All posts by warren

Speechless in the Presence of God

Have you ever been so overwhelmed by the presence of God that words failed you? I do not write to you with human wisdom but as one who has beheld His glory. There is a holy hush—a moment beyond language—where the soul is left speechless in the presence of God. This silence is not empty; it is full of awe, overflowing with revelation, and saturated with divine love.

Scripture tells us what happened on the Mount of Transfiguration: “While he was speaking, a cloud appeared and covered them … A voice came from the cloud, saying, ‘This is My Son, My Chosen One; listen to Him!’” (Luke 9:34–35, NASB). In that moment, the disciples were speechless. Not because they were confused, but because they were overtaken by glory.

What Does It Mean to Be Speechless in the Presence of God?

Not all silence is sacred. Some remain silent because they are spiritually dry. But when the Holy Spirit reigns in a fully surrendered heart, silence becomes sacred space. It is the final crescendo after praise and worship have poured out every word we can offer.

Here is the divine progression:

  1. Praise bursts forth — we speak, pray, and testify.
  2. Worship rises — songs overflow from the heart.
  3. Silence descends — not from lack, but from glory too heavy to carry in words, leaving us truly speechless.

This isn’t stillness born of confusion or apathy. Isaiah’s silence cried out, “Woe is me, for I am ruined! Because I am a man of unclean lips … for my eyes have seen the King, the Lord of armies” (Isaiah 6:5, NASB). When you see God rightly, you know that no song is worthy and no word rich enough.

Why Silence Can Bring You Closer to God

A. W. Tozer wrote, “More spiritual progress can be made in one short moment of speechless silence in the awesome presence of God than in years of mere study.” Why? Because in those moments, God writes on your heart directly. You don’t just hear about Him—you experience Him.

We often fill our spiritual lives with noise—devotionals, sermons, and prayers. But when was the last time you waited? When was the last time you stepped beyond the veil and stood in His presence without asking, without speaking—just beholding and being speechless?

Moses entered the cloud and came out radiant (Exodus 34:29). You too are invited—not to observe from afar, but to enter the cloud of glory, the presence of El Shaddai. Not just once, but daily.

The Cloud of Glory

Imagine a traveler standing before a great mountain shrouded in mist. As he steps into the cloud, he can no longer see the path or the world behind him. But he hears a whisper in the stillness—not from outside, but within. He has entered the presence, not with understanding, but with surrender. There, in the silence, the Voice speaks clearly, leaving him speechless.

How to Cultivate Holy Silence in Your Life

If you long to be transformed and are hungry for revival in your soul, create space for God’s presence. Here’s how:

  • Set aside time daily not just for prayer, but for silence before God.
  • Turn off distractions. Let your phone, music, and noise wait.
  • Enter with worship. Let praise rise, then let the Spirit lead into silence.
  • Listen and wait. Don’t rush the moment. God speaks in the stillness.

These moments may be short, but their fruit is eternal. You will not always walk away with answers, but you will walk away with Him. And that is the goal.

Final Thoughts: The Power of the Cloud

God in the Glory

You do not need to fear the silence. Embrace it. For it is there you will truly hear Him. When words are stripped away, what remains is faith. What remains is intimacy. Be speechless in the presence of God, and you will come to know Him as you never have before.

Prayer

Spirit of the Living God, lead us into Your cloud. Take full authority in our hearts. Teach us to speak, then teach us to sing. And when the moment is too holy for either, teach us to be silent before You, utterly speechless. We want more of You and less of us. Let us hear Your voice in the stillness, and let Your presence change us forever. In Yeshua’s name, Amen.

Share this post if your heart longs for more of Him.

See Also

Grace Before Judgment

Overcoming Hypocrisy

Article 11 in the 12-part series on Overcoming Sin

God is light, and in Him there is no darkness at all. Yet how quickly we reach for shadows when our hearts are exposed. The sin of hypocrisy does not lie in weakness—but in pretending we have none. It is the sin of the masked soul, speaking of holiness while quietly bowing to pride. Hypocrisy is not just misrepresentation—it is spiritual deception. And it must be overcome by grace before judgment.

You were not made to perform. You were made to be holy—set apart, sincere, and free. And that freedom is found only when the grace of God pierces through every facade and awakens truth in your inward parts. If you would walk in the Spirit, you must walk in the light, extending grace before judgment.

The Disease of Pretending

Hypocrisy thrives where fear reigns. It fears being seen, fears being wrong, fears being weak. And so it wears a face. The lips say “Amen,” but the heart hides resentment. The hands serve, but the soul withholds. The outward man shines, while the inward man is starving.

Yeshua called out this sin—not because He hated the sinner, but because He longed for truth. “Woe to you… hypocrites! For you are like whitewashed tombs, which on the outside appear beautiful, but inside they are full of dead men’s bones” (Matthew 23:27, NASB). These were not outlaws or pagans—these were the respected, the devout, the leaders. But they had traded sincerity for performance, presence for platform, grace for self-glory. Grace before judgment was forgotten, leading to spiritual decay.

You were not made to be a tomb—you were made to be a temple.

The Woman and the Stone

Picture the scene: a woman, dragged into the public square, caught in her sin. Around her stand the judges, stones in hand, eager to condemn. But Yeshua kneels. He writes in the dust. And with one sentence, He unmasks them all: “He who is without sin among you, let him be the first to throw a stone” (John 8:7, NASB). Silence falls. Stones drop. One by one, the accusers leave.

Then Yeshua lifts His eyes—not with wrath, but with mercy. “I do not condemn you, either. Go. From now on do not sin any longer” (John 8:11, NASB). This is grace before judgment. This is the heart of El Shaddai. He does not overlook sin—He overcomes it with mercy that transforms. It is the epitome of extending grace before judgment to bring about change.

What Hypocrisy Forgets

Hypocrisy forgets the mercy we’ve received. It points the finger without first cleansing the heart. It strives for the approval of men and forgets the gaze of God. But God sees through the mask, and His love calls us to tear it off. This love emphasizes the importance of grace before judgment. “You desire truth in the innermost being”(Psalm 51:6, NASB).

The hypocrite plays a part; the child of God comes broken, honest, and hopeful. You do not need to fake righteousness—you have been clothed in the righteousness of Yeshua. You are free to walk in truth, because the cross has removed your shame. Remember, always extend grace before judgment, just as it has been extended to you.

How to Overcome Hypocrisy

  1. Confess the mask. Ask God to expose every hidden area and invite Him into your reality.
  2. Repent sincerely. Don’t justify. Don’t delay. Return to the mercy seat with honesty.
  3. Align your private and public life. Let what you do in secret match what you proclaim.
  4. Offer grace before judgment. Speak with mercy. Restore gently. Forgive quickly.
  5. Stay near to the Light. Walk daily with Yeshua. His presence kills pretense.

Let your heart be cleansed. Let your lips be pure. Let your walk be consistent. You were not called to perform—you were called to reflect the glory of God. Always prioritize grace before judgment in your actions and interactions.

Prayer

Father, I confess my tendency to pretend. I’ve feared man more than I’ve feared You. I’ve worn masks You never gave me. I repent. Wash me in the blood of Yeshua and strip away every layer of falsehood. Teach me to walk in truth, to speak with sincerity, and to love without judgment. Make me a vessel of grace. Let my life reflect Your mercy, and may I never trade intimacy with You for the approval of man. In Yeshua’s name, amen.

See Also

Faithful and Fruitful

Trading Laziness for Diligence

Article 10 in the 12-part series on Overcoming Sin

The vineyard of the sluggard is overgrown. Weeds choke what once had potential, and the walls that protected it are broken down. Not from catastrophe—but from neglect. Laziness doesn’t always look like rebellion. Sometimes it just looks like delay. But make no mistake—when we resist God’s call to diligence, we sin against His design. You were not created to drift. You were made to be faithful and fruitful in His service.

“Whatever you do, do your work heartily, as for the Lord and not for people, knowing that it is from the Lord that you will receive the reward of the inheritance. It is the Lord Christ whom you serve” (Colossians 3:23–24, NASB). You are not laboring for earthly bosses or temporary gain. You are laboring before the King of Glory. Every task is holy. Every assignment is a seed planted to be faithful and fruitful.

The Deception of Comfort

Laziness is rarely loud. It often disguises itself in comfort, procrastination, or the subtle lie that there’s always more time. But time is not ours to waste. Every hour is a gift. Every season has purpose. And when we bury our talents in the ground—out of fear, passivity, or selfishness—we dishonor the One who entrusted them. To be faithful and fruitful, we must overcome these deceptions.

Greed says, “Take more.” Lust says, “Feel more.” But laziness says, “Do less.” It robs the Kingdom of the fruit you were meant to bear. It silences your calling, shrinks your vision, and convinces you that good intentions are good enough.

But Yeshua’s parable in Matthew 25 cuts through the illusion. The servant who hid his talent wasn’t praised for being safe—he was condemned for being slothful. Faithfulness is not just about what you believe—it’s what you build. Therefore, we must endeavor to be faithful and fruitful in all we do.

The Garden and the Axe

Picture a lush garden, perfectly designed, filled with potential. Seeds have been sown. Rain has fallen. The sun has shone. But no one has pulled the weeds. No one has pruned the vines. The gardener grows weary and leaves it untouched. Day after day, the fruit withers before it ripens.

Beside that garden stands an axe—resting at the root of a tree. “Every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire” (Matthew 3:10, NASB). That sounds harsh—until you remember the love of the Gardener. He planted you with purpose. He waters you with grace. He prunes you for fruitfulness. But He will not force you to grow. To be faithful and fruitful, we must cooperate with His process.

Laziness wastes what God intends to flourish. But diligence cultivates what God delights to bless.

The Spirit of Diligence

This is not about striving in the flesh. True diligence flows from the Spirit. It does not burn out—it burns bright. It is not anxious—it is intentional. “The soul of the lazy one craves and gets nothing, but the soul of the diligent is made prosperous” (Proverbs 13:4, NASB).

You don’t overcome laziness by willpower. You overcome it by worship. You start by surrendering your time, your goals, and your energy to the Lord of the Harvest. And as you walk with Him, He gives you grace to rise, strength to endure, and joy in the work.

Diligence isn’t about perfection—it’s about faithfulness. Keep showing up. Keep sowing. Keep building. And in due season, you will bear fruit that lasts. Thus, you will live a life that is faithful and fruitful.

How to Trade Laziness for Diligence

  1. Repent of passivity. Name where you’ve settled for comfort over calling. Bring it into the light.
  2. Ask for renewed vision. When your why is clear, your effort follows.
  3. Start small. Don’t wait for motivation—build momentum with one obedient step.
  4. Create rhythm, not pressure. Seek God daily, work faithfully, and rest when He says rest.
  5. Surround yourself with workers. Iron sharpens iron. Walk with the diligent, and you’ll grow strong.

Prayer

Lord, forgive me for every time I’ve chosen ease over obedience. I repent for wasting what You’ve entrusted to me. Today, I trade laziness for diligence—not by my strength, but by Your Spirit. Give me joy in the work, vision for the task, and grace to endure. Make me faithful and fruitful in every season, and let my life glorify You. In Yeshua’s name, amen.

See Also

Generous by Design

Conquering the Grip of Greed

Article 9 in the 12-part series on Overcoming Sin

You were not made to hoard. You were created in the image of a generous God, whose hands are always open, whose gifts overflow, whose nature is to give—not sparingly, but lavishly. To walk in His likeness is to walk free from the grip of greed. You were made to be generous by design.

Greed disguises itself as security, ambition, and stewardship—but its fruit is fear, control, and isolation. It whispers that you never have enough, that God won’t provide, that giving is loss. But the truth is, generosity is not subtraction—it is multiplication in the Kingdom. You cannot outgive El Shaddai.

“Then He said to them, ‘Watch out and be on your guard against every form of greed; for not even when one is affluent does his life consist of his possessions’” (Luke 12:15, NASB). Greed is not just a wealthy man’s temptation. It dwells in every heart that clings tightly and trusts sparingly.

You weren’t made to hoard, you were made to pout out.

The Heart That Grips

Greed is a clenched fist. It tells you that your provision comes from your own effort. It hoards because it fears tomorrow. But Yeshua told us plainly—“Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth… but store up for yourselves treasures in heaven” (Matthew 6:19–20, NASB). The problem is not in having—it’s in holding too tightly.

A greedy heart is never satisfied. The more it gets, the more it needs. It cannot rest because it is never full. But when you know the heart of the Father, you begin to live with open hands. You give because you trust Him to refill. You bless because He has first blessed you. You lose nothing in generosity—you reflect Heaven.

The Warehouse and the Well

Picture this: a man builds a massive warehouse to store all his crops. He insulates it, protects it, and stands back proud. “Now I can rest,” he says. That night, he dies. And the warehouse—full but lifeless—sits cold and silent. Beside it, another man walks to the village well. He draws water daily and freely shares it. The well never runs dry. His hands are empty, but his heart is full.

Which one lived well?

Greed builds barns and dies alone. Generosity draws water and shares life. You were never meant to be a warehouse. You were made to be a well.

God’s Grace Poured Out

Everything you have—your breath, your gifts, your resources—is from God. You are not an owner. You are a steward. And when you release what is in your hand, He releases what is in His. “Now I say this: the one who sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and the one who sows generously will also reap generously” (2 Corinthians 9:6, NASB).

Greed says, “I’ll give when I have more.” Grace says, “I give because I’ve received.”Generosity flows from gratitude, not surplus. It begins in the heart before it touches the wallet.

Whether it’s money, time, talents, or encouragement—give. Not reluctantly, not for praise, but because you trust the Giver.

How to Break Free from Greed

  1. Confess the lie. Greed begins with believing God won’t take care of you. Bring it into the light.
  2. Practice open-handed living. Give intentionally—even when it’s uncomfortable.
  3. Celebrate others’ blessings. Rejoice instead of comparing.
  4. Ask God to make you a channel. Pray: “Let it flow through me, not just to me.”
  5. Store up treasure in heaven. Give where moth and rust can’t reach.

Greed breaks when you remember who your Provider is.

You were made to give, not grasp. To pour out, not store up. You are generous by design.

Saving Isn’t Hoarding—But the Heart Still Matters

Let’s be clear: wisdom plans ahead. Scripture never condemns wise stewardship. The ant stores food in summer (Proverbs 6:6–8). Joseph stored grain in Egypt to prepare for famine (Genesis 41). And in our day—when pensions vanish, systems shake, and even family support can’t be assumed—preparing for retirement is not a lack of faith. It’s often an act of faithfulness.

But here is where the grip of greed tries to twist the truth: when saving becomes your savior, when the size of your account determines your peace, when giving feels unsafe because your plans must come first—that’s when stewardship has crossed into slavery.

God is not against saving. He is against fear disguised as wisdom.

You are called to plan, but not panic. To prepare, but not obsess. You can store without hoarding when your trust is not in the stock market, the 401(k), or the balance sheet—but in the unshakable hands of El Shaddai.

So yes, save wisely. Plan for tomorrow. But live with open hands today. Because the God who provides for your future is also watching how you steward the present.

Prayer:

Father, You have given me more than I deserve. Forgive me for the times I’ve clung to blessings instead of trusting You to provide. I renounce greed in all its forms—fear, pride, selfishness—and I receive the heart of Yeshua, who gave all. Make me a well, not a warehouse. Teach me to live open-handed and joyfully generous. Use me to reflect Your heart to a world in need. In the name of Yeshua, amen.

See Also

Freedom in Forgiveness

Letting Go of Bitterness

Article 8 in the 12-part series on Overcoming Sin

Bitterness is a silent captor. It hides deep, waiting for offense to fester and justice to delay. It promises to protect you from further hurt—but instead it chains your soul to pain. Bitterness is not just a feeling—it is a sin that hardens the heart and robs you of intimacy with God. Freedom in forgiveness is the only way out.

“Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be removed from you, along with all malice. Be kind to one another, compassionate, forgiving each other, just as God in Christ also has forgiven you” (Ephesians 4:31–32, NASB). That’s not a gentle suggestion—it’s a divine command. And not just for the offender’s sake—for yours.

The Poison We Choose

When someone wounds us deeply, our flesh cries out for justice. We replay the words. We relive the betrayal. We rearm our hearts with silent vows: “I’ll never trust again.” But every time you drink from the cup of bitterness, hoping it will punish them—it poisons you instead.

Bitterness twists your prayers. It colors your conversations. It silences your worship. But most tragically, it distances you from God, who is mercy. For how can you draw near to the One who forgives all, while refusing to forgive even one?

A Lesson from the Tree

Picture this: a barren tree stands in winter, branches stiff with ice, roots tangled and hard. Beside it, a sapling stretches upward—new, alive, free. Both have faced the cold, but only one has let go of the season behind it. The other clings to a bitterness buried so deep, not even spring can touch it.

Bitterness is like that frozen root—it resists warmth, even when light breaks through. But forgiveness is the melting sun. It does not ignore the wound. It does not pretend the cold never came. It simply refuses to live there anymore.

Forgiveness is Not Forgetting

Understand this, beloved: forgiveness does not erase the pain. It does not deny the offense or excuse evil. Yeshua never excused sin—He bore it. And on the cross, bloodied and betrayed, He prayed, “Father, forgive them” (Luke 23:34, NASB). He didn’t wait for an apology. He didn’t demand an explanation. He released them, so that we might know how to be free.

Forgiveness is not forgetting. It is entrusting. Entrusting your pain to a God who sees all, knows all, and judges justly. It’s laying down your right to repay and choosing instead to reflect the heart of El Shaddai—merciful, slow to anger, abounding in steadfast love.

How to Let Go of Bitterness

  1. Bring the offense into the light. Don’t suppress it. Name the hurt. Confess the bitterness.
  2. Remember how much you’ve been forgiven. Your forgiveness is not earned; it was bought.
  3. Speak forgiveness aloud. Say their name. Say the words. Even if your feelings don’t yet follow.
  4. Pray for the one who hurt you. Nothing softens the heart faster than intercession.
  5. Leave it in God’s hands. Justice belongs to Him. Trust Him to deal rightly.

Freedom begins when you release them—but it continues when you entrust your future to God’s hands, not your own wounds.

Your Heart Was Meant to Be Free

Bitterness is a prison disguised as armor. But Yeshua has the key. “So if the Son sets you free, you really will be free” (John 8:36, NASB). The enemy would love for you to cling to your offense and wither under the weight of what they did. But you were not called to live bitter—you were called to live free.

Release the grudge. Release the debt. Tear up the list. There is no freedom in rehearsing the pain—but there is glory in becoming like Christ.

Forgive. Not because they deserve it. But because He forgave you.

The Unpaid Debt That Chained Me

Imagine a man walking through life with a heavy chain wrapped around his shoulders. Each link is engraved with a name, a wound, a memory: “She betrayed me.” “He never apologized.” “They should’ve protected me.” He drags it everywhere—into his prayer closet, into conversations, into sleepless nights. The chain clinks with every step. At first, it felt like justice. Over time, it just felt like weight.

Then one night, in a dream, he sees Yeshua. The Savior holds out His hands—scarred, pierced—and says, “That chain doesn’t belong to you. I already paid for that.” But the man hesitates. “They owe me,” he whispers. Yeshua’s eyes don’t flinch. “Yes,” He says gently, “but so did you. And I forgave you everything.”

Tears fall. The man unlatches the chain and lays it at the foot of the cross. For the first time in years, he stands straight. Lighter. Free.

This is the power of forgiveness—not that the debt disappears, but that it’s placed into the hands of the only One worthy to carry it.

You can carry the weight, or you can walk in freedom. But you cannot do both.

Prayer

Father, I bring You every wound, every offense, every silent grudge I’ve held too long. I confess the bitterness that has grown in me. I lay it at Your feet. By Your grace, I choose to forgive—not by my strength, but by the power of Yeshua’s blood. Help me release them fully and trust You with the justice I cannot bring. Cleanse my heart, melt what’s frozen, and teach me to walk in mercy. Let me live free. In the name of Yeshua, amen.

See Also

Come Back to the Cross

“How long will you waver between two opinions? If the Lord is God, follow Him!” (1 Kings 18:21, NASB, emphasis added)

This is the cry of the prophet Elijah—but it is also the cry of God’s heart to you today. Come back to the Cross. Not to a symbol of religion, but to the place of decision. Come back to the Savior who died—not to be represented in stone—but to reign in your heart.

You cannot serve two masters. You cannot cling to tradition and truth, to saints and to the Son. If Jesus is Lord, follow Him. But do not delay. Do not live your life bowing before one altar on Sunday and another in private. Come out of the confusion. Choose today whom you will serve.

The early disciples made their choice. They forsook the temple and followed the Lamb. They left behind the old covenant, the blood of bulls and goats, and embraced the once-for-all sacrifice of Jesus Christ. “We have been sanctified through the offering of the body of Jesus Christ once for all time” (Hebrews 10:10, NASB). So, why not heed the call now and come back to the Cross?

Do not look back to what He fulfilled. Look to Him. He is not on the crucifix. He is risen. The veil is torn. Access is granted. Why then do you run to mediators God did not send? Why light candles for saints who cannot save, when Jesus stands ready to receive you?

He alone is your High Priest. He alone is your Shepherd. He alone is worthy. “There is salvation in no one else; for there is no other name under heaven that has been given among mankind by which we must be saved” (Acts 4:12, NASB).

Come back to the Cross—where no incense burns, but where holy fire fell. Come back to the place where mercy triumphed over judgment. Come back to the blood that cleanses, the grace that frees, the love that pursues you still.

You’ve known religion. But now God calls you to know Him.

Not through Mary. Not through saints. Not through ritual. Through the Son.

“For there is one God, and one Mediator also between God and mankind, the man Christ Jesus” (1 Timothy 2:5, NASB). That is the gospel. That is your invitation. That is your line in the sand.

Come back to the Cross. Forsake the idols. Tear down every image that steals your worship.

This is the voice of Jesus: “If anyone wants to come after Me, he must deny himself, take up his cross daily, and follow Me” (Luke 9:23, NASB). No substitutes. No middlemen. No lifeless images.

Only Christ.

So choose. Choose before the fire falls. Choose before the trumpet sounds. Choose before your time runs out.

Come back to the Cross. Come back to the living God. Come back while the door is still open.

Prayer

Lord Jesus, I hear You calling. I will not waver any longer. I cast down every idol, every tradition that has replaced You in my life. I repent of divided loyalty. I believe You alone are the way, the truth, and the life. Cleanse me by Your blood. Fill me with Your Spirit. I come back to the Cross. And I choose You—now and forever. Amen.

See Also

Worship Above All

Escaping Idolatry’s Grip

Article 7 in the 12-part series on Overcoming Sin

You were made to worship. Not as a duty, but as a delight. From the moment you were formed in your mother’s womb, your soul was wired to gaze, to adore, to exalt. The question has never been if you will worship—but who or what. The heart is an altar, and something always burns upon it.

In this generation, idolatry no longer wears the mask of carved statues and golden calves. It hides behind ambition, screens, relationships, and even religious routine. But the danger is no less real. Idolatry is any affection, pursuit, or priority that competes with your worship of God. It is a thief that dresses like fulfillment but drains your spirit. It whispers, “You need this to be whole,” but it leaves you emptier than before.

“You shall have no other gods before Me,” the Lord commanded (Exodus 20:3, NASB). This is not a suggestion—it is a cry from the jealous heart of a holy God who loves you. Not because He needs your worship, but because He knows your life will be fractured until He is your first love again.

The Hidden Golden Calves

In the days of Moses, Israel traded the glory of El Shaddai for a golden calf they could see, touch, and control. They wanted a god on their terms. And so do we. But anything we worship that we can control is not a god—it’s an idol.

Today, your idol might not be made of gold, but it may be just as polished: a career that defines you, a relationship you refuse to surrender, a reputation you protect more than your prayer life. Some even idolize their own emotions—worshiping comfort above obedience. But the truth stands firm: you become like what you worship. If your heart bows to success, you’ll be driven and restless. If you worship God, you will become like Him—pure, steadfast, and free.

The Altar of the Heart

Let me offer you an image—a simple one, but sacred. Picture a man in an old farmhouse. The wind howls outside as night settles in. He enters a dusty barn where a wood stove sits cold and silent. The man kneels and begins to build a fire: dry kindling first, then logs. Slowly, with patience, he stirs the embers. A small flame catches. He leans close, feeding it with breath, shielding it from the wind until the fire glows strong and steady.

That stove is your heart. The fire is your worship. The world is cold, and your soul cannot survive unless it is kindled with the presence of God. You must return to that altar daily. You must clear out the ashes of yesterday’s distractions and false loves. You must feed the fire with the truth of Scripture, the song of the redeemed, the cry of surrender.

Only One Can Reign

Yeshua did not die so you could have Him plus your idols. He died to set you free from the tyranny of false gods. He called us to love the Lord with all our heart, all our soul, all our mind, and all our strength (Mark 12:30, NASB). There is no room on the throne of your heart for two kings.

And yet, how gentle He is with us. He does not tear down our idols to shame us—He removes them to restore us. He turns over the tables not to humiliate, but to cleanse His temple. You are that temple. He is reclaiming His altar.

How to Escape Idolatry’s Grip

To walk in freedom, begin here:

  1. Identify the idol. What consumes your time, thoughts, or affections more than God?
  2. Tear it down. Confess it. Renounce it. Ask the Holy Spirit to break its power.
  3. Return to true worship. Carve out space to adore God, not for what He gives, but for who He is.
  4. Guard the altar. Keep distractions out. Feed the fire daily.

Your freedom begins when your worship returns.

Prayer

El Shaddai, I repent for every idol I’ve allowed into Your sanctuary. Forgive me for loving created things more than the Creator. Tear down every false god in my heart and take Your rightful place again. Stir up in me a fresh fire of worship. Let me seek You above all, long for You above all, and treasure You above all. Cleanse my heart, set it apart, and make it an altar where only You reign. In the holy name of Yeshua, amen.

See Also

People of the Fire

Beloved, do you not know that God still walks in the fire?

There is a holy summons today—a call echoing from the pages of Daniel to the depths of your spirit. You are not called to a lukewarm life or a faith of comfort. You were made to be among the People of the Fire. These are the ones who stand when the world demands they bow. These are the ones who refuse the golden idols of culture and comfort and, in doing so, awaken the very presence of El Shaddai in their midst.

Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego

Recall the moment in Babylon—when Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego stood before Nebuchadnezzar, refusing to worship the statue he set up. They declared without hesitation, “Our God whom we serve is able to rescue us from the furnace of blazing fire… but even if He does not… we are not going to serve your gods” (Daniel 3:17-18, NASB). This was not bravado. It was breathless adoration—the kind of worship that has counted the cost and chosen God above life itself.

They were bound and thrown into the fire. But the fire meant to destroy them became where Yeshua walked among them. The king himself saw and cried out, “Look! I see four men untied and walking about in the middle of the fire unharmed, and the appearance of the fourth is like a son of the gods!” (Daniel 3:25, NASB).

This is what it means to be People of the Fire—to live a life where God’s presence is not theoretical but tangible in the crucible.

Restore Breathless Adoration

Have you settled into a rhythm of religion but lost the breathless wonder of being near to God? Have you traded the fire for the flicker of convenience?

There is more. There is always more of Him. The Lord is not found in safe places. He meets us in surrender, in sacrifice, and yes—in the flames.

The Burning Bush

Moses saw the bush ablaze, yet not consumed, and turned aside to look. That holy turning became the beginning of divine commission (Exodus 3:2-4). Elijah called down fire to reveal that God alone is Lord (1 Kings 18:36-39). Isaiah beheld the burning ones—the seraphim—crying out, “Holy, Holy, Holy is the Lord of armies, the whole earth is full of His glory” (Isaiah 6:3, NASB). He too was touched by fire and sent forth.

Even now, Yeshua speaks: “I have come to cast fire upon the earth; and how I wish it were already kindled!” (Luke 12:49, NASB). He longs for your heart to burn with holy affection again.

Called to Walk in the Fire

Being People of the Fire means you must embrace the furnace. Not because you love pain—but because you love the One who stands in it with you. It is in the fire that chains are loosed. It is in the fire that spectators see the Son. It is in the fire that intimacy with God is made visible.

The early Church burned with this fire. Their love was so consuming that they rejoiced when counted worthy to suffer for His name (Acts 5:41). They turned the world upside down not by power, but by passion—a holy obsession with the living Christ.

You, beloved, are called to this same burning. You are not called to blend in but to blaze. You are a torch in a darkened age, and the oil of your lamp must not run dry. Stir the embers. Feed the flame. Seek His face until your heart is undone.

Breathe Again, Burn Again

The Church needs fire again—not noise, programs, or performances. Fire. Heaven’s fire. The kind that fell at Pentecost filled the Upper Room with tongues of flame (Acts 2:1-4). The type that set men and women ablaze to preach the gospel without fear, fueled by breathless adoration for Yeshua.

Let this be your cry: More of You, Lord. Less of me. Set me on fire again.

Return to the place of wonder. Return to the altar. Lay your life down—not in part, but whole—and let the fire of God consume you in holy love.

Prayer

Abba, we have grown too comfortable. We have built walls where You sought altars. Forgive us. We no longer want a safe religion—we want the fire. We want the flame that purifies, the presence that walks with us in the furnace. Lord Yeshua, walk with us again. Ignite every cold corner of our hearts. Restore breathless adoration in Your Bride. Make us a people who burn for You and You alone. We are Yours, El Shaddai. Kindle the fire. Amen.

Let the world see it. Let Babylon tremble again. You are People of the Fire.

See Also

Walking in Truth

Breaking Free from Deceit

Article 6 in the 12-part series on Overcoming Sin

Beloved, you were not created to live in shadows. You were fashioned in the image of the God of truth, whose light exposes every lie and heals every hidden wound. In a world saturated with deception, half-truths, and polished facades, the call of Yeshua is clear: Walk in the light as He Himself is in the light (1 John 1:7, NASB). There is no middle ground. You cannot serve both truth and falsehood. You must break free.

To walk in truth is not merely to speak honestly—it is to live honestly before God, before others, and even before your own soul. Lies are not only told—they are worn, rehearsed, and hidden behind masks. But Yeshua does not deal in appearances. He pierces the surface. He calls you into the light.

The Seduction of the Lie

Deceit is a thief dressed as a friend. It promises to protect, but always enslaves. Whether it’s a secret sin, a fake smile, or a false version of yourself presented to the world, deception separates you from intimacy—with others, and more tragically, with God. “No lie is of the truth” (1 John 2:21, NASB). Even the smallest compromise unravels your witness and weakens your soul.

Satan’s first weapon in the garden was not violence, but a lie. The enemy always questions what God has said, then offers an easier version. But every lie, even when subtle, is war against the truth of God’s Word. God never lies. His promises are sure. His Word is forever settled. And if you are to walk with Him, your life must mirror His truth.

The Cost of Deception

Do not be deceived: all deception costs you something. Lies may gain you favor for a moment, but they steal your peace. They may save you from judgment temporarily, but they keep you far from the mercy seat. “Lying lips are an abomination to the Lord, but those who deal faithfully are His delight” (Proverbs 12:22, NASB).

Deceit builds walls, but truth tears them down. It costs you vulnerability, yes—but it buys you freedom. And where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty.

Truth as a Person

To break free from deceit, you must know that truth is not merely an idea—it is a Person. “I am the Way, and the Truth, and the Life,” Yeshua declared (John 14:6, NASB). You do not overcome lying by trying harder to be honest. You overcome when you walk closely with the One who is Truth.

The closer you walk with Him, the more lies lose their grip. He reveals the truth about yourself—not to shame you, but to sanctify you. He exposes the hidden, not to condemn, but to heal. “Behold, You desire truth in the innermost being, and in secret You will make wisdom known to me” (Psalm 51:6, NASB).

Consider King David. When he tried to cover his sin, he groaned under the weight of God’s hand (Psalm 32:3–4). But when the prophet Nathan confronted him—not with accusation, but with truth—David didn’t hide. He confessed. And God forgave. The truth broke him, but it also rebuilt him. Truth always restores what lies destroy.

Practical Steps to Walk in Truth

Walking in truth is not just an ideal—it is a daily decision. Here are a few steps that can anchor your walk:

  1. Confess Quickly: Don’t let small lies fester. Be quick to admit wrong, even when it stings.
  2. Invite Accountability: Give trusted, godly people permission to speak into your life and point out blind spots.
  3. Live Transparently: Let your public life and private life match. Let there be no version of you that hides from God.
  4. Guard Your Tongue: Speak truth with grace. Don’t exaggerate, flatter, or manipulate with your words.
  5. Soak in the Word: God’s Word is truth (John 17:17). The more it fills you, the more falsehood is exposed.

These are not burdens—they are pathways to freedom.

Freedom in the Light

Let your steps be firm and your heart open. Walking in truth means living without disguise. It means repenting quickly and letting go of the fear of exposure. Yes, the light may sting at first—but it will also cleanse, restore, and revive.

There is no shame in the truth. There is only freedom. “You will know the truth, and the truth will set you free” (John 8:32, NASB). Let those words ring louder than the lies you’ve believed.

Your life must preach what your lips proclaim. You are not called to manipulate or perform. You are called to reflect the purity and power of God’s truth. Speak it. Live it. Love it. Let truth be your compass, your banner, and your battle cry.

God is truth. You are His. Walk like it.

Prayer:

Lord of Truth, I lay down every mask, every pretense, and every hidden compromise. Shine Your light in the deepest places of my heart. Expose the lies I’ve believed and the ones I’ve told. Forgive me, cleanse me, and lead me in Your truth. Yeshua, be my Way, my Truth, and my Life. Help me walk honestly before You and others, not fearing exposure but trusting Your mercy. Let my life reflect Your integrity, and may my steps always stay in the light. In Your holy name, amen.

See Also

Rebuilding with Burnt Stones

God Is Not Done With You Yet

Beloved, God sees you.

You may feel burned by ministry, exhausted by battle, overlooked in the kingdom. The enemy whispers, “You’re used up, finished.” But that voice is not the voice of your Shepherd. Lift up your head. God is rebuilding—and He is rebuilding with burnt stones.

Nehemiah’s story is your story. The Holy One stirred his heart to weep, to fast, and to rebuild the broken walls of Jerusalem. The city lay in ruins—its gates scorched by fire, its walls reduced to rubble. The enemy mocked the very idea of restoration, saying, “Can they revive the stones from the heaps of rubble—even the burned ones?” (Nehemiah 4:2, NASB). The rebuilding with burnt stones shows God’s power.

But God delights in doing the impossible.

He restores what fire has touched.

He chooses what man casts aside.

You Are a Stone in His Holy Wall

Child of God, the wall was rebuilt not by masons alone but by priests, perfumers, and ordinary people. They each repaired what lay in front of their homes. Rebuilding with burnt stones was not just the work of professionals, but of committed hearts. It was not perfect work, but it was faithful work. And it pleased the Lord.

God is not looking for polish; He is looking for surrender. You may feel burned out, but you are not burned up. He is the God who speaks to dry bones and burned stones alike. When you surrender what’s left in your hands, He restores what you thought was lost forever.

The Fire Was Real—But It Was Not Final

The burned stones in Nehemiah’s day had been scorched in judgment, fire, and siege. Yet they were not discarded. They were chosen. So it is with you. The trials you have faced do not disqualify you; they prepare you. They are the proof that your life has been in the heat of the battle.

The enemy mocked, but the wall rose. God silenced every accuser—not by brand-new stones, but by burnt ones reclaimed for His glory. The process of rebuilding with burnt stones is a testament to God’s redemptive power.

Hear this, beloved:

Your scars are not signs of failure—they are signs of survival.

God is rebuilding with burnt stones, and that includes you.

A Tool in One Hand, a Sword in the Other

As the wall went up, so did the opposition. But the people of God did not stop. With one hand they built; with the other they held a sword (Nehemiah 4:17). This is your portion too. You will rebuild and war. You will work and worship. You will rise and resist.

Do not wait for peace to begin again. Begin in the battle. Let every brick you lay in faith be a declaration: “God is not done with me. I still belong in His wall.” Let every action of rebuilding with burnt stones remind you of His mighty strength.

From Rubble to Revival

When the wall was finished in just 52 days, the people did not boast in themselves. They turned their faces to heaven. Ezra read the Law. The people wept. And revival came. Restoration always ends in worship. God does not rebuild for our comfort, but for His glory.

You, beloved, are not being restored for your own name. You are being restored for His holy purpose, His praise, and His house. This is a powerful aspect of rebuilding with burnt stones—it glorifies God, not ourselves.

You Are Not Discarded—You Are Chosen

Listen closely:

  • You are not too far gone.
  • You are not too damaged.
  • You are not forgotten.
  • You are still a stone in God’s hand.

And if He chooses to rebuild His wall with you, no man and no devil can tear you down.

Prayer for the Burned Stones

Abba Father, rebuilder of ancient ruins, we come as burnt stones—tired, tested, but willing. Restore our place in Your holy wall. Heal what fire has scorched. Strengthen our hands to build again. Let us hold fast to Your Word, even as we war against every lie of the enemy. Revive our passion. Restore our calling. Reignite our first love. And let our lives shine as proof that You are not done with us yet. In the mighty name of Yeshua, we pray. Amen.

Rebuilding with burnt stones is more than restoration—it’s resurrection. And that, beloved, is the work of the Living God.

See Also