James 4:8 Draw near to God and He will draw near to you. Cleanse your hands, you sinners; and purify your hearts, you double-minded.
Elul is a month when the distance between heaven and earth seems to shrink. The rabbis used a picture to explain this: “The King is in the field.” Normally, when a king resides in his palace, his people must pass through gates, guards, and endless protocol to gain an audience. Few are admitted, and even then, only with fear and trembling. But during Elul, the King is said to leave His palace and walk among His people in the open fields. He is close, approachable, and available to anyone who desires to draw near.
This picture captures the essence of Elul. God does not wait for us to ascend to Him by our own efforts; instead, He bends low, stepping into the ordinary places of our lives. He comes near where we labor, where we wrestle, where we sow and reap — and in His nearness, He invites us to turn aside and approach Him.
To “draw near” in this season means more than a fleeting prayer or a moment of religious duty. It is an intentional turning of the heart. James 4:8 says, “Draw near to God, and He will draw near to you.” Elul reminds us that God is already moving toward us — He is in the field, waiting for our response. To draw near is to make space, to set aside distraction, to step out of our routines and meet Him in the openness He has provided.
Even the name Elul hints at this intimacy. Its letters (Aleph-Lamed-Vav-Lamed) form the acronym for “Ani l’dodi v’dodi li” — “I am my Beloved’s, and my Beloved is mine” (Song of Songs 6:3). Elul is covenant love in action — not distant, not unreachable, but near and personal.
Beloved, the King is in the field. He is not behind walls or palace gates. He is walking where you walk. This is the time to stop, to look up, and to respond. Do not miss His nearness. Do not let the shofar sound without awakening. The Beloved is calling His Bride to Himself — to intimacy, to repentance, to readiness. The King is in the field … and He is waiting for you.
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[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]Watching Yeshua (Jesus) lay down His life to die on the cross was not what His disciples were expecting, but rather a shocking, perplexing, and apparently hopeless ending to what had seemed like a promising fulfillment of Messianic hope. The shattering ordeal of Yeshua’s trials, torture, and horrific death must have left them all feeling bereft, miserable, and uncertain of the future. What would they do now? What would their future hold?
According to ancient Jewish legend, one day Abraham was shown his father, Terah’s room of many idols. Young Abraham, thinking that perhaps he could discover intimacy with them, made some desirable delicacies and placed them before the idols. When nothing happened, he realized that these idols were nothing more than clay — they could do nothing for him or anyone else for that matter. So he proceeded to destroy all the idols, except for one.
Among those in the court of Alexander the Great was a philosopher of outstanding ability but little money. He asked Alexander for financial help and was told to draw whatever he needed from the imperial treasury.
Make no mistake—the spirit of antisemitism is very much alive today. Yet this isn’t a new struggle. It is an ancient spiritual war that has been ongoing for thousands of years. As people worldwide celebrate Purim, recalling the Jewish people’s deliverance from Haman’s evil schemes that took place in the ancient Kingdom of Persia (Iran), we are reminded of a deeper reality: a spiritual conflict between heavenly powers and demonic principalities.
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