There are days when you feel like your strength is leaking out faster than you can pour it back in. Responsibilities, regrets, fears, and unexpected news can make you feel like you’re barely holding it together. Psalm 118:14 steps right into that place and reminds us that strength is not just something we muster; it is Someone we know. The verse declares that the Lord Himself is our strength, the song that rises in our hearts, and the One who has already secured our rescue. It’s not about you being enough—it’s about Him being everything.

Strength That Isn’t Yours (And That’s the Point)

“The LORD is my strength and my song, and He has become my salvation.” (Psalm 118:14). Notice it doesn’t say, “The Lord gives me a little boost when I’ve done my best.” It says He is your strength. That means your adequacy is not found in your willpower, personality, or grit, but in a Person. When Paul cried out about his weakness, God answered, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is perfected in weakness.” (2 Corinthians 12:9). Weakness isn’t the disqualifier; it’s the place where God’s strength shows off.

This verse is part of a long story. God’s people have been singing this truth for centuries. After the Red Sea, they declared, “The LORD is my strength and my song, and He has become my salvation.” (Exodus 15:2). Isaiah echoes it: “Surely God is my salvation; I will trust and not be afraid. For the LORD GOD is my strength and my song, and He also has become my salvation.” (Isaiah 12:2). The same God who carried Israel through the sea and the exile is the God who carries you through the meeting, the diagnosis, the quiet room, the hidden battle. His strength doesn’t run on your battery life.

When Salvation Turns into a Song

God doesn’t only give strength; He gives a song. Strength gets you through; a song changes how you walk through. Anyone can sing when the tears have dried and the problem is fixed. But God teaches His people to sing in the middle of the mess—right where the outcome is still unclear. That’s why Psalm 118 can shout in confidence before every enemy is gone. Salvation is not only a future escape from hell; it is God stepping into your story, here and now, with mercy and authority.

This psalm points straight to Jesus. Later in the same psalm we read, “The stone the builders rejected has become the cornerstone. This is from the LORD, and it is marvelous in our eyes.” (Psalm 118:22–23). Jesus applies that to Himself (Matthew 21:42). The One the world rejected is now the foundation of our salvation and our song. When you remember that your Savior bled and rose for you, your heart has a reason to sing that no circumstance can silence. Even if your voice shakes, your song rests on a finished work, not a shifting feeling.

Living Like Someone Already Rescued

If the Lord has “become my salvation,” then I don’t live like someone trying to earn rescue; I live like someone who has already been rescued and is learning to walk free. That changes everything. You face temptation, not as a doomed struggler, but as someone whose chains are already broken. You face suffering, not as a victim of chance, but as a child of a wise Father who never wastes pain. You step into each day resting in the promise, “I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength.” (Philippians 4:13).

So what does it look like today to live this verse out? It might mean confessing where you’ve been leaning on your own strength and actually asking for His. It might mean opening your mouth in praise when you feel least like singing, because you trust His character more than your mood. It might mean obeying in a hard place, believing His salvation is bigger than what you see. The Lord is not asking you to be the hero of your story. He is asking you to trust the One who already is.

Lord, thank You for being my strength, my song, and my salvation. Help me today to rely on Your power, to praise You in every circumstance, and to walk in the freedom and courage that come from being fully Yours.

Be Thou exalted, O God, above the heavens; let thy glory be above all the earth.

Psalm 57:5

It is a truism to say that order in nature depends upon right relationships; to achieve harmony each thing must be in its proper position relative to each other thing. In human life it is not otherwise.

I have hinted before in these chapters that the cause of all our human miseries is a radical moral dislocation, an upset in our relation to God and to each other. For whatever else the Fall may have been, it was most certainly a sharp change in man's relation to his Creator. He adopted toward God an altered attitude, and by so doing destroyed the proper Creator-creature relation in which, unknown to him, his true happiness lay. Essentially salvation is the restoration of a right relation between man and his Creator, a bringing back to normal of the Creator-creature relation.

A satisfactory spiritual life will begin with a complete change in relation between God and the sinner; not a judicial change merely, but a conscious and experienced change affecting the sinner's whole nature. The atonement in Jesus' blood makes such a change judicially possible and the working of the Holy Spirit makes it emotionally satisfying.

The story of the prodigal son perfectly illustrates this latter phase. He had brought a world of trouble upon himself by forsaking the position which he had properly held as son of his father. At bottom his restoration was nothing more than a re-establishing of the father- son relation which had existed from his birth and had been altered temporarily by his act of sinful rebellion. This story overlooks the legal aspects of redemption, but it makes beautifully clear the experiential aspects of salvation.

In determining relationships we must begin somewhere. There must be somewhere a fixed center against which everything else is measured, where the law of relativity does not enter and we can say `is' and make no allowances. Such a center is God. When God would make His Name known to mankind He could find no better word than `I am'. When He speaks in the first person He says, `I am'; when we speak of Him we say `He is'; when we speak to Him we say, `Thou art.' Everyone and everything else measures from that fixed point. `I am that I am,' says God, `I change not.'

As the sailor locates his position on the sea by `shooting' the sun, so we may get our moral bearings by looking at God. We must begin with God. We are right when and only when we stand in a right position relative to God, and we are wrong so far and so long as we stand in any other position.

Much of our difficulty as seeking Christians stems from our unwillingness to take God as He is and adjust our lives accordingly. We insist upon trying to modify Him and to bring Him nearer to our own image. The flesh whimpers against the rigor of God's inexorable sentence and begs like Agag for a little mercy, a little indulgence of its carnal ways. It is no use. We can get a right start only by accepting God as He is and learning to love Him for what He is. As we go on to know Him better we shall find it a source of unspeakable joy that God is just what He is. Some of the most rapturous moments we know will be those we spend in reverent admiration of the Godhead. In those holy moments the very thought of change in Him will be too painful to endure.

So let us begin with God. Back of all, above all, before all is God; first in sequential order, above in rank and station, exalted in dignity and honor. As the self-existent One He gave being to all things, and all things exist out of and for Him. `Thou art worthy, O Lord, to receive glory and honour and power: for Thou hast created all things, and for thy pleasure they are and were created.' (Revelation 4:11)

Every soul belongs to God and exists by His pleasure. God being Who and What He is, and we being who and what we are, the only thinkable relation between us is one of full lordship on His part and complete submission on ours. We owe Him every honor that it is in our power to give Him. Our everlasting grief lies in giving Him anything less.

The pursuit of God will embrace the labor of bringing our total personality into conformity to His. And this not judicially, but actually. I do not here refer to the act of justification by faith in Christ. I speak of a voluntary exalting of God to His proper station over us and a willing surrender of our whole being to the place of worshipful submission which the Creator-creature circumstance makes proper.

The moment we make up our minds that we are going on with this determination to exalt God over all we step out of the world's parade. We shall find ourselves out of adjustment to the ways of the world, and increasingly so as we make progress in the holy way. We shall acquire a new viewpoint; a new and different psychology will be formed within us; a new power will begin to surprise us by it supsurgings and its outgoings.

Our break with the world will be the direct outcome of our changed relation to God. For the world of fallen men does not honor God. Millions call themselves by His Name, it is true, and pay some token respect to Him, but a simple test will show how little He is really honored among them. Let the average man be put to the proof on the question of who is above, and his true position will be exposed. Let him be forced into making a choice between God and money, between God and men, between God and personal ambition, God and self, God and human love, and God will take second place every time. Those other things will be exalted above. However the man may protest, the proof is in the choices he makes day after day throughout his life.

`Be thou exalted' is the language of victorious spiritual experience. It is a little key to unlock the door to great treasures of grace. It is central in the life of God in the soul. Let the seeking man reach a place where life and lips join to say continually `Be thou exalted,' and a thousand minor problems will be solved at once. His Christian life ceases to be the complicated thing it had been before and becomes the very essence of simplicity. By the exercise of his will he has set his course, and on that course he will stay as if guided by an automatic pilot. If blown off course for a moment by some adverse wind he will surely return again as by a secret bent of the soul. The hidden motions of the Spirit are working in his favor, and `the stars in their courses' fight for him. He has met his life problem at its center, and everything else must follow along.

Let no one imagine that he will lose anything of human dignity by this voluntary sell-out of his all to his God. He does not by this degrade himself as a man; rather he finds his right place of high honor as one made in the image of his Creator. His deep disgrace lay in his moral derangement, his unnatural usurpation of the place of God. His honor will be proved by restoring again that stolen throne. In exalting God over all he finds his own highest honor upheld.

Anyone who might feel reluctant to surrender his will to the will of another should remember Jesus' words, `Whosoever committeth sin is the servant of sin.' We must of necessity be servant to someone, either to God or to sin. The sinner prides himself on his independence, completely overlooking the fact that he is the weak slave of the sins that rule his members. The man who surrenders to Christ exchanges a cruel slave driver for a kind and gentle Master whose yoke is easy and whose burden is light.

Made as we were in the image of God we scarcely find it strange to take again our God as our All. God was our original habitat and our hearts cannot but feel at home when they enter again that ancient and beautiful abode. I hope it is clear that there is a logic behind God's claim to pre-eminence. That place is His by every right in earth or heaven. While we take to ourselves the place that is His the whole course of our lives is out of joint. Nothing will or can restore order till our hearts make the great decision: God shall be exalted above.

`Them that honour me I will honour,' said God once to a priest of Israel, and that ancient law of the Kingdom stands today unchanged by the passing of time or the changes of dispensation. The whole Bible and every page of history proclaim the perpetuation of that law. `If any man serve me, him will my Father honour,' said our Lord Jesus, tying in the old with the new and revealing the essential unity of His ways with men. Sometimes the best way to see a thing is to look at its opposite. Eli and his sons are placed in the priesthood with the stipulation that they honor God in their lives and ministrations. This they fail to do, and God sends Samuel to announce the consequences. Unknown to Eli this law of reciprocal honor has been all the while secretly working, and now the time has come for judgment to fall. Hophni and Phineas, the degenerate priests, fall in battle, the wife of Hophni dies in childbirth, Israel flees before her enemies, the ark of God is captured by the Philistines and the old man Eli falls backward and dies of a broken neck. Thus stark tragedy followed upon Eli's failure to honor God.

Now set over against this almost any Bible character who honestly tried to glorify God in his earthly walk. See how God winked at weaknesses and overlooked failures as He poured upon His servants grace and blessing untold. Let it be Abraham, Jacob, David, Daniel, Elijah or whom you will; honor followed honor as harvest the seed. The man of God set his heart to exalt God above all; God accepted his intention as fact and acted accordingly. Not perfection, but holy intention made the difference.

In our Lord Jesus Christ this law was seen in simple perfection. In His lowly manhood He humbled Himself and gladly gave all glory to His Father in heaven. He sought not His own honor, but the honor of God who sent Him. `If I honour myself,' He said on one occasion, `my honour is nothing; it is my Father that honoureth me.' (John 8:54) So far had the proud Pharisees departed from this law that they could not understand one who honored God at his own expense. `I honour my Father,' said Jesus to them, `and ye do dishonour me.'

Another saying of Jesus, and a most disturbing one, was put in the form of a question, `How can ye believe, which receive honour one of another, and seek not the honour that cometh from God alone?' (John 5:44) If I understand this correctly Christ taught here the alarming doctrine that the desire for honor among men made belief impossible. Is this sin at the root of religious unbelief? Could it be that those `intellectual difficulties' which men blame for their inability to believe are but smoke screens to conceal the real cause that lies behind them? Was it this greedy desire for honor from man that made men into Pharisees and Pharisees into Deicides? Is this the secret back of religious self-righteousness and empty worship? I believe it may be. Who will make the once-for-all decision to exalt Him over all? Such are these precious to God above all treasures of earth or sea. In them God finds a theater where He can display His exceeding kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. With them God can walk unhindered, toward them He can act like the God He is.

In speaking thus I have one fear; it is that I may convince the mind before God can win the heart. For this God-above-all position is one not easy to take. The mind may approve it while not having the consent of the will to put it into effect. While the imagination races ahead to honor God, the will may lag behind and the man never guess how divided his heart is. The whole man must make the decision before the heart can know any real satisfaction. God wants us all, and He will not rest till He gets us all. No part of the man will do.

Let us pray over this in detail, throwing ourselves at God's feet and meaning everything we say. No one who prays thus in sincerity need wait long for tokens of divine acceptance. God will unveil His glory before His servant's eyes, and He will place all His treasures at the disposal of such a one, for He knows that His honor is safe in such consecrated hands. O God, be thou exalted over my possessions. Nothing of earth's treasures shall seem dear unto me if only Thou art glorified in my life. Be Thou exalted over my friendships. I am determined that Thou shalt be above all, though I must stand deserted and alone in the midst of the earth. Be Thou exalted above my comforts. Though it mean the loss of bodily comforts and the carrying of heavy crosses I shall keep my vow made this day before Thee. Be Thou exalted over my reputation. Make me ambitious to please Thee even if as a result I must sink into obscurity and my name be forgotten as a dream. Rise, O Lord, into Thy proper place of honor, above my ambitions, above my likes and dislikes, above my family, my health and even my life itself. Let me decrease that Thou mayest increase, let me sink that Thou mayest rise above. Ride forth upon me as Thou didst ride into Jerusalem mounted upon the humble little beast, a colt, the foal of an ass, and let me hear the children cry to Thee, `Hosanna in the highest.

Tozer in the Evening
Prevailing Prayer

It is written that Christ died for our sins, and again it is written that if we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins (1 John 1:9). These two texts are written of the same company of persons, namely Christians. We dare not compel the first text to invalidate the second. Both are true and one completes the other. The meaning of the two is that since Christ died for our sins if we confess our sins they will be forgiven. To teach otherwise is to attempt to fly on one wing. I have met some who claim that it is wrong to pray for the same thing twice, the reason being that if we truly believe when we pray we have the answer the first time; any second prayer betrays the unbelief of the first; ergo, let there be no second prayer. There are three things wrong with this teaching. One is that it ignores a large body of Scripture; the second is that it rarely works in practice, even for the saintliest soul; and the third is that, if persisted in, it robs the praying man of two of his mightiest weapons in his warfare with the flesh and the devil, viz., intercession and petition. For let it be said without qualification that the effective intercessor is never a one-prayer man, neither does the successful petitioner win his mighty victories in his first attempt. Had David subscribed to the one-prayer creed he could have reduced his psalms to about one-third their present length. Elijah would not have prayed seven times for rain (and incidentally, there would have been no rain, either), our Lord would not have prayed the third time saying the same words, nor would Paul have besought the Lord thrice (2 Corinthians 12:8) for the removal of his thorn. In fact, if this teaching were true, much wonderful Biblical narrative would have to be rewritten, for the Bible has much to say about continued and persistent prayer.

Having eyes, see ye not? And having ears, hear ye not? - Mark 8:18

In Christ there are infinite depths to be experienced and to become acquainted with; and if we know Him at all as we ought to do, our knowledge of Him will be growing day by day. But how many of us stand at the same spot that we did when we first said that we were Christians?

We are like the Indians that live in rich gold countries, that could only gather the ore that happened to lie upon the surface or could be washed out of the sands of the river; but in this great Christ there are depths of gold, great reefs and veins of it, that will enrich us all if we dig - and we shall not get it unless we do.

He is the boundless ocean. We have contented ourselves with coasting along the shore and making timid excursions from one headland to another; let us strike out into the middle deep and see all the wonders that are there. This great Christ is like the infinite sky with its unresolved nebulae. We have but looked with our poor dim eyes; let us take the telescope that will reveal to us suns blazing where now we only see darkness.

If we have any true knowledge of Jesus Christ at all, it ought to be growing every day. And why does it not? Why does it not? You know a man because you are much with him. As the old proverb says, " If you want to know anybody, you must summer and winter with them "; and if you want to know Jesus Christ, there must be a great deal more meditative thoughtfulness and honest study of His life and work than any of us have ever put forth. We know people, too, by sympathy and by love and by keeping near them. Keep near your Master, Christian men! Oh, it is a wonder and a shame and a sin for us professing Christians that, having tasted the sweetness of His love, we should come down so low as to long for the garbage of earth. Who is fool enough to prefer vinegar to wine, bitter herbs to grapes, dross to gold? Who is there that, having consorted with the King, would gladly herd with ragged rebels? And yet that is what we do. We love one another, the world, people round about us. We labour in the effort to make acquaintances, to surround ourselves with friends, and to fill our hearts from these many fountains. All right and well! But let us seek to know Christ more, and to know Him most chiefly in this, that He is for us the manifest God and the Saviour of the world.

Some of us may have seen a weighty acknowledgment from a distinguished biologist, lately deceased, which strikes me as relevant to this thought. Listen to his confession: " I know from experience the intellectual distractions of scientific research, philosophical speculation, and artistic pleasures, but am also well aware that even when all are taken together, and well sweetened to taste, in respect of consequent reputation, means, social position, etc., the whole concoction is but as high confectionery to a starving man. ... It has been my lot to know not a few of the foremost men of our generation, and I have always observed that this is profoundly true." That is the testimony of a man that had tried the highest, least material forms of such a trust. And I know that there is an "amen! " to it in every heart, and I lift up opposite to all such experiences the grand summary of Christian experience: " We which have believed do enter into rest."