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 1999-2026 Worthy Devotions. This devotional was originally published on Worthy Devotions and was reproduced with permission.
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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.