Leviticus 23:15-17 “You shall count seven full weeks from the day after the Sabbath, from the day that you brought the sheaf of the wave offering. You shall count fifty days to the day after the seventh Sabbath. Then you shall present a grain offering of new grain to the LORD. You shall bring from your dwelling places two loaves of bread to be waved, made of two-tenths of an ephah. They shall be of fine flour, and they shall be baked with leaven, as firstfruits to the LORD.
In the Tenach (Old Testament), the Lord commanded Israel to count the Omer (the Barley Harvest) beginning the day after the sabbath during Passover, 50 days to the Biblical Festival of Shavuot (Pentecost).
What’s truly remarkable is that for nearly 2,000 years, the Jewish people lived in exile without a homeland—and without a harvest to count. Still, generation after generation, they continued to count the Omer. Why? Because they held on to the promise. They faithfully marked time, counting a harvest that didn’t yet exist in the natural, believing that one day, God would fulfill His word and restore them to the land of their forefathers.
And then, against all odds, He did.
Roughly 130 years ago, a miracle began to unfold. The Lord started regathering His people back to the land of Israel. What was once a barren desert began to bloom. The barley harvest—and with it, the counting of the Omer—was restored. Today, just as in ancient times, Israel counts the Omer with an actual harvest in hand. What was once done in faith and hope is now done in fulfillment and joy.
This powerful example speaks volumes to us as believers in the Messiah. If the Jewish people could faithfully count a harvest that didn’t yet exist, how much more should we, who have the Spirit of God within us, learn to wait with expectation? The Omer reminds us that faith is “the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen” (Hebrews 11:1).
Are you praying for something that hasn’t yet come to pass? A healing? A restored relationship? Salvation for a loved one? Financial breakthrough? Don’t grow weary. Begin to thank God now for what you have not yet seen. Rejoice in advance. Praise Him in faith. Like those who counted the Omer in exile, we can count the days in expectation of a divine harvest that is already on its way.
Let this season leading to Shavuot (Pentecost)—this year on June 1st—be a time when you set your heart to trust in God’s promises. Expect a harvest of righteousness, breakthrough, and blessing. Begin today to give thanks for the miracles yet to come. They’re closer than you think. Truly the harvest is on the way.
Copyright 1999-2025 Worthy Devotions. This devotional was originally published on Worthy Devotions and was reproduced with permission.
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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.
Yesterday, we heard the anthem of the redeemed rise like a trumpet blast: “The LORD is my strength and song, and He has become my salvation.” We explored how this was more than personal — it was prophetic, Messianic, and generational. We saw Yeshua not only as our Deliverer but as the very embodiment of God’s strength, the melody of our praise, and the fulfillment of every promise. We stood in awe as tents of rejoicing rose in the midst of warfare, and households became sanctuaries of celebration. But today, we go deeper — we step to the well.
There’s a reason this verse resounds like a national anthem of the redeemed. It’s not just a personal declaration—it’s a generational cry that echoes back to Moses at the Red Sea (Exodus 15:2) and forward to the final deliverance of Israel. The Hebrew word for salvation—Yeshua—makes this verse unmistakably Messianic. It isn’t a vague deliverance. It is the revelation of Yeshua (Jesus), the Deliverer, who embodies strength, becomes our song, and stands as the fulfillment of God’s redemptive plan.
The cry that shattered the stillness of Golgotha—“My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?” (Psalm 22:1; Matthew 27:46)—was not a random cry of despair, but the deliberate voice of Yeshua pointing to Scripture. As He hung on the tree, bearing the sin of the world, He invoked the ancient words of David—not only identifying Himself as the righteous sufferer, but signaling that Psalm 22 was unfolding before their very eyes. In that moment, heaven and earth bore witness to a divine mystery: the Holy One, seemingly abandoned, was fulfilling a prophecy written a millennium earlier. Yeshua did not merely suffer—He fulfilled every word, every shadow, every stroke of divine prophecy.