Tag Archives: Resurrection

Faith

Where Is Your Faith?

“And my God will liberally supply (fill until full) your every need according to His riches in glory in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 4:19, AMP).

Beloved, consider this: Do you trust God with every detail of your life? He, who spoke the universe into existence and holds all things together by the power of His Word, has promised to meet your every need. Yet, how often do we doubt His faithfulness? When trials arise, when answers seem delayed, or when life feels uncertain, where is your faith? Jesus asked His disciples the same question in the midst of the storm: “Where is your faith [your confidence in Me]?” (Luke 8:25, AMP).

The God who provided manna in the wilderness, healed the sick, and raised the dead is unchanging. To Him, there is no difference between resurrection, healing, or providing food for today. Each act flows from His infinite power and is accomplished according to His perfect will. The determining question is always: “Is it in the will of God, and how will it bring glory to Him?”

Trusting God’s Provision

Faith rests not in what we see but in who God is. Jesus taught, “Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you” (Matthew 7:7, AMP). Yet He also instructed us to pray, “Your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven” (Matthew 6:10, AMP). This is the foundation of faith—trusting God’s will above our own, knowing that His ways are higher than ours (Isaiah 55:8-9).

The Apostle Paul exemplified this trust when he wrote: “I have learned to be content [and self-sufficient through Christ, satisfied to the point where I am not disturbed or uneasy] regardless of my circumstances” (Philippians 4:11, AMP). Whether in abundance or lack, Paul relied on Christ’s strength, not his situation. This kind of faith declares, “I can do all things [which He has called me to do] through Him who strengthens and empowers me” (Philippians 4:13, AMP).

Whether it is resurrection, healing, or daily provision, each miracle reveals God’s sovereignty and invites us to trust Him. What matters is not the size of the miracle but whether it aligns with God’s purposes and brings glory to Him. As Jesus said of Lazarus’ sickness, “It is for the glory and honor of God, so that the Son of God may be glorified by it” (John 11:4, AMP).

A Testimony of Trust

A friend once shared how she prayed for peace and provision during a difficult season. She expected immediate answers, but God’s response came differently than she imagined. Instead of an instant solution, He provided strength through His Word, encouragement through prayer, and joy in unexpected places. Her story reminded me that God’s provision often extends beyond meeting physical needs—it touches our hearts, strengthens our faith, and draws us closer to Him.

This aligns with Jesus’ teaching in Matthew 6:25-33 (AMP):

“Do not worry, saying, ‘What are we going to eat?’ or ‘What are we going to drink?’ or ‘What are we going to wear?’… But first and most importantly seek (aim at, strive after) His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be given to you also.”

God’s provision is not limited to physical sustenance; it encompasses peace in chaos, joy in sorrow, and strength in weakness. His answers may not always match our expectations, but they are always for our good and His glory.

Faith That Trusts, Not Presumes

True faith does not demand specific outcomes but surrenders to the perfect will of God. Job declared in his suffering, “Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him” (Job 13:15, AMP). This is the kind of faith that clings to God for who He is, not simply for what He gives.

God’s power remains the same in every work—whether raising the dead, healing the sick, or providing daily bread. To us, these acts may seem unequal, but to God, they are all part of His sovereign plan. The question we must ask ourselves is not “Can God do this?” but, “Is it His will, and how will it glorify Him?”

Where Is Your Faith?

Beloved, where is your faith? Do you trust God only when His blessings are visible, or do you trust Him in the silence, the waiting, and the unanswered prayers? God’s ultimate purpose is not merely to meet our earthly needs but to conform us to the image of His Son (Romans 8:29). When trials come, trust that He is working all things for your good and His glory (Romans 8:28). Let your faith rise today, anchored in the unchanging truth of who He is.

He is Jehovah Jireh, the Lord who provides. Whether He meets a need through miraculous intervention or sustains us through patience and endurance, His faithfulness remains unshaken. Trust Him, for He never fails.

A Prayer for Faith and Salvation

O Lord, we come to You knowing that You are the God of all power and provision. Forgive us for the times we’ve doubted Your faithfulness or sought to measure Your love by our circumstances. Teach us to trust You in all things—in the moments of joy and the times of uncertainty.

Father, I pray for anyone reading this who does not yet know You. If they feel distant, draw them close by the power of Your Holy Spirit. Open their eyes to see the love You’ve poured out through Jesus Christ, who died and rose again for their salvation. For those who know You, Lord, deepen their faith. Help us to trust You not for what You give but for who You are.

Lord, we surrender our lives to You, trusting You as Savior, Provider, and King. Thank You for Your perfect will, Your unending love, and Your faithfulness to meet our every need. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Closing Exhortation

Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding (Proverbs 3:5, AMP). Seek Him daily, press into His presence, and let your faith grow deeper as you walk with Him. If you don’t yet know Jesus, call upon His name today. He is ready to forgive, save, and transform your life. For those who already know Him, take heart—He is faithful. Where is your faith? Let it rest fully in Him who never fails.

See Also

Faith

The Road to Revelation

The road to Emmaus stretched before you, dappled with golden sunlight filtering through the olive trees. The gravel beneath your sandals crunched softly with each step, the uneven stones occasionally pressing into your soles. The spring air was alive with the hum of crickets and the occasional trill of a bird hidden among the branches. Yet the warmth of the sun and the beauty of the countryside could not lift the weight pressing on your heart. It felt like burning hearts on the road to revelation.

The conversation between you and your companion was hushed, heavy. The recent events in Jerusalem had shattered your hopes, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth—like the dust that clung to your lips. Jesus, the one you had believed to be the Messiah, was dead. Crucified. You couldn’t reconcile it. The words of the prophets, the miracles He performed, the authority in His voice—all seemed to have led to a dead end.

A gentle breeze stirred the air, carrying with it the faint scent of wildflowers blooming by the roadside. You breathed it in, but even its sweetness couldn’t lift the knot in your chest. As you walked, deep in thought, the sound of footsteps joined yours—a stranger, his presence calm yet commanding. His voice broke the silence, smooth yet firm: “What are these things you are discussing so intently as you walk?”

You glanced at your companion, both of you startled by the interruption. The stranger’s question seemed almost absurd. How could anyone not know what had happened in Jerusalem? You explained, your voice faltering as you recounted the betrayal, the trial, the crucifixion. You couldn’t help but choke on the words, the raw wound of disappointment still fresh. “We had hoped He was the one to redeem Israel,” you said, your throat tightening. “But it’s been three days…”

The stranger listened patiently, his steps falling in rhythm with yours. When he spoke, his voice resonated with authority, yet carried a warmth that drew you in. “Was it not necessary for the Messiah to suffer these things and then enter His glory?” His words pierced your heart, as if he were unraveling the knot of grief inside you.

As the sun climbed higher, he began to explain the Scriptures. His words carried you back to the beginning—Moses, the prophets—all pointing to the Messiah’s suffering and victory. The deeper he went, the more your heart burned, as if the embers of hope were being stoked back to life. The scents of wild thyme and crushed leaves from your steps seemed sharper now, the air fresher, the sounds of nature more alive. It was as if the world around you was awakening with the truth being spoken.

The day passed quickly, and before you knew it, you were nearing Emmaus. The sun dipped low, painting the horizon in fiery hues of orange and red. The stranger made as if to go further, but you couldn’t let him leave. “Stay with us,” you urged, your voice almost pleading. “The day is nearly over.”

Inside the small house, the fire crackled, its warmth pushing back the evening chill. The scent of fresh bread filled the room, mingling with the earthy aroma of olive oil. The stranger sat at the table with you, his movements deliberate, almost reverent. When he took the bread, blessed it, and broke it, the light from the fire flickered across his face—and then it hit you.

Your breath caught. Your eyes widened. It was Him. Jesus. The one who had walked with you, who had spoken with such power and truth, was alive and sitting at your table. Before you could speak, He was gone, leaving only the lingering scent of bread and the imprint of His presence on your soul.

You turned to your companion, your heart racing, your voice trembling with joy. “Did not our hearts burn within us as He talked with us on the road?” The realization was like a rushing wind, filling the room and sweeping away the grief that had weighed you down.

You couldn’t stay still. The journey back to Jerusalem felt like a dream. The cool night air brushed your face as your sandals slapped against the road, the stars above seeming brighter, the earth beneath your feet more solid. Every breath tasted of hope, every heartbeat pulsed with joy. You burst into the room where the others were gathered, your voice ringing out: “He is risen! We have seen Him!”

And then He appeared—Jesus, standing in the midst of you all. The warmth of His presence wrapped around you like a cloak. His voice, calm yet commanding, filled the room: “Peace to you.”

The room was still, but the air vibrated with the awe of His presence. Jesus, alive and radiant, stood before you and the others. His scars were visible, the marks of the nails on His hands and feet speaking louder than any words. Yet there was no pain in His face, only peace—an unshakable, eternal peace that seemed to flood the room and settle deep in your soul.

He spoke again, His voice rich and steady: “Why are you troubled, and why do doubts arise in your hearts? See My hands and My feet, that it is I Myself. Touch Me and see.” His invitation was simple, yet profound. Hesitant at first, you stepped forward. Your fingers brushed against the scars, and a wave of indescribable wonder filled you. The warmth of His hand was unmistakable, and it was real. He was real.

The room, once filled with sorrow and confusion, now overflowed with joy. The firelight flickered, casting long shadows on the walls, but none of it could compare to the light in His eyes—a light that seemed to pierce through the very fabric of time and space. He reached for a piece of broiled fish from the table and ate it, a simple act that brought you all to laughter and tears. How could it be? Death itself had been defeated, and He stood alive before you.

He spoke again, and this time His words burned like fire in your heart: “These are My words which I spoke to you while I was still with you, that everything written about Me in the Law of Moses, the Prophets, and the Psalms must be fulfilled.” As He explained, your mind seemed to expand, as if scales fell from your eyes. You saw, truly saw, how all of history pointed to Him—the suffering, the sacrifice, the glory.

And then He gave you the call that would change your life forever. “You are witnesses of these things,” He said, His gaze sweeping over each of you. “And behold, I am sending the promise of My Father upon you. Stay in the city until you are clothed with power from on high.” His words were both a command and a promise, a calling that ignited something deep within you. This was not the end of the story; it was the beginning.

In the days that followed, His appearances brought reassurance and power. The sound of His voice stayed with you, like the echo of the shofar ringing through the hills. The scent of blooming flowers, carried by the spring wind, reminded you of the empty tomb, the victory over death. The taste of that shared bread lingered as a reminder of His fellowship, His presence that would never leave you.

And then, one day, He led you to a hill outside the city. The sun shone brightly, warming your skin as you stood with the others, watching Him. He lifted His hands and blessed you. His words carried the weight of eternity, yet His smile was gentle, filled with love. “Go and make disciples of all nations,” He commanded, “baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.”

As He spoke, He began to rise, His figure growing smaller as He ascended into the sky. Your breath caught, the awe of the moment filling your chest. A brilliant light surrounded Him, and then He was gone, hidden by the clouds. The silence that followed was thick with holiness, broken only by the rustling of the wind.

Suddenly, two men in radiant white appeared beside you. Their voices were calm yet commanding: “Men of Galilee, why do you stand looking into heaven? This Jesus, who was taken up from you into heaven, will come in the same way as you saw Him go.”

The promise echoed in your heart as you made your way back to Jerusalem. Every step on the road felt lighter now, as if the weight of the world had been lifted from your shoulders. You couldn’t stop talking about Him—His words, His wounds, His victory. The air seemed fresher, the world brighter, as if creation itself had been redeemed along with you.

Back in the city, you waited, just as He had instructed. The days passed, filled with prayer and expectation. Then, on the morning of Pentecost, it happened. The room was filled with the sound of a rushing wind, so powerful it made your ears ring. Tongues of fire appeared, resting on each of you, and you were filled with the Holy Spirit. The power He had promised was now within you, burning with an intensity you had never known.

You burst into the streets, your voice lifted in bold proclamation. The words flowed from you as if they had been written on your heart: Jesus is alive! He is the Messiah! Repent and believe in Him! The crowds, drawn by the sound, stopped to listen. Their faces reflected the same awe and wonder you had felt on the road, in the upper room, and on the hill.

The story had begun, and it would never end.

And now, dear friend, this story invites you in. Jesus still walks the road with us, still opens our eyes, still calls us to be His witnesses. Will you answer His call? Will you invite Him into your life, letting His Spirit fill you with the same power that transformed those first believers? He is alive, and He is waiting for you.

Lord Jesus, we praise You, the risen King, the Savior who walks with us and reveals the truth to our hearts. Fill us with Your Spirit, that we may walk in boldness and joy, proclaiming Your love to the world. May we never forget that You are with us always, to the end of the age. Amen.

See Also

Faith

Faith That Clings

Beloved, reflect on the faith of Jairus. He came to Jesus not just for healing but for life itself. His daughter lay at the point of death, and he knew that only the Lord could save her. He cast aside all pride and doubt, falling at Jesus’ feet and crying out for Him to come to his house. Yet, on the way, the news came that shattered any hope he might have held in the natural: “Your daughter has died. Why bother the Teacher any further?” (Mark 5:35, AMP).

How often have you felt the same? You’ve prayed, you’ve believed, but the situation has gone from bad to worse. What you hoped for seems lost. But listen to the words of Jesus to Jairus, words that still speak to you today: “Do not be afraid; only keep on believing” (Mark 5:36, AMP). Even when it seems like the promise has died, even when the delay feels endless, trust in the One who has power over death and life.

Jairus didn’t turn back. He didn’t let the news of death stop him. He clung to Jesus, walking with Him all the way to his house. His faith wasn’t just in what Jesus could do—it was in who Jesus is. This is the kind of faith you must have: a faith that clings to Jesus even when the situation seems hopeless, even when the world declares it is over.

When Jesus arrived at Jairus’ home, the mourners laughed at Him. To them, the situation was final. Death had already taken hold. But Jesus dismissed them, declaring, “The child is not dead but sleeping” (Mark 5:39, AMP). Beloved, what seems dead to you is only asleep in the hands of the Savior. When the Lord enters the house, life returns, healing flows, and restoration begins.

Even now, the Lord is coming to His house—His Church. He brings not just healing for what is broken but resurrection for what is lost. But will you walk with Him in faith? Will you trust Him even when the promise seems delayed, even when the situation appears beyond repair? The faith of Jairus calls you to cling to the Lord, to press into His presence, and to believe that His power is greater than any loss.

Pressing in Until Full Restoration

Jairus didn’t stop at the news of death, and neither should you. When the Lord enters His house, He comes to restore not partially but completely. Jairus’ daughter was not only healed; she was brought back to life. The Lord doesn’t just give back what was taken; He restores it abundantly. The thief must repay sevenfold (Proverbs 6:31), and the Lord promises to restore the years the locusts have eaten (Joel 2:25).

But restoration requires faith that presses in. Do not let go after the first sign of healing. Stay close to the Lord. Like Jairus, walk with Him all the way. Trust Him to bring life to every area where the enemy has brought death. Trust Him to restore joy, hope, and purpose. And trust Him to give abundantly more than you could ask or imagine (Ephesians 3:20).

A Call to Faith

Beloved, the Lord is coming to His house, and His presence will bring healing and restoration. But will you trust Him fully? Will you cling to Him when the promise seems delayed, when the report seems final, when hope feels lost? Do not be afraid; only keep on believing. The One who enters the house has power over every situation. He will restore everything the enemy has stolen—and more.

Let your faith rise, even in the face of death. Press into the Lord until His presence fills the house and His promises are fulfilled. Cling to Him, trust in Him, and believe that His restoration will be complete, overflowing, and abundant.

A Prayer for Faith and Restoration

Lord Jesus, we thank You for the faith of Jairus, who trusted You even when all seemed lost. Help us to cling to You in the same way, to walk with You through every delay and doubt, and to believe in Your power to restore. We invite You into Your house, Lord—into our lives, our church, and our circumstances. Bring healing where there is brokenness, life where there is death, and restoration where the enemy has stolen. We trust You for more, Lord, even to the overflow. In Your mighty name, we pray. Amen.

See Also

Visions

Return to the Cross

Beloved, in the stillness of the night, a vision was given to me, one that carried the weight of ages past and the urgency of this very moment. I was taken to a vast and desolate landscape, where the ground was scorched, and the remnants of broken altars lay scattered across the earth. The sky above was dark, a heavy shroud pressing down upon the land, as if mourning the faith that had once burned brightly but now flickered like a dying flame.

Before me stood the remnant—God’s people, the ones who have been called out, yet now find themselves weary and disillusioned. Their faces were marked with the sorrow of long journeys, their eyes dimmed by the fading light of hope. They wandered far from their first love, burdened by the weight of the world, entangled in the cares of this life. But then, beloved, the voice of the Lord came, urgent and clear, calling you back to your purpose.

In the midst of their wandering, a voice like the sound of many waters called out, reverberating through the heavens and the earth, a voice filled with both sorrow and steadfast love.

“Return to the cross!” the voice cried, and in that moment, the darkness above began to shift. A single beam of light pierced through the clouds, illuminating a distant hill where a solitary cross stood. The cross, old and rugged, bore the marks of sacrifice—the blood of the Lamb, shed once for all (Hebrews 10:10). The light of the cross shone like a beacon in the night, calling the remnant back to the place where their journey had begun.

Beloved, the time is now. This is the hour to which you have been called, for you were called for such a time as this (Esther 4:14). The days of slumber are over. It is time to awaken and engage in the work that God has set before you.

The voice called again, more insistent this time, resonating in the depths of their souls:

“Remember the price that was paid, the blood that was shed for your redemption!” The words hung in the air, and I saw the people pause, their hearts stirred by the memory of their Savior, the One who bore their sins in His body on the cross, that they might die to sin and live to righteousness (1 Peter 2:24). The One who said, “It is finished” (John 19:30), now calls them back to Himself. Awaken, O remnant, for the hour is at hand!

As the remnant began to turn their eyes toward the cross, the landscape around them started to change. The broken altars began to tremble, and from the ashes, new altars of worship began to rise. The scent of incense, pure and holy, filled the air as the people fell to their knees in repentance. The bitterness of sin and the sting of compromise were washed away as they knelt before the cross, their hearts broken open in worship and surrender.

“Return to Me with all your heart,” the voice continued, gentle yet filled with authority. “For you have been bought with a price; you are not your own” (1 Corinthians 6:19-20). “Come back to the place of your first love, to the One who called you out of darkness into His marvelous light” (1 Peter 2:9).

Beloved, the time is now. The days are short, and the night is far spent. You were called for such a time as this. Do not delay, for the Lord’s work is at hand, and His call to you is urgent. Awaken and engage in the mission He has given you.

The voice then anchored the vision in the words of Christ, words that had echoed through the ages and now resounded with renewed urgency:

“Come to Me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light” (Matthew 11:28-30).

And as these words were spoken, the cross began to radiate with an even greater light, filling the entire landscape. The darkness that had once enveloped the land fled before the brilliance of the cross, and the remnant, now united in their return, stood together in the light of His glory. Their chains fell away, and the burdens that had weighed them down were lifted, as the power of the cross renewed their strength and restored their joy.

Beloved, the vision did not end with the cross alone, but with a promise—a promise that echoes in the hearts of the remnant as they stand together, their eyes fixed on the One who has called them.

“I am with you always, even to the end of the age” (Matthew 28:20), the voice declared, and the remnant knew that they were not alone. The Lord of all creation, the risen Christ, walks with them, leading them forward, not just to the cross, but beyond it—into the resurrection life, into the mission that lies ahead.

The vision fades, but the call remains: Return to the cross, O remnant of God. Remember the sacrifice, remember the Savior, and come back to your first love. The time is now. The world may have drawn you away, the cares of life may have burdened you, but the cross still stands, its power undiminished, its promise unbroken. You were called for such a time as this. Return, and be renewed. Return, and be restored. Awaken and engage, and find your rest in the One who loved you and gave Himself for you (Galatians 2:20).

The cross is your anchor, the resurrection your hope, and the return of your Savior your assurance. Stand firm, O remnant, and let your hearts be steadfast, for He who promised is faithful (Hebrews 10:23). The time is now. Return to the cross, and behold the glory of the risen Lord, who is, and who was, and who is to come (Revelation 1:8). Amen.