1 Kings 3:5-9 At Gibeon the LORD appeared to Solomon in a dream by night; and God said, “Ask! What shall I give you?” 6 And Solomon said: “You have shown great mercy to Your servant David my father, because he walked before You in truth, in righteousness, and in uprightness of heart with You; You have continued this great kindness for him, and You have given him a son to sit on his throne, as it is this day. 7 Now, O LORD my God, You have made Your servant king instead of my father David, but I am a little child; I do not know how to go out or come in. 8 And Your servant is in the midst of Your people whom You have chosen, a great people, too numerous to be numbered or counted. 9 Therefore give to Your servant an understanding heart to judge Your people, that I may discern between good and evil. For who is able to judge this great people of Yours?”
Deut. 28:6-7 “Blessed shall you be when you come in, and blessed shall you be when you go out. 7 “The LORD will cause your enemies who rise against you to be defeated before your face; they shall come out against you one way and flee before you seven ways.
In the Book of Kings, when King Solomon began his reign, God asked him, “What shall I give you?” He replied, “I am a little child; I do not know how to go out or come in” (1 Kings 3:7). Such a phrase seems curious, yet it holds deep significance. It is echoed throughout Scripture, revealing a principle that intimacy with God leads to victory!
When Moses pleaded for a leader to replace him, he asked the Lord for a leader who could lead the Israelites “to go out and come in” so they wouldn’t be like sheep without a shepherd (Numbers 27:17). Joshua was chosen. He was one of the two spies, Caleb being the other, who said, “Adonai is with us”- do not fear the giants of the land! (Numbers 14:7-9)
After Joshua was appointed leader, he spoke to Caleb, who, at eighty-five, boldly claimed his strength for battle was as strong as ever, “both for going out and for coming in.” (Joshua 14:11)
Again, this expression surfaces regarding David in 1 Samuel 18. Here, amidst the praises of the people who acclaimed, “Saul has slain his thousands, and David his ten thousands” (1 Samuel 18:7), we see that Israel loved David because “he went out and came in before them.” (1 Samuel 18:13)
What can we learn from these faithful servants? They all shared a profound intimacy with God. Moses spoke to God face-to-face as one speaks to a friend (Exodus 33:11), Joshua was one with whom the Spirit rested (Numbers 27:18), Caleb followed God wholly with all his heart (Joshua 14:9), and David was known as a man after God’s own heart. (Acts 13:22; 1 Samuel 13:14)
Each of these faithful leaders understood the critical importance of entering God’s presence and drawing on His strength and power before stepping out to battle. They faced formidable adversities—enemies, even giants and armies—yet they were victorious.
So cultivate that type of intimacy in your daily walk with the Lord. Begin each day by entering into His presence through worship and prayer before you step out into the world. By doing this, when you go out, you go out with the confidence that the Lord “will cause your enemies who rise against you to be defeated before your face; they shall come out against you one way and flee before you seven ways.” (Deut 28:6-7)
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I’ll be doing a series on the “Arm of God,” beginning with this first message — The Arm that Redeems. The Hebrew Z’roah (זְרוֹעַ) means “arm” or “strength,” and in ancient Hebrew culture, the arm symbolizes active power in motion — strength applied for a purpose. In the Exodus account, God tells Moses He will redeem Israel “with an outstretched arm” (bizroa netuyah). This was not poetic metaphor; it was God’s declaration of decisive intervention. The Z’roah is the covenant-keeping arm that moves history, enforces promises, and breaks oppression. Every Pesach (Passover), during the seder — the festive meal of remembrance — the roasted lamb shank bone, the Z’roah, rests on the plate as a silent yet powerful witness to God’s mighty deliverance.
These closing verses of Psalm 118 begin with an unshakable proclamation: “The LORD is God.” In Hebrew, it’s emphatic — YHVH, He is El — the declaration that all authority, holiness, and sovereignty belong to Him alone. Yet this is not just a statement of who He is — it’s a testimony of what He has done: “He has made His light to shine upon us.” This light is more than the glow of the sun — it is the revelation of His presence, the warmth of His favor, and the piercing truth that chases away every shadow. His light doesn’t simply illuminate — it transforms.
Psalm 118:24 is not merely about enjoying a new day — it is a prophetic declaration of a divinely appointed moment. “This is the day the LORD has made” speaks of a kairos moment in history when heaven and earth converge. It points to the day when Messiah would be revealed, salvation would walk into Jerusalem, and God’s covenant plan would take a dramatic step forward. This is not the casual celebration of a sunrise — it is the joyful response to God’s redemptive unfolding.
These verses capture one of the most profound Messianic truths in all of Scripture. What man cast aside, God exalted. What the builders saw as flawed and unfit, God chose as the foundation of His eternal plan. Yeshua (Jesus), the rejected One, is the very cornerstone upon which salvation, identity, and destiny are built. This is more than a theological concept — it’s a divine reversal that reveals the heart of redemption. Rejection by man does not disqualify–it often qualifies you for God’s greatest purposes.
These verses are far more than ancient lyrics — they are a spiritual invitation. The psalmist doesn’t just admire the gate — he pleads for it to open. “Open to me the gates of righteousness…” This is the cry of a heart that longs for access to God, not by merit, but by mercy. In Hebrew thought, gates represent transition points — thresholds between the common and the holy, the outside and the inner court, the temporal and the eternal. These are not man-made doors — they are divine entrances into the presence and promises of the LORD.
As we continue our study in Psalm 118, I want to take a deep dive into verses 17-18, where the psalmist makes one of the boldest declarations in all of Scripture: “I shall not die, but live, and declare the works of the LORD.” This isn’t the voice of someone untouched by pain — it’s the cry of someone who has been through the fire and come out declaring God’s faithfulness. This statement is not a denial of suffering; it’s a defiance of death. It’s the resolve of a heart that’s been chastened, refined, and pressed, yet remains confident in the God who preserves life — not just for survival, but for purpose.
Over the past two devotionals, we heard the song of the redeemed and stood at the wells of salvation. We saw how strength, song, and salvation flow from Yeshua Himself — how the joy of drawing from His presence is not just a poetic promise but a lifeline for our day. Yet today, we stand at a prophetic threshold. Something has shifted. Something has broken open. We are not only being refreshed — we are being awakened and called.