Hebrews 2:14-15 Since then the children have partaken of flesh and blood, He also Himself likewise partook of the same; that through death He might destroy him who had the power of death (that is, the Devil), and deliver those who through fear of death were all their lifetime subject to bondage.
Hebrews 11:1 Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.
Colossians 3:3 For ye are dead, and your life is hid with Christ in God.
Numerous acronyms can be made from the four letters which spell “F-E-A-R“. Here’s one: False Evidence Appearing Real.” Deceptive fear is spreading everywhere. False evidence, questionable claims, disputable statistics, endless narratives, hyped-up threats, and massive complexity defying interpretation are producing a threatening atmosphere (or “atmosFEAR”). Uncertainty and danger, real and imagined, pervade, the air spreading rampant anxiety. This FEAR is being used as a weapon to attack our mind and emotions, and quench our spirits. How to master it?
First, do we realize our bondage to the fear of death which is the foundation of all other fears? If so, we can overcome False Evidence Appearing Real … with Firm Assurance In The Holy. FAITH, the true evidence of what does not appear “real”, but is more real than anything else.
The Lord Yeshua (Jesus) came to destroy him who had the power of death. Death, the underlying base of all our fears, and the fear of death, are no longer our slave-masters if we have died with Messiah. Our life in this world is but a vapor, a shadow, as such, False Evidence Appearing Real. But the resurrected Son of God has hidden our true life in His, beyond this fear-soaked world. So meet your FEAR, master it…with FAITH, in the risen Messiah.
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[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]When the children of Israel wandered in the wilderness for forty years, they traversed a rugged, unpredictable landscape — mile after mile of mountains, valleys, rocks, and desert sands — as they journeyed from slavery in Egypt to the Promised Land.
For many, God remains a theory—an idea borrowed from tradition, deduced from the cosmos, or tucked quietly into the corners of a creed. He is believed in from afar, but is rarely encountered. Even among believers, it’s not uncommon to live with a distant reverence for God while lacking a vibrant, personal communion with Him.
God has always longed for intimacy with us. He formed us for Himself–to walk with Him, to know Him, to delight in His Presence. This is the very heartbeat of creation: relationship, not religion. Yet sin drove a wedge between us. A veil was drawn, shutting out the light of His face and placing distance where there was once communion.
A beachhead is the first critical objective in a military invasion–the spot where a force lands on enemy territory and secures a position for greater advancement. It’s the place of breakthrough. And it’s also the place of fiercest resistance.
David wrote Psalm 3 while running for his life — betrayed, heartbroken, and hunted by his own son, Absalom. The weight of rebellion wasn’t just political; it was personal. His household had turned against him. Friends became foes. Loyal hearts grew cold. The throne he once held was now surrounded by enemies, and the whispers grew louder: “There is no salvation for him in God.”
Psalm 2 is a divine announcement — a heavenly decree that demands the world’s attention. It begins with a question: “Why do the nations rage, and the peoples plot in vain?” (Ps. 2:1). The nations rise up, not against injustice or tyranny, but against the rule of God’s Meshiach (Messiah). That Anointed is Yeshua — the Son whom the Father has set on His holy hill in Zion (Ps. 2:6). The psalm strips away all pretense and exposes the heart of human rebellion: it is a refusal to be ruled by His Messiah.
Psalm 1 opens with a sobering warning about the quiet, deadly slide into sin. The man without God doesn’t become a scorner overnight — he drifts there gradually. First, he walks in ungodly counsel, entertaining worldly thoughts. Then, he stands in the path of sinners, embracing their way of life. Finally, he sits in the seat of the scornful, hardened in heart and mocking what is sacred. This progression — from a man without God to scorner — reveals how small compromises grow into full rebellion, dulling the conscience and deadening the soul.