Genesis 49:10

This verse comes from a long deathbed blessing spoken by Jacob — also known as Israel — over each of his twelve sons, who would go on to become the founding fathers of the twelve tribes of Israel. Jacob prophesies that the tribe of Judah, his fourth son's descendants, will carry royal authority — symbolized by the scepter and ruler's staff — until the one person arrives to whom that authority ultimately belongs, and the nations follow him. Christians throughout history have read this as a prophecy pointing to Jesus, who descended from the tribe of Judah, is called the Lion of Judah in the New Testament, and is believed to be the rightful holder of all authority. It is a thread woven at the very beginning of Israel's story that stretches thousands of years forward.

God of ancient promises, you kept a word spoken over a dying man for thousands of years before it was fulfilled. Forgive me for the promises of yours I have quietly stopped believing. Rekindle hope where I have let it go cold, and remind me that your timelines are not mine. Amen.

There are promises so old that entire generations lived and died without seeing them fulfilled — and still held on. Jacob is dying when he speaks these words. He will never see a king rise from Judah. He is planting a seed he will not watch grow, and yet he names its fruit as though it is already certain. What moves me is the phrase 'until he comes' — not 'soon,' not 'in your lifetime,' just until. Centuries crawled past. Empires rose and crumbled. People surely wondered if the thread had finally snapped. And then, in a province called Galilee, a child was born to a woman named Mary, from a lineage tracing straight back through Judah. Christians believe the scepter finally found its owner. If a promise spoken over a dying man's bed could hold for thousands of years, it is worth sitting with one honest question: what promise of God in your own life have you quietly stopped believing?