All posts by warren

The Quiet Before the Cross

“And He left them and went out of the city to Bethany, and spent the night there.” — Matthew 21:17, NASB

As the weight of the world’s sin drew closer to His shoulders, Yeshua did something unexpected.

He walked away.

After a long day of ministry in Jerusalem—cleansing the Temple, healing the blind and lame, teaching with fire, and confronting the religious elite—He didn’t stay in the city to strategize or gather a following. He didn’t perform miracles that night. He didn’t organize defenses against the coming betrayal.

Instead, He returned to Bethany.

“And He left them and went out of the city to Bethany, and spent the night there.” (Matthew 21:17, NASB)

There is no record of teaching that night. No dramatic events. No great signs or wonders. Just rest.

A Place of Refuge

Bethany, a village on the eastern slope of the Mount of Olives, had become a place of refuge for Yeshua. It was the home of Mary, Martha, and Lazarus—people who loved Him deeply and received Him without condition. He had recently raised Lazarus from the dead there (John 11). A supper had been hosted in His honor. Mary had anointed His feet with costly perfume, weeping in worship (John 12:1–8). These were not crowds—these were covenant friends.

And so, the King of Glory, knowing the time of suffering was near, sought shelter in communion.

He wasn’t escaping the cross. He was preparing for it.

He wasn’t retreating in fear. He was abiding in love.

Resting in Bethany

This quiet evening is often skipped in Holy Week reflections. Yet it holds a treasure for those who are willing to pause.

Yeshua chose stillness.

Yeshua chose rest.

Yeshua chose presence.

Before enduring agony, He spent time in peace. Before sweating blood in Gethsemane, He dwelled in the comfort of friends. This wasn’t laziness—it was obedient stillness. This was the posture of trust.

“Be still, and know that I am God.” (Psalm 46:10, NASB)

“In repentance and rest you will be saved, in quietness and trust is your strength.” (Isaiah 30:15, NASB)

We are not stronger than our Savior. If He needed rest, so do we. If He withdrew to be with those who honored the presence of God, so should we.

Application for Today

How often do we walk into battles without stopping in Bethany?

How many times have we tried to carry tomorrow’s cross with today’s strength?

We live in a culture that glorifies motion—more work, more action, more content, more noise. But God doesn’t anoint noise. He anoints nearness. He empowers those who kneel before Him. He strengthens those who rest at His feet.

Bethany teaches us that we don’t fight spiritual battles by charging ahead—we win them by abiding first.

So where is your Bethany?

Who are your Marys and Marthas—those who help you press into God’s presence?

Are you resting before you’re running?

Or striving before you’re still?

In stillness You waited, O Lord of Light,
Where the faithful whispered and lamps burned bright.
No throne, no crowd, no crown of acclaim—
Just love in the shadows, and peace in Your name.

Prayer

Father, teach me to return to Bethany.

When pressure rises and battles loom, call me into stillness. Let me sit at Your feet like Mary. Let me serve in love like Martha. Let me believe like Lazarus, who once lay dead but now lives by Your word.

I do not want to run ahead of You—I want to rest in You. I want to hear Your heartbeat before I face the cross You’ve called me to carry.

Help me become a person of Your presence.

In the name of Yeshua, my Rest and my Redeemer,

Amen.

Cleanse the Temple, Bear the Fruit

Beloved, come close and consider the steps of Yeshua on this Holy Monday. Every act was deliberate. Every word, weighty. He was not wandering—He was on a mission from the Father. His eyes were fixed on Jerusalem, and His heart burned with holy fire. He came to restore what religion had corrupted in the House of Prayer. He came to awaken what had fallen asleep.

A solitary fig tree along the ancient path from Bethany to Jerusalem, leafy yet barren—silent witness to Yeshua’s holy judgment.

In the morning, as He walked from Bethany toward the city, He was hungry. He saw a fig tree with leaves, signaling life—but when He came to it, He found no fruit. Then Yeshua spoke, “May no one ever eat fruit from you again!” (Mark 11:14 NASB). It was not just about the tree. It was a prophetic sign. Israel had leaves—rituals, traditions, temples—but no fruit. And the judgment was not delayed.

God does not delight in the form of religion. He desires the fruit of righteousness. As it is written, “Every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire”(Matthew 7:19 NASB). This is the hour to search your heart. Are there leaves but no fruit? Activity without intimacy? Noise without prayer? Yeshua is looking for the fruit of faith, humility, repentance, and love.

And then He entered Jerusalem, heading for the House of Prayer.

He found it loud with trade, thick with greed. The courts that should have echoed with songs of praise were filled instead with coins and bargains. So He overturned the tables of the money changers and the seats of those selling doves. He drove them out with authority, declaring, “It is written, ‘My house shall be called a house of prayer,’ but you are making it a den of robbers” (Matthew 21:13 NASB; Isaiah 56:7). That house was not theirs—it was His Father’s.

Clean the Temple
Jesus drives the merchants out of the temple

Beloved, you are now that temple, the new House of Prayer. The veil was torn. The blood was shed. And the Holy Spirit came not to dwell in buildings but in believing hearts. “Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit who is in you… and that you are not your own?” (1 Corinthians 6:19 NASB). So the question presses in—what tables must be overturned in your soul?What thieves have crept into your mind, stealing your time, your worship, your focus?

Yeshua doesn’t cleanse the temple to shame—it is always to restore. After the tables fell, the blind and the lame came, and He healed them (Matthew 21:14). The children began to shout, “Hosanna to the Son of David!” and joy returned to the courts. When we cleanse the temple, we become the true House of Prayer, and the glory of God comes near. When we restore the altar, the fire of Heaven falls.

And when evening came, He returned to Bethany—not to isolate, but to rest in fellowship. He stayed among those who loved Him—Mary, Martha, and Lazarus. Even the Son of God drew strength from the warmth of believing friends. Let this speak to you deeply. You were not meant to fight alone. You were not made for isolated struggle. The joy of the Lord often comes through the fellowship of the saints.

As it is written, “Behold, how good and how pleasant it is for brothers to dwell together in unity!” (Psalm 133:1 NASB). And again, “Let us consider how to encourage one another in love and good deeds, not forsaking our own assembling together… but encouraging one another” (Hebrews 10:24–25 NASB). In this hour, the enemy tries to isolate, but God calls you to the table of fellowship, to the circle of prayer, to the family of faith.

So today, beloved, walk the path Yeshua walked:

  • Examine the fruit of your life.
  • Let Him cleanse the temple of your heart.
  • Restore the altar of prayer.
  • And seek joy in the fellowship of believers.

Do not delay. Do not harden your heart. The Lord of the temple has come, and He still speaks: “My house shall be called a house of prayer.” Let it begin with you.

Search me, Lord, and test the flame,
Burn the chaff, but leave Your Name.
Make this heart Your holy place—
A house of prayer, a throne of grace.

Prayer

Holy Yeshua, come into the temple of my soul and turn over every table that does not please You. Remove all idols, all distractions, and all false peace. I repent of fruitless works and distant worship. Cleanse me, Lord, and fill me again with the fire of Your Spirit. Let my heart become a house of prayer. Let joy and healing rise where once there was noise and compromise. Surround me with godly fellowship, and teach me to draw strength from Your people. I welcome You, King of Glory—come and reign in me. In Your precious Name, Amen.

See Also

Worship Comes First

“Worship the Lord your God, and serve Him only.” — Matthew 4:10 (NASB)

Children of the Most High, let your hearts be still before the weight of this command: “Worship the Lord your God, and serve Him only.” It is not a suggestion. It is not a light instruction for the casual believer. This is the cry of Heaven—the heartbeat of the throne. God demands first our worship, then our work. He who fashioned us in the secret place calls us not to build, not to strive, not to labor first—but to bow, to behold, to burn with holy love.

This is Palm Sunday. The streets once filled with voices shouting, “Hosanna! Blessed is He who comes in the Name of the Lord!” Palms waved. Cloaks fell to the dust. They worshiped with their words, but their hearts were far off. In a week’s time, the same crowd would cry, “Crucify Him.” They celebrated a King, but not a cross. They loved the moment, not the Man. They wanted victory, but not surrender. Worship that does not lead to obedience is only noise.

Yeshua, tempted in the wilderness, responded not with might or miracle, but with adoration: “Worship the Lord your God, and serve Him only.” Satan offered Him dominion without devotion, but our Savior would not trade intimacy with the Father for influence in the world. The Church must not either.

O beloved, how quickly we forget. A soul is stirred, and we say, “Now go! Preach, teach, build!” But God says, “Wait. Sit. Worship.” The disciples, even after walking with Yeshua, were not released to the nations until they tarried in Jerusalem. Not because they lacked knowledge, but because they lacked power. And not just power to work—but power to worship. Power to be undone in God’s presence. Power to love Him rightly.

The Holy Spirit did not fall in a marketplace. He descended upon worshipers in an upper room. Tongues of fire rested on heads bowed low. The power they received was not primarily for signs, but for surrender. Not first for proclamation, but for praise. God’s greatest works are born in the womb of worship.

Hear the truth plainly: A worker without worship becomes a performer. A servant without adoration becomes a slave. But the worshiper—he cannot help but serve. He is caught up in the beauty of God, and his hands move only in response to the heartbeat of Heaven.

This is why many burn out. This is why churches grow cold even as programs multiply. Because they have built altars to usefulness and forsaken the altar of awe. They labor without gazing. They produce without presence. But the Spirit of God will not bless what bypasses worship.

Let your soul be gripped by this: “Worship the Lord your God, and serve Him only.” The order is divine. The pattern is perfect. The power flows from it.

Speechless in the Presence of God
Speechless in the Presence of God

When Moses met God on the mountain, he worshiped. When Isaiah saw the Lord high and lifted up, he was undone. When John, the beloved, beheld the risen Christ, he fell as though dead. Before they moved, they worshiped. Before they spoke, they trembled. Before they led, they adored.

Do not seek the assignment until you have seen His face. Do not run into the world with empty hands and distracted hearts. Let the fire fall first upon your altar. Let your soul be enraptured, admiring, adoring. Then, and only then, go.

For the work done by the worshiper carries eternity within it. It is not of man, but of God. It bears His fragrance, His power, His authority. The worshiper serves from overflow. His mission is an echo of Heaven. His labor, an act of love.

So return, child of God. Return to the secret place. Return to the feet of Yeshua. Lay down your tools. Set aside your ambitions. Lift your eyes. Worship comes first.

Before the hands, let hearts arise,
To seek the flame that never dies.
No greater work than this I find—
To love the Lord with all my mind.

Prayer

Holy Spirit, awaken me again to the glory of worship. I repent for running ahead without resting at Your feet. Draw me near to the altar, where the only fire that matters falls. Teach me to serve not out of striving, but out of surrender. Let my lips burn with praise before they speak of You. Let my heart be pierced before my hands are used. Restore to me the wonder, the awe, the holy fear that comes from seeing You rightly. Yeshua, You are worthy of all. My life is Yours—first in worship, then in service. In Your holy name, Amen.

See Also

Teach Us to Pray Like Moses

There are prayers born in silence, and there are prayers born in fire. Psalm 90 is the latter—a cry formed in the wilderness, where time stretches long and life is stripped bare. It is the prayer of a prophet who stood between a holy God and a sinful people. Teach us to pray like Moses—to stand where heaven meets earth, trembling, yet unshaken—rooted in the eternal.

This is no shallow prayer. It does not begin with man’s needs, but with God’s nature. It does not hide sin—it exposes it. It does not rush—it waits. It asks not merely for relief, but for wisdom, mercy, and eternal fruitfulness. If you would learn to pray like Moses, you must learn to pray in the shadow of eternity.

1. Anchor Your Heart in God’s Timelessness

“Lord, You have been our dwelling place in all generations.” (Psalm 90:1, NASB)

The prayer of Moses begins with God as home. Before requests are made, worship rises. This is the foundation of true prayer—not panic, but praise. Moses teaches that God has always been the refuge of His people. He is not distant. He is not new. He is ancient, tried, and sure.

To pray like Moses, begin not with your fears but with the faithfulness of the Lord. Name His past works. Remember His unshakable presence. When you pray, let your soul rest in the truth that God is your dwelling place, generation to generation.

2. Exalt the God Who Was Before All Things

“Before the mountains were born…from everlasting to everlasting, You are God.” (Psalm 90:2, NASB)

Moses speaks from the heights of revelation. He exalts the eternality of God—the truth that God existed before time and will exist beyond its end. This is not poetic flourish—it is spiritual clarity.

Prayer that moves heaven begins in awe. God is not a helper to summon; He is the I AM, the eternal One. To pray like Moses is to place your temporal worries into the hands of the One who reigns outside of time. This perspective reshapes the heart.

3. Embrace the Brevity of Life and the Need for Humility

“You turn mortals back into dust…a thousand years in Your sight are like yesterday.” (Psalm 90:3–4, NASB)

Moses teaches us that prayer must be honest. We are dust. We fade. The God who made us knows our limits. In His eyes, generations pass like a breath.

To pray like Moses is to pray with humble clarity. It is to lay down pride, confess our frailty, and recognize the urgency of each passing day. This does not lead to despair—but to deeper dependence. For when we acknowledge our limits, we throw ourselves wholly upon the mercy of the limitless One.

4. Bring Sin into the Light

“You have placed our guilty deeds before You, our hidden sins in the light of Your presence.” (Psalm 90:8, NASB)

There is no hiding in the light of God. Moses knew this. He saw how sin kindled God’s righteous anger and how only confession and intercession could stay His hand.

To pray like Moses is to bring every hidden thing into the open. No excuses. No diversions. Only raw truth before a holy God. And yet this is not the end—it is the beginning of restoration. For God desires truth in the inward parts, and He covers the repentant in mercy.

5. Ask for Wisdom in a Wasting World

“So teach us to number our days, that we may present to You a heart of wisdom.” (Psalm 90:12, NASB)

This is the great cry of the psalm—the centerpiece of the prayer. Life is short. Troubles are many. So what does Moses ask for? Not more time, but wisdom. Not longer years, but a heart rightly ordered before God.

To pray like Moses is to ask God to teach you the value of each day, to walk in purpose, to waste nothing. It is to exchange shallow living for eternal vision.

6. Cry Out for Mercy and Satisfaction in God

“Satisfy us in the morning with Your graciousness, that we may sing for joy and rejoice all our days.” (Psalm 90:14, NASB)

Here the tone turns. Moses, who beheld plagues and wonders, who endured rebellion and wrath, knows where true joy is found. Not in victory, not in ease—but in God’s steadfast love.

To pray like Moses is to ask for mercy daily, to rise with a cry for soul satisfaction in the presence of God. This is the prayer that sustains in desert places. This is the joy that outlives sorrow.

7. Intercede for God’s Glory to Be Revealed Again

“Let Your work appear to Your servants and Your majesty to their children.” (Psalm 90:16, NASB)

Moses does not end his prayer with himself. He looks ahead—to the next generation. He pleads for the glory of God to be seen afresh, for His power to move once more among His people.

To pray like Moses is to labor in intercession, to yearn for God’s majesty to awaken the hearts of children and grandchildren. It is to believe that the God who parted the sea can still move mountains today.

8. Ask God to Establish What Only He Can

“Confirm for us the work of our hands; yes, confirm the work of our hands.” (Psalm 90:17, NASB)

At last, Moses asks for lasting fruit. He does not want empty toil. He wants labor made eternal by the hand of God.

To pray like Moses is to cry out: “Make it count, Lord.” Let the work of my life—however small—be sealed with Your favor. Establish it. Breathe on it. Let it echo into eternity.

O God who dwells where time has no end,
Establish the path where Your servants bend.
Teach us to walk with hearts made wise,
And let Your glory fill our skies.

Prayer

O Lord, our dwelling place in every generation, teach us to pray like Moses. Let our prayers rise in reverence, shaped by eternity and rooted in truth. Help us confess what You already see, to number our days, and to walk wisely. Satisfy us each morning with Your mercy, and let our work endure by Your hand. May Your glory rest upon us and shine through us. In the name of Yeshua our Messiah, we pray. Amen.

See Also

God’s Spirit Dwells in You

“Don’t you know that you yourselves are God’s temple and that God’s Spirit dwells in your midst?”
—1 Corinthians 3:16 (NASB)

Beloved, hear the truth that echoes through eternity: you are the temple of the living God. Not built with human hands, not constructed from brick or stone, but fashioned by grace and made holy by the blood of the Lamb. The Spirit of God—Ruach HaKodesh—does not visit you, He indwells you. He does not pass by. He stays. He abides. This is no metaphor, no poetic suggestion. This is your present reality.

Yet how many of us walk as if we are vacant sanctuaries? How often is our speech, our conduct, our thoughts—divorced from the indwelling presence of the Holy Spirit? A.W. Tozer wrote with piercing clarity, “Whether He is present or absent makes no real difference to anyone.” If that grieves us, it should. And if it doesn’t, it must.

God’s Spirit dwells in you. Say it aloud. Let that reality stir your soul. The Holy Spirit is not a shadow in the corner of your doctrine, a mere name in a doxology. He is God Himself, equal with the Father and the Son, worthy of glory, honor, and full surrender. Anything less is not true worship.

John the Apostle saw the mystery and majesty of the indwelling God. He wrote, “By this we know that He abides in us, by the Spirit whom He has given us” (1 John 3:24, NASB). You are not left to your own strength. You are not meant to live the Christian life alone. The Holy Spirit has come to lead you into truth, convict you of sin, empower you for holiness, and seal you for redemption.

But the Spirit will not share space with idols. He does not dwell in a temple that refuses His rule. He is not a guest—He is the rightful owner. And He comes not just to comfort, but to cleanse. Not just to whisper peace, but to burn away what does not belong.

If we truly believed that God’s Spirit dwells in us, our lives would look different. Holiness would be more than a concept—it would be our heartbeat. Our prayers would burn hotter. Our love would stretch further. Our eyes would stay fixed on Yeshua, and our hearts would long for more of Him and less of us.

So today, yield your temple. Let the presence of the Holy Spirit be more than a footnote in your theology. Let Him shape your thoughts, govern your actions, and fill every empty place. Invite Him to awaken what has grown cold. Ask Him to purify what has been compromised. You are not your own. You were bought at a price. God’s Spirit dwells in you.

I lift my heart, O Flame divine,
Come cleanse my soul with fire;
Let every chamber be made Thine,
And kindle holy desire.

Prayer

Father, awaken my heart to the glory of Your Spirit within me. Forgive me for treating Your indwelling as a concept and not a consuming fire. I surrender my body, my thoughts, my will—every part of me—to Your Spirit. Let Him rule where I have resisted. Let Him fill what I have left empty. Make me a living temple that glorifies Your Name. In Yeshua’s holy name, amen.

See Also

Come to the Lord

Rest, Rise, and Be Healed

Come to the Lord. He calls in a voice not of wrath, but of mercy. He does not shout to condemn; He whispers to invite. His arms are open, stretched wide with the scars of love. He is not distant. He is near. Yeshua, the Son of God, cries out to every weary soul: “Come to Me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28, NASB). Come to the Lord, for His promise is rest, and His gift is peace.

Are you tired of the striving? Burdened by battles no one sees? Weighed down by guilt, fear, or sorrow? Come to the Lord. The world demands more than it gives. It offers shallow waters that cannot cleanse and empty promises that never satisfy. But El Shaddai—the All-Sufficient God—calls you to Himself. “Come, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters; and you who have no money, come, buy and eat” (Isaiah 55:1, NASB). He has what your soul was made for. He does not charge. He does not shame. He gives freely.

Come to the Lord
He brings healing in His wings

He offers more than rest—He offers renewal. “Those who wait for the Lord will gain new strength; they will mount up with wings like eagles” (Isaiah 40:31, NASB). Not crawl. Not stumble. Soar. Come to the Lord, and He will raise you on wings of strength. You will run and not grow weary. You will walk and not faint. You were not born for bondage—you were born to rise.

Do not think you must carry yourself to Him. He has already carried you. “I carried you on eagles’ wings and brought you to Myself” (Exodus 19:4, NASB). This has always been His plan—not merely to rescue you from danger, but to bring you into His presence. The goal is not escape. The goal is communion. Not a religion. A relationship.

And when you come to the Lord, you will not only find rest and strength—you will find healing in His wings“But for you who fear My name, the sun of righteousness will rise with healing in its wings; and you will go forward and leap like calves from the stall” (Malachi 4:2, NASB). His wings are not only mighty—they are merciful. There is healing under His covering. Emotional wounds. Physical afflictions. Secret scars. Nothing is beyond the reach of His mercy.

Let your soul be restored. Let your spirit be made new. “The Lord is my Shepherd, I will not be in need… He restores my soul” (Psalm 23:1,3, NASB). He leads you beside quiet waters. He sets a table for you in the presence of your enemies. Your cup overflows not because life is easy—but because He is enough.

To come to the Lord is to trade what is heavy for what is holy. “Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me… For My yoke is comfortable, and My burden is light” (Matthew 11:29–30, NASB). He does not offer an escape from life—but He gives you His strength for the journey.

Come to the Lord. Do not wait until you feel worthy. You never will. Come broken, and He will bind your wounds. Come weak, and He will lift you. Come now—while the invitation is open and the way is clear.

Beneath Your wings, I find my flight,
The dawn breaks through my longest night.
With eagle’s strength and soul restored,
I rise to walk beside my Lord.

Prayer

Father, I come to You in the name of Yeshua. You are the lifter of my head, the strength of my days, and the healer of my soul. I come not in my own worth but by the blood of the Lamb. Carry me on eagle’s wings. Hide me in the shadow of Your presence. Let the sun of righteousness rise over me with healing in His wings. Restore my soul. Quiet my fears. Fill me with Your peace. Teach me to walk in step with You. I come to the Lord—again and again—until I am forever home in Your arms. In Yeshua’s name, amen.

See Also

God’s Hand in Every Ministry

“In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make your paths straight.”
Proverbs 3:6, NASB

Church, we are being summoned—not by man, not by program, but by the living voice of God—to place every ministry under His hand. Not just what we do for Him but who we are before Him. He is asking for a deeper surrender, a fuller dependence, a cleaner altar, showing God’s hand in every ministry.

Before revival breaks out in our communities, it must be born in our homes. And before it can rest on our homes, it must begin in our hearts. We must first put our house in order—personally, then as families, and then as the Church. Yes, God in His mercy will use us where we are, as we are—but He longs to give us a greater measure of Himself. And that measure comes only when we lay aside the sins we’ve tolerated and bring them to the altar in repentance.

It is written, “Therefore if anyone cleanses himself from these things, he will be an instrument for honor, sanctified, useful to the Master, prepared for every good work” (2 Timothy 2:21, NASB). God doesn’t want polished performance—He wants pure vessels. So we come to Him, not to impress, but to be transformed. We lay every prideful thought, every selfish motive, every hidden compromise at His feet. And we ask—Lord, fill us with Your fiery Spirit of Life!

To those who lead ministries: the Spirit is calling you to move at His pace, not your own. Seek His wisdom. Ask Him what is for now, and what is for later. Only the Lord knows the timing of the seed and the harvest. If you wait on Him, He will lead you with clarity, not confusion. If you trust His Spirit more than your strategy, He will build what no man can tear down. This reveals God’s hand in every ministry.

Let us look to the next generation—not with fear, but with fire. Speak life over them. Invite them into the kingdom, not as spectators, but as warriors in training. God is stirring up sons and daughters to prophesy, to worship, to carry His presence boldly. Will we make space for them? Will we believe for greater things?

And beloved, do not ignore the war for your own soul. The Lord is willing to break every chain, silence every lie, and lead you into freedom—but you must be willing to let go. Lay down every burden that weighs you. Cast off the sins that cling so tightly. For “where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty” (2 Corinthians 3:17, NASB). Trusting God’s hand in every ministry helps us find that liberty.

We must be united—not just in purpose, but in love. Real love. Not polite agreement, but supernatural, sacrificial love that covers offenses and binds the Church together. “Beyond all these things put on love, which is the perfect bond of unity” (Colossians 3:14, NASB). When we walk in this kind of love, the world will know who we belong to.

Above all, our cry is this: Come, Lord Jesus, dwell among us. Let Your manifest presence rest in every ministry, every meeting, every moment. Not a visitation. A habitation. We do not want the stories of Your glory—we want the weight of Your glory now. We want You, El Shaddai, to lead, to fill, to reign in every ministry, showing God’s hand in every ministry.

And over West Boylston, we prophesy peace. We declare blessing. Let the name of Yeshua be lifted high in every street, every home, every heart. When God’s people humble themselves, pray, seek His face, and turn from wicked ways, He heals the land.

Put my house in holy line,
Every room by Your design,
Cleanse the halls with sacred flame,
That You alone receive the name.

Prayer

Holy God, we yield. Search our hearts. Set our houses in order. Let repentance flow like a river and pride be cast into the fire. We lay every sin on the altar. Fill us with Your fiery Spirit of Life. Reign in every ministry—lead us in truth, timing, and love. Touch our youth with boldness. Heal our homes with unity. Dwell in our midst, not just as a guest, but as King. And may West Boylston be known as a place where Your hand is at work, and Your name is lifted high, showing God’s hand in every ministry.

In the name of Yeshua,

Amen.

See Also

The In Between

Faithful When the Role Fades

What Is The In Between?

The In Between is that quiet, often painful season when your role in ministry or service fades—but no new assignment has come. You used to serve actively, maybe even visibly. You saw what needed to be done and stepped in. But over time, others took over. You offered to help, but were turned away. Now you wait, uncertain, unseen.

This is not failure. This is not rejection. The In Between is God’s sacred pause, where He prepares your heart for what’s next.

God Sees You in The In Between

Even if man doesn’t see you, God always sees. He is El Roi, the God who saw Hagar in the wilderness (Genesis 16:13). When your help is no longer received, and your hands feel empty, remember this: God hasn’t forgotten you.

“Your Father who sees what is done in secret will reward you.” (Matthew 6:4, NASB)

Many of God’s greatest servants walked through The In Between.

  • Joseph was faithful in prison before being promoted to Pharaoh’s palace.
  • Moses spent 40 hidden years in Midian before returning to lead Israel.
  • Even Yeshua walked through 40 days in the wilderness before His public ministry began.

The pattern is clear: before the release comes the refining.

When Your Role Fades, Let Your Faith Rise

The In Between is not the time to retreat or complain. It’s the time to press into God. Your value was never in a position—it was always in your identity as a servant of El Shaddai.

“Whatever you do, do your work heartily, as for the Lord and not for people.” (Colossians 3:23, NASB)

When no one calls on you, call on Him. When the tasks are given to others, pray for them. When the door closes, worship at the threshold. God sees your heart more than your output.

Don’t Miss the Purpose of The In Between

God may be pruning you—not punishing you.

“Every branch that bears fruit, He prunes it so that it may bear more fruit.” (John 15:2, NASB)

This is your altar season. A time to offer Him the unseen moments. To lay down pride, offense, and fear. To choose humility when your gift isn’t received. To grow deeper when the spotlight is gone.

If you walk through The In Between with patience and faith, you will emerge with more maturity, more power, and a deeper love for God.

When silence grows, and roles dissolve,
Still I will wait, though none resolve.
The whisper stirs where crowds have gone,
And there I find You, El Elyon.

Final Encouragement

If you’re in The In Betweenyou are not stuck—you are being sanctified. You are not dismissed—you are being developed. Keep showing up. Keep seeking the face of God. Keep your heart clean and your spirit ready.

God is not done with you. He is just getting started.

Prayer for Those in The In Between

Heavenly Father, I surrender this quiet season to You. If You have hidden me, let me worship in the shadow. If others reject my offer to serve, help me to love anyway. Teach me to wait without bitterness, to pray without being seen, and to trust that You will move me again in Your perfect timing. Make The In Between a place of deep growth and quiet strength. In Yeshua’s name, amen.

See Also

Revived by the Spirit 

Escaping the Trap of a Dead Church

“To the angel of the church in Sardis write: These are the words of Him who has the seven Spirits of God and the seven stars: ‘I know your deeds, that you have a name that you are alive, and yet you are dead.’” – Revelation 3:1 (NASB)

Revived by the Spirit. That is the call. That is the need. That is the cry the Spirit speaks to the churches even now.

You may have the name. You may have the reputation. People might look at your church, your ministry, your life, and say, “There’s someone on fire for God.” But the Lord who sees beyond appearances speaks a more sobering truth: “You are dead.” These are not the words of a critic. They are the voice of Yeshua, the One who walks among the lampstands and holds the seven stars in His hand. He sees. He knows. He grieves. But He also invites.

The danger of living among the remains

Just as a lifeless body is called “the remains,” many churches today are but the remains of what once was. There may still be motion, music, strategy, and sermons, but if the Holy Spirit has withdrawn, then all that’s left is the form without the fire“For the form of godliness” without its power is a deception (2 Timothy 3:5, NASB).

Where the Spirit of God is absent, the church becomes an organization instead of a living Body. You begin to rely on business models instead of brokenness, marketing instead of prayer, and clever strategies instead of the Spirit’s leading. But the Church is not a brand. It is a Bride. And a bride without her Groom is not complete—she is waiting, or worse, wandering.

The prophet Ezekiel saw this when the glory of the Lord departed the temple (Ezekiel 10:18). The structure remained, the rituals continued, but Ichabod—“the glory has departed”—was written in the Spirit. Let it not be written over you.

How to be revived by the Spirit

But take heart. If the Word convicts you, it also calls you. If you feel the coldness in your heart, if you see that your church is operating on autopilot, it means the Spirit is still reaching out. He hasn’t left you to die. He is inviting you to live again.

“Wake up, and strengthen the things that remain, which were about to die; for I have not found your deeds completed in the sight of My God.” – Revelation 3:2 (NASB)

The way back begins with waking up. It is time to shake yourself from slumber and remember what it means to live for God—not by might, nor by power, but by My Spirit, says the Lord of Hosts (Zechariah 4:6). Revival does not come by accident. It comes by hunger, humility, and holiness.

You must return to the altar. Not the one made with hands, but the altar of your heart. Cry out, “Lord, breathe on me again. I don’t want to be the remains. I want to burn for You.” Let the wind of the Spirit shake your bones. Let the fire of God refine your desires. Let the voice of the Lord awaken every dead thing inside of you.

For the Lord is not looking for clever programs. He’s not impressed by packed rooms or smooth sermons. He is searching for those who will worship Him in spirit and truth (John 4:23). He is looking for living sacrifices, holy and acceptable to Him (Romans 12:1). The Holy Spirit is not a luxury. He is your lifeblood.

You were born to burn

You were not created to settle for a name without substance. You were not saved to operate in the flesh. You were born of the Spirit to live by the Spirit and walk in the Spirit (Galatians 5:25). So return to the Lord with fasting and weeping and mourning (Joel 2:12). Cry out until the fire returns. Dig until the well flows again.

Beloved, you were born to burn. Don’t be content with ashes. The Holy Spirit has not changed. He still comes upon those who wait, who hunger, who obey. Do not look back on what God once did. Seek Him now, for He is near to all who call upon Him in truth (Psalm 145:18). It’s time to be revived by the Spirit.

Let fire descend on hearts once cold,
Let breath return where death held sway.
Revive the ruins, break the mold,
And raise us in Your light today.

Prayer

El Shaddai, we repent of operating without You. Forgive us for relying on methods, models, and movements instead of pressing into Your presence. Holy Spirit, breathe on us again. Revive what was dead. Reignite our hearts. Fill Your Church with fire—not just emotion, but holy power. Let the world see a people alive in You, moving in You, shining with Your glory. We are not content with the remains. We long to be fully alive in You. In Yeshua’s name, amen.

See Also

The Spirit of Expectation

When We Believe, He Comes

Beloved, something eternal stirs in the heart that waits on God. Not with arms folded, but with arms lifted. Not in sleepy ritual, but with trembling faith. This is the Spirit of Expectation—the holy fire that has always preceded the movement of the Holy Spirit. And it is this fire that God is kindling once again. This Spirit of Expectation must be embraced.

I have seen many things over the years—church services filled with passion, others heavy with routine. But one recent moment marked me deeply. I was at a Friday evening worship service, simple and quiet. A husband and wife led us in just one song. After it ended, they declared over the congregation, “The Lord is here.” And He was. Not in theory, not in concept—He was tangibly present. Glory broke in like the sun through storm clouds. Why? Because someone believed. Someone proclaimed with faith. Expectation opened the door, and the King walked through.

“Blessed is she who has believed that the Lord would fulfill His promises to her!” (Luke 1:45, NASB). This blessing, spoken over Mary, is a beacon to us all. She didn’t wait to see the promise before believing—she believed first. And so must we. When we sing our songs without faith, we offer noise. But when we worship in expectation, heaven listens, and God responds.

The early Church understood this. They waited in the upper room, not bored but burning. They had heard the words of Yeshua—“You will be baptized with the Holy Spirit not many days from now” (Acts 1:5, NASB)—and they believed. So they waited. Not passively, but “continually devoting themselves to prayer” (Acts 1:14, NASB). And then, “suddenly a noise like a violent rushing wind came from heaven” (Acts 2:2, NASB). The fire didn’t come to the curious; it came to the convinced. Their Spirit of Expectation brought divine results.

Expectation is the forerunner of glory. Before the Red Sea parted, Moses lifted his staff in obedience, expecting God to act. “Do not fear! Stand by and see the salvation of the Lord”(Exodus 14:13, NASB). Before the fire consumed the altar, Elijah soaked the sacrifice, expecting God to respond with fire (1 Kings 18:36–38). And He did. Why? Because they expected Him to move.

Moses on the Mountain — a lone prophet stands with staff in hand, watching the light of God break through the valley, expectant for the fire to fall.

The tragedy today is not that God is silent—it’s that we no longer expect Him to speak. We host services without watching for Him. We pray without believing for answers. We gather without hunger. And yet, the Lord waits to be gracious to us (Isaiah 30:18). He desires to be welcomed, not as a guest, but as the rightful King. This Spirit of Expectation must be rekindled.

You must rise, dear one. Awake from slumber. Shake off the dust of disappointment and the cloak of unbelief. “Arise, shine; for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you” (Isaiah 60:1, NASB). Don’t just go through the motions—press in with belief. Expect God to break in when you pray. Expect Him to heal when you ask. Expect Him to speak when you listen. The Spirit still moves where He is wanted. Embrace the Spirit of Expectation in every aspect of your life.

That night at worship reminded me: it doesn’t take a stadium or a crowd. It takes faith. It takes someone who will say with confidence, “The Lord is here,” and mean it. When that word was spoken, it wasn’t a suggestion—it was a declaration. And He answered faith with presence.

The Church must recover this. Revival will not come to the disinterested. It will come to those who cry out, “I wait for the Lord, my soul waits, and I wait for His word. My soul waits in hope for the Lord more than the watchmen for the morning” (Psalm 130:5–6, NASB).

Are you watching? Are you waiting? Or are you merely going through the motions? Yeshua is ready to visit His people, but we must prepare Him room. Let your heart become an upper room again—filled with prayer, filled with worship, filled with expectation. Let the Spirit of Expectation guide your every step.

When we believe, He comes. When we proclaim in faith, He is faithful to answer. This is the Spirit of Expectation. And it is time for the Church to awaken.

I watched the sky, I watched the flame,
I waited long with lifted head.
He came, not late, nor wrapped in shame—
He came just as the prophets said.

Prayer

Lord Yeshua, awaken in me a Spirit of Expectation. Forgive me for every time I sang without belief, prayed without hope, and gathered without hunger. Stir my soul to long for You again. I do not want empty religion—I want Your presence. Let my heart believe that You will do what You have said. I lift my eyes to You. Come, Lord—come into my worship, my home, my life. I wait for You. I believe You. I expect You. Amen.

See Also