Psalm 27:13-14 I would have lost heart, unless I had believed that I would see the goodness of the Lord In the land of the living. Wait on the Lord; Be of good courage, And He shall strengthen your heart; Wait, I say, on the Lord!
During this frigid weather across the United States and the devastating fires in California, millions have been grappling with widespread electricity blackouts. Thousands of people across the country remain without power. Across the United States, many teens are experiencing life without electricity for the first time—an adjustment that also means living without their cell phones. Can you imagine?
For the first time in their lives, they enjoyed the privilege of experiencing what life was like decades ago. Forced to slow down, unable to text or “Facebook”, everyone who lost power entered a “moment” of technological communication silence, and they waited anxiously for the powers that be to restore their normal life patterns. How many actually enjoyed this, or found some kind of relief from the tyranny of communication technology, I wonder? How many actually took any time out to “wait on the Lord”? I have to wonder if the Almighty had much more company than He was used to during this time. I kind of hope so…
The above passage speaks of “losing heart” except for the expectation of faith in the goodness of YHVH. How long could you go without electrical power before you might begin to “lose heart”? At what point would “waiting on the Lord” become your only source of hope or encouragement? How much, really, do we depend on earthly power? And how much on the power of God? Webster’s definition of “wait”, is “to stay or rest in”. It’s a quiet place of abiding. And this kind of waiting is expectant, because in it you are awakening your conscious relationship with the God of Creation, and you have every reason to expect His comfort, love, and restorative power to flow from your communion with Him.
But for many of us, it’s hard to enter silence, isn’t it? So when the power goes off, we fidget until it’s restored.
Is your heart weak and your earthly strength just about dried up? The word says, “Be of good courage, and wait on the Lord”; there is power and courage to be received simply by waiting on Him. Having experienced it countless times I can tell you confidently, He will renew your strength, encourage and prepare you for whatever comes next. So I say, again, “Wait on the Lord!”
Copyright 1999-2026 Worthy Devotions. This devotional was originally published on Worthy Devotions and was reproduced with permission.
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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.
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.