1 Timothy 6:7 For we brought nothing into this world, and it is certain we can carry nothing out.
About a week ago, archaeologists uncovered the tomb of an Egyptian pharaoh in Luxor, which is situated on the ancient city of Thebes. This marked the first discovery of its kind in the area since the excavation of King Tutankhamun’s tomb in 1922.
When you think of Egypt, the pyramids are likely the first image that comes to mind. Similarly, when I think of the pyramids, they remind me of a valuable life lesson I’d like to share.
Some folks, especially those into New Age teaching, think these pyramids are full of spiritual mysteries. Some say aliens built them; others suggest they’re packed with cosmic energy. But at the end of the day, these giant structures are just fancy graves, gigantic tombstones for the dead with all their earthly treasures that didn’t go with them in the afterlife.
The pyramids illustrate a vital lesson: pursuits of self-glorification lead to nothing but waste, destruction, futility, and death. No matter how grand or elaborate our earthly achievements might be, without focusing on the Kingdom, they are merely monuments to our egos, lifeless and hollow—just like the pyramids.
However, by putting our egos and worldly pursuits to rest and turning our focus to the Kingdom—and the everlasting life that awaits us—we avoid boasting of our earthly treasures and concentrate instead on His work, leading us to an eternal reward.
So, let’s continue to invest wisely in those things that endure forever. This world will soon pass away, and only things set up to build His eternal Kingdom will remain. So, let’s focus on the investments that never fail with the time left to invest!
Copyright 1999-2025 Worthy Devotions. This devotional was originally published on Worthy Devotions and was reproduced with permission.
More Devotions
Psalm 98 is a victory psalm — a call to lift up a “new song” because the Z’roah, the holy arm of the LORD, has brought decisive triumph. In Hebrew thought, the arm is the active extension of the will, the power that brings intention into reality. To call it “holy” is to declare that it is set apart, dedicated fully to God’s purpose, incapable of corruption. The psalmist celebrates that salvation is not a hidden act, but an open demonstration — God’s righteousness revealed before the eyes of the nations.
This is one of the most intimate revelations of the Z’roah in Scripture. God looks for a human intercessor but finds none. No man can bridge the gap. So His own Arm accomplishes the work. In Hebrew, v’tosha lo zeroa — “His arm saved for Him” — reveals that salvation originates from within God Himself, not from any outside help. Isaiah adds that His own righteousness sustained Him — it upheld His resolve to save — and His fury upheld Him, a holy passion that would not rest until justice was accomplished.
To “bare” the arm means to roll up the sleeve and reveal the full readiness for action. In Isaiah’s prophecy, this is a global unveiling — no longer hidden, the Z’roah is on display for all nations to witness. This speaks directly of Yeshua’s (Jesus’) public ministry and, ultimately, His crucifixion.
The Hebrew phrase “z’roah moshel lo” paints the picture of an arm that governs with both strength and care. The same Z’roah that brought Israel out of Egypt in power now establishes righteous order and sustains His people in love. Deliverance without rulership is incomplete; the Redeemer becomes the King — and the King rules as a Shepherd. The Arm does not act independently but moves in perfect submission to the Head, carrying out the will of the Father.
I’ll be doing a series on the “Arm of God,” beginning with this first message — The Arm that Redeems. The Hebrew Z’roah (זְרוֹעַ) means “arm” or “strength,” and in ancient Hebrew culture, the arm symbolizes active power in motion — strength applied for a purpose. In the Exodus account, God tells Moses He will redeem Israel “with an outstretched arm” (bizroa netuyah). This was not poetic metaphor; it was God’s declaration of decisive intervention. The Z’roah is the covenant-keeping arm that moves history, enforces promises, and breaks oppression. Every Pesach (Passover), during the seder — the festive meal of remembrance — the roasted lamb shank bone, the Z’roah, rests on the plate as a silent yet powerful witness to God’s mighty deliverance.
These closing verses of Psalm 118 begin with an unshakable proclamation: “The LORD is God.” In Hebrew, it’s emphatic — YHVH, He is El — the declaration that all authority, holiness, and sovereignty belong to Him alone. Yet this is not just a statement of who He is — it’s a testimony of what He has done: “He has made His light to shine upon us.” This light is more than the glow of the sun — it is the revelation of His presence, the warmth of His favor, and the piercing truth that chases away every shadow. His light doesn’t simply illuminate — it transforms.
Psalm 118:24 is not merely about enjoying a new day — it is a prophetic declaration of a divinely appointed moment. “This is the day the LORD has made” speaks of a kairos moment in history when heaven and earth converge. It points to the day when Messiah would be revealed, salvation would walk into Jerusalem, and God’s covenant plan would take a dramatic step forward. This is not the casual celebration of a sunrise — it is the joyful response to God’s redemptive unfolding.