Romans 15:13 May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope.
In a world full of uncertainty, this verse from Romans stands like a lighthouse in the storm: “The God of hope…” Not just the God who gives hope, but the very source of it. When everything around us seems shaken — economies falter, nations rage, relationships strain — it is the God of hope who remains unshaken and unchanging.
The apostle Paul is writing this as both a blessing and a prayer. His desire is that believers wouldn’t just scrape by emotionally, but be filled — overflowing with joy and peace. But there’s a condition: “in believing.” Joy and peace are not produced by circumstances going right, but by faith — by believing that God is good, God is near, and God is working all things together for good.
And here’s the beautiful secret: it’s not up to us to manufacture this hope. Paul says it is “by the power of the Holy Spirit” that we abound in hope. That means when you feel empty, weak, or discouraged, you can cry out to the Spirit of God, and He will fill you. This is not wishful thinking; this is supernatural empowerment.
But it doesn’t end with you. The hope God gives is not meant to be bottled up. If you’re not centered in His hope, you’ll have nothing of substance to give to a hopeless world. But when you are filled — when your life is anchored in His peace and joy through faith — you become a vessel that overflows. You begin to spread abounding hope to those around you: in your family, in your workplace, in your community, and even across nations. Hope becomes contagious. And in these last days, a hope-filled believer becomes a blazing signpost pointing to a living Savior.
So rise up, child of God. The world is drowning in fear, division, and despair—but you carry the answer. Let the God of hope fill you so completely that hopelessness has no room to linger. Let joy silence anxiety. Let peace disarm chaos. And let the blazing hope of the Holy Spirit within you pierce the darkness like a sword of light.
This is your calling — not just to survive in these days, but to abound. To be a walking embassy of heaven’s hope. To lift the weary. To speak life into the broken. To shine with a supernatural confidence that the world cannot explain — because your hope isn’t rooted in headlines, but in the unshakable promises of God.
You were not meant to carry a dim candle. You were meant to burn bright with holy fire. So stay centered in His hope—and then go and spread it with boldness, until the whole world knows: there is a God of hope, and His name is Yeshua (Jesus).
Copyright 1999-2025 Worthy Devotions. This devotional was originally published on Worthy Devotions and was reproduced with permission.
More Devotions
Over the past few years, some leaders who once inspired many have fallen into scandals that have brought harm and confusion to the body of Christ. In moments like these, it’s easy to feel disillusioned or lost, as if the work of God depends on human vessels who have failed us. But I’m reminded of how Elisha responded when Elijah was taken from him. His eyes were not on the departing servant but on the living God. “Where is the Lord God of Elijah?” he cried — not, “Where is Elijah?” That cry holds a lesson for us today: our hope and strength are not in human leaders, but in the God who works through them—and who remains faithful even when men falter.
The day before Israel launched Operation Rising Lion, Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu stood before the ancient stones of the Western Wall and placed a prayer in its crevices. He chose Numbers 23:24—a verse that declares a timeless truth: God calls Israel and His people everywhere to rise with strength, purpose, and courage, no matter what challenges they face.
When we read the Beatitudes, we catch a glimpse of Yeshua’s heart and the values that define His Kingdom. His words unveil the kind of life that God calls blessed—marked by humility, mercy, purity of heart, a hunger for righteousness, peacemaking, and faithful endurance in the face of suffering.
We often celebrate beginnings—new chapters, breakthroughs, divine appointments. But in God’s economy, every true beginning requires a holy crossing. Before the Hebrews could enter the Promised Land, they had to leave Egypt. Before they entered the Promised Land, they had to cross over the Red Sea. And before Abraham could receive God’s promises, he had to obey a single command: “Leave.”
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.