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]As we continue our study of the men who followed David, another characteristic was their ability to war.They learned how to battle with both the right hand and the left hand for hurling stones. If you have ever thrown a ball, you know that you can aim effectively with your dominant hand — but try it with the opposite hand — it’s far more difficult to throw accurately. But the men that followed David learned to throw with both arms effectively! It must have taken months of training to develop such skill.
When David was a fugitive from Saul, the men who followed him recognized his rightful place as King of Israel, and they developed a deep loyalty to him, this little band. As we read yesterday, these men were transformed from distress, debt, and discontentment [1 Sam. 22:1-2] into becoming mighty men of war. Having joined David, they quickly realized that they were joining a conflict.
Last night, Jewish people around the world will mourn Tisha B’Av, the ninth day of the fifth month of the Hebrew calendar year. Some of you may know that a lot of bad things have happened to the Jewish people on this date, the first of which was when the spies returned with an evil report of Canaan, the Promised Land, recounted in Numbers 13 and 14. Both the first and the second Temple were destroyed on this exact date, hundreds of years apart. The Crusades began on this day in 1095. The Jews were expelled out of England on this day in 1290, and again were expelled from Spain and Portugal on Tisha B’Av in 1492. And there are many more examples of this infamous day in Jewish history!
An ancient legend tells of a king who walked into his garden one day to find almost everything withered and dying. After speaking to an oak near the gate, the king learned that he was troubled because he was not tall and beautiful like the pine. The pine overheard their conversation and added that she, too, was upset, for she could not bear delicious fruit like the pear tree. The pear tree heard his name and began to complain that he did not have the lovely odor of the spruce. And so it went throughout the entire garden.
In the midst of a serious heat wave, wildfires are spreading across Europe causing thousands to evacuate. This reminded me of a story I once read.
I can’t begin to tell you. So many people I’ve shared the Gospel with have answered, “Well — I don’t need that, I’m a good person.” No, we’re not. We have a tendency to compare ourselves with our neighbor, thinking how nice or how giving we are compared to him or her. But none of us are good by God’s standards. Our good works are like filthy rags, according to Isaiah.
If you look at the ant you will find that they dwell in colonies. Each colony consists of approximately 60,000 – 90,000 ants — they really can’t prosper on their own. They need each other. How does a colony of that many ants to work together? The only reason it works is that they operate in unity. Each ant shares the same purpose, the same goal, and the same aim.