wisdom to take occasional furlough. In the long run, we shall do more by sometimes doing less.”
When I was growing up, we used to have fire drills in school at least once a year. The fire alarm went off, causing you to shake from the sudden loud bell momentarily, but it was only seconds before you knew.... it was only a drill; you really didn't expect a fire. Nevertheless, everyone present was expected to rush out the door (in an orderly fashion) to the parking lot. It was a nice break from class, that yearly fire drill.
Our true value was expressed at the cross of Messiah, where God valued us according to the redemptive work of His only Son. In the light of our identity in Christ our value is inestimable. We are worthy in Him. Much of our spiritual battle, however, is about maintaining and expressing our true identity and worth, day by day.
Recently, Israel announced it was expanding the Pool of Siloam, which they estimated was about an acre and a half in size. The Pool of Siloam is where Jesus sent the blind man to wash [John 9:6-7] and where he regained his sight. Some scholars believe this was where the first 3,000 souls were baptized upon hearing the gospel in Acts 2. [Acts 2:41]
As we enter a New Year, remember the one constant true for everyone, rich or poor, male or female: each of us is given 8,760 hours in a Gregorian calendar year. That is, 1,440 minutes a day, or 525,600 minutes a year. Sounds like a lot, yet have you noticed how time flies these days?
Persecution and serious trials were regular fare for the early followers of Messiah. Apostle Paul who was stoned and left for dead [Acts 14:19] was not exaggerating when he affirmed, "Through much tribulation we must enter the kingdom of God."