Exodus 12:2-3 “This month shall be for you the beginning of months. It shall be the first month of the year for you. 3 Tell all the congregation of Israel that on the tenth day of this month every man shall take a lamb according to their fathers’ houses, a lamb for a household.
There is something deeply powerful in the way God introduces Passover (Pesach) in Exodus. He does not begin with a list of instructions. He begins with divine intervention. Israel is enslaved, bound under Pharaoh, and crushed beneath a system they have no power to escape. Yet right in the middle of that helplessness, God speaks: “This month shall be for you the beginning of months.”
In that moment, God reveals a dual prophetic reality. On one level, He is establishing His calendar — declaring Nisan as the first month, the beginning of months for Israel. But on a deeper level, He is declaring something far more personal: this is the beginning of your spiritual life. Redemption becomes the true starting point of existence. Life is no longer defined by bondage, but by deliverance.
And how does this beginning unfold? It starts with a Lamb. The choosing of the lamb, the applying of the blood, and even the precise timing of the sacrifice all carry profound prophetic weight. God is not only delivering Israel — He is unveiling a pattern of redemption that would echo through all generations.
The Hebrew name for Egypt, Mitzrayim (מִצְרַיִם), means a narrow place, a place of restriction. Israel was not only physically trapped but spiritually confined. Yet God does not wait for them to break free. He declares that He Himself will come into the midst of Egypt. This pattern echoes throughout all Scripture and finds its ultimate fulfillment in Yeshua (Jesus). God does not stand at a distance demanding ascent; He enters the prison to bring deliverance. He steps into bondage so that His people can step into freedom.
The very word Passover — Pesach (פֶּסַח) — reveals the heart of God. It means to pass over, to hover over, to protect. This is not passive avoidance but active covering. When God says He will pass over, He is not merely skipping houses; He is standing guard over them. Judgment is moving through Egypt, yet wherever the blood is present, God positions Himself as a shield. This is more than deliverance — it is covenant protection. It is God declaring that where the blood is applied, His presence will stand between His people and destruction.
God then does something astonishing: He resets time itself. “This month shall be the beginning of months.” Redemption becomes the starting point of Israel’s calendar. In Hebraic understanding, time is not merely chronological — it is covenantal. Life is not defined by natural birth but by redemption. This is why the New Covenant echoes the same truth: in Yeshua, all things become new. Passover is not simply an event to remember; it is a divine reset of identity, purpose, and destiny.
And at the center of it all stands the lamb. Israel did not suggest it, and Moses did not invent it. God provided it. This introduces the deeper Hebraic reality of the sacrifice — in Hebrew, Korban (קרבן)— means to draw near. The sacrifice is not about loss but about access. Even in Exodus, the root truth is clear: man does not create access to God; God provides the means to draw near to Him. This is why the Gospel is not built on human effort but on divine provision.
This is where everything begins. Before cleansing the house, before walking in holiness, before understanding deeper truths, there must be an encounter with the God who delivers. And there is an urgency here that cannot be ignored. You cannot deliver yourself from Egypt. You cannot reason your way out of bondage or improve yourself into freedom. God must step in –and the good news is that He already has. The same God who entered Egypt has entered humanity through Yeshua. The same God who stood between judgment and His people has provided the blood that still speaks today.
Beloved, You don’t have to wonder if God will show up. He already has. The real invitation is to recognize His presence in the middle of what you’re walking through. Redemption doesn’t start when you finally get everything right or reach high enough—it begins the moment you realize that God has already come near to you, already made a way, already stepped in on your behalf. Right where you are — He is there. And this can truly be your beginning.
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[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]Between Rosh HaShannah and Yom Kippur are ten days. These days are known as “Yamim Noraim”, “the Days of Awe” — or also translated, the “Awesome days”. In Judaism it has been long believed that these days seal your fate for the upcoming year — and also allude to your final destiny, concerning whether your name continues to be written in the Book of Life.
One of the major themes of Rosh Hashana is called Akedat Yitzchak, which means the Binding of Isaac. According to Jewish tradition, God told Abraham that the ram’s horn – otherwise known as a shofar – should be blown on Rosh Hashana to remind people of the sacrifice that God provided Himself when Abraham was about to offer Isaac on Mount Moriah.
Talking to people about God has become a regular part of our lives. Between meeting people on the boards and in our chat rooms (which you should really come and visit at !) and the opportunities which open up in our daily lives, we find ourselves sharing with people from all walks of life – unbelievers, new believers, people who have come and gone from the faith and back again.
The last and most intimate metaphor for Messiah’s relationship with us is as Bridegroom to Bride. For some, the Lord’s intention to marry will be the most significant and wondrous purpose in all of Creation. The preparation for the wedding will be the most meticulous and profound of all historical processes, orchestrated by His Holy Spirit in cooperation with every devoted and expectant saint who ever lived.
One constant pitfall we must watch for is taking credit for something that God does in or through us, or using the gifts and callings of God for self-exaltation. In that light it may be easier to handle poverty, weakness, or insignificance, than wealth, ability, power or authority, since poverty and frailty are not normally things we boast about, and they cause us to recognize our need for God. Prosperity, gifting, and anointing, on the other hand can be powerful temptations, leading to pride, covetousness, and self-sufficiency.
The concept of ownership often influences how one can view the world, but if we recognize the truth that our time here is short and we can’t take anything with us, it will change our perspective. We are simply stewards of what has been entrusted to us. I’ve been running Worthy and its sites for 25 years, and I’ve never thought I was an owner but rather a steward of a ministry.
Reading this parable, we are struck by the serious consequences of failing to produce Kingdom fruit. But there’s something I want to particularly point out. Many of the great heroes of the faith — people like Moses and David, were not given great responsibilities immediately. Each of these men first served as a lowly shepherd, tending sheep. Having tested them first in this humble vocation, God then felt confident to elevate them to positions of greatness — but it all started with a small step!