Psalms 118:17-18 I shall not die, but I shall live, and recount the deeds of the LORD. 18 The LORD has disciplined me severely, but he has not given me over to death.
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.
The Hebrew word for “declare” is סָפַר (saphar) — meaning to proclaim, recount, or record in detail. It’s the same root used for a scribe or storyteller. This isn’t about vague gratitude — it’s about vocal, specific testimony. When God raises you up, He doesn’t do it just for your comfort — He does it so you can bear witness. Your life becomes a scroll on which His faithfulness is written, line by line, miracle by miracle.
This verse carries profound prophetic weight. It prefigures the resurrection of Yeshua (Jesus), who was chastened unto death yet not abandoned to the grave. On the third day, He rose — not in silence, but declaring the works of the LORD. And because we are in Him, His resurrection becomes the pattern of our own. We, too, are raised — not just to walk out of tombs, but to walk into testimony. Not just to breathe — but to proclaim.
Verse 18 reminds us that the Lord may chasten, but He does not abandon. Discipline is a sign of sonship, not disfavor. There are seasons where we are pressed, pruned, and purified — but they are not the end. In fact, they often precede the greatest declarations. What was meant to break you becomes the stage from which you testify. You are not just a survivor–you are a witness.
So what will you do with the life He has preserved? This is your moment to speak. To recount the works of the Lord in the land of the living. Your scars tell stories, and your survival is sacred. Don’t waste your breath on fear. Use it to testify. You are alive for a reason. Rise up and declare it.
You weren’t just rescued — you were raised. And you weren’t just raised — you were commissioned. The enemy came to bury you, but God brought you through the fire so you could speak with authority. Don’t stay silent. Don’t shrink back. Open your mouth and tell the world what God has done. Stand on your feet, even if they’re trembling. Speak through tears, if you must. But speak. Declare His works boldly. Hell lost when Yeshua rose — and it loses again every time you refuse to die in your trial and choose instead to live and declare. Let your life be a trumpet. Let your voice shake the grave. You shall not die — you shall live!
Copyright 1999-2025 Worthy Devotions. This devotional was originally published on Worthy Devotions and was reproduced with permission.
More Devotions
A beachhead is the first critical objective in a military invasion–the spot where a force lands on enemy territory and secures a position for greater advancement. It’s the place of breakthrough. And it’s also the place of fiercest resistance.
Last night marked the beginning of Shavuot–a feast that many Christians recognize as Pentecost, the day the Holy Spirit was poured out in Acts 2. But the roots of Shavuot stretch back much further. Long before that upper room encounter–about 1,500 years earlier–Shavuot was the day God gave the law to Moses on Mount Sinai, writing His commandments on tablets of stone.
David wrote Psalm 3 while running for his life — betrayed, heartbroken, and hunted by his own son, Absalom. The weight of rebellion wasn’t just political; it was personal. His household had turned against him. Friends became foes. Loyal hearts grew cold. The throne he once held was now surrounded by enemies, and the whispers grew louder: “There is no salvation for him in God.”
Psalm 2 is a divine announcement — a heavenly decree that demands the world’s attention. It begins with a question: “Why do the nations rage, and the peoples plot in vain?” (Ps. 2:1). The nations rise up, not against injustice or tyranny, but against the rule of God’s Meshiach (Messiah). That Anointed is Yeshua — the Son whom the Father has set on His holy hill in Zion (Ps. 2:6). The psalm strips away all pretense and exposes the heart of human rebellion: it is a refusal to be ruled by His Messiah.
Psalm 1 opens with a sobering warning about the quiet, deadly slide into sin. The man without God doesn’t become a scorner overnight — he drifts there gradually. First, he walks in ungodly counsel, entertaining worldly thoughts. Then, he stands in the path of sinners, embracing their way of life. Finally, he sits in the seat of the scornful, hardened in heart and mocking what is sacred. This progression — from a man without God to scorner — reveals how small compromises grow into full rebellion, dulling the conscience and deadening the soul.
In a world trembling with uncertainty–political unrest, economic turmoil, natural disasters–God is speaking again. Not in whispers, but with the shaking that reorders lives, redefines kingdoms, and removes everything that cannot stand in the presence of His glory. He is preparing us for a kingdom that cannot be moved. But in the midst of the shaking, there is rest — a deep, unshakable rest reserved for the people of God. Not rest as the world gives — temporary relief or distraction — but the kind that anchors the soul in the storm, the kind that is rooted in Yeshua (Jesus), our rest.
Just as a bird needs both wings to fly, a victorious life requires both faith and obedience. In Joshua, God calls Joshua to lead Israel into the Promised Land, not just with bold confidence but with complete dependence on His Word. Faith believes what God says; obedience acts upon it. One without the other stalls the journey. This moment wasn’t just about crossing into the promise land — it was about stepping into covenant reality, where trust in God’s promise was matched by surrender to God’s command.