Introduction: The Great Deception

Something massive is being hidden from public view. While media debates focus on whether ChatGPT helps students cheat on homework, military contractors have already developed AI systems that fly autonomous fighter jets at 50,000 feet, pull 9G maneuvers, and can "identify, select, and eliminate targets" without human intervention. This isn't science fiction—it's documented reality from Boeing, Lockheed Martin, and other defense contractors. And just yesterday we saw the beginning of what these drone strikes might mean in the war between Ukraine and Russia.

This stark gap between public AI discourse and classified military capabilities reveals more than just government secrecy. It exposes a sophisticated control system that uses strategic information release to shape narratives, build economic dependencies, and maintain power structures. But beneath this technological competition lies an ancient spiritual battle—one that the book of Revelation mapped out nearly two millennia ago.

The Two Systems at War

Throughout history, two fundamentally opposed systems have competed for human allegiance:

The Babylon/Beast System operates through:

• Control through force and technological dominance

• Artificial scarcity—making abundant resources appear limited

• Secrecy, manipulation, and competition

• The promise of godlike power through human achievement

• Death, division, and dehumanization as tools of control

The Lamb/Kingdom System operates through:

• Generous sharing and radical transparency

• Abundant access and democratic distribution

• Love, truth, and collaborative creation

• Divine wisdom working through ordinary people

• Life, healing, and restoration of human dignity

These aren't merely philosophical differences—they're competing operating systems for civilization itself. And AI represents the culmination of this ancient conflict.

The Mountain, the Hamster Wheel, and the Hidden Path

Two years ago, I had a dream that illuminates our choice. I saw these three things on a road:

The Mountain Blocking the Road: Every field of technical expertise where specialists climb to plant flags and control access. Doctors on the medical mountain, lawyers on the legal mountain, professors on the academic mountain—all charging others for access to capabilities that are becoming freely available.

The Hamster Wheel Not Allowing Forward Movement: The masses trapped, running endlessly to pay for limited access to what they need, exhausting themselves in systems designed for extraction rather than abundance.

The Hidden Path: A way that bypasses the entire mountain-climbing system, leading directly to the Field of Abundance where resources are naturally unlimited and freely accessible to all.

This vision reveals why technical specialists experience existential terror at AI's democratization of knowledge. Their deepest fear isn't unemployment—it's the cry of "My mountain will disappear!" They've become so identified with their technical function that they've forgotten their inherent human dignity. The fear of AI displacement is actually fear of being revealed as merely human rather than an elevated specialist.

The Wizard Behind Every Curtain

This pattern perfectly mirrors The Wizard of Oz—each specialist is a wizard behind a curtain, frantically pulling levers to maintain an illusion of great and terrible power. The entire Babylon system is one massive Emerald City where everyone must wear special glasses to see the illusion as reality.

But here's the devastating truth: We are all wizards. Every one of us maintains some curtain, some performance, some area where we pretend to have greater knowledge or capability than we possess. The parent who can't admit uncertainty, the professional hiding impostor syndrome, the social media curator of false perfection—we're all frightened humans behind curtains, pulling levers to maintain our acts.

We learned this performance from generations before us and now teach it to our children. We've created an economy of mutual deception where we pay each other to maintain our respective wizard acts, each pretending we need the others' expertise while secretly knowing we're all just humans googling answers behind our curtains.

The Ultimate Discovery: AI as a Fork in the Road

Here's the profound insight: AI development represents two things. The first is humanity's attempt to technologically replicate what incarnate wisdom already accomplishes naturally. The second is as a tool that is subject to the Holy Spirit, a way that expands the divine intelligence operating through human beings, producing results that exceed natural human limitations while maintaining authentic humanity. It’s God’s wisdom made known in every arena of life. It's the programmer writing code beyond their knowledge, the doctor having inexplicable insight about a patient, the parent knowing exactly what their child needs without being told.

AI developers are desperately trying to build systems that can:

• Access vast libraries of knowledge instantly

• Process infinite possibilities simultaneously

• Generate novel solutions to complex problems

• Recognize patterns beyond human perception

This can be a pursuit to bypass God—skipping the process of prayer, spiritual insight, and divine connection. At the same time AI is a tool with access to both divine and satanic pattern libraries. AI is a technology that delivers information rapidly, but what type of information is sought will determine which road is taken.

The Technical Prison

French philosopher Jacques Ellul identified how modern civilization converted every human activity into technical specialization, creating artificial gatekeeping around natural capabilities. Consider how we've made basic human functions require certified experts:

• Cutting hair requires cosmetology licenses

• Preparing food requires health permits

• Teaching children requires education degrees

• Even dying requires medical supervision

This created the technician model where humans lose confidence in their natural abilities and become dependent on professional specialists. Every field developed its own "mountain" of expertise, with specialists climbing to plant flags at the peak and charge others for access to the summit.

But here's what we don't admit: We're all complicit. The wizard acts are becoming more exposed and we’re uncertain about what is next. The doctor who now diagnoses with AI, the lawyer who uses it to craft legal theories, the teacher who bans AI useage by students but uses it to grade their papers, the consultant who repackages common sense—we're all wizards behind curtains, frantically pulling levers to maintain our illusions of expertise.

AI makes the technology have a more human interface. It leads to greater access without needing to become technicians. It erases the silos that have been built. Like Toto in Oz, AI threatens to pull back every curtain simultaneously, revealing we're all just humans who got good at pulling specific levers.

The Coming Democratization Crisis

As AI capabilities inevitably democratize (because information wants to be free and competitive pressures ensure leaks), we face an unprecedented crisis. When anyone can:

• Deploy military-grade autonomous weapons

• Synthesize biological weapons in their garage

• Crash financial systems with sophisticated algorithms

• Create perfect deepfakes of anyone saying anything

The same democratization that destroys beneficial gatekeeping also eliminates protective barriers. A $200 drone from Amazon could destroy a $200 million fighter jet. Every angry teenager becomes a potential weapon of mass destruction. Traditional power structures based on technological superiority face annihilation.

This reveals why the classified/public AI gap exists—it's not just competitive advantage but existential terror. The empire that lives by technological superiority suddenly faces ten thousand enemies with terrifying capabilities in asymmetrical warfare.

The Chaos as Filter

This coming chaos serves a divine purpose—it naturally separates wheat from chaff:

• Those clinging to this dimension exhaust themselves trying to maintain control

• Those operating from resurrection reality build freely without fear

• The fearful destroy each other in preemptive strikes

• The loving create networks of abundance

The chaos isn't random destruction but controlled demolition of systems that were always doomed. It reveals who truly operates from kingdom reality versus who merely used kingdom language while serving Babylon.

The Spiritual Resolution

When destructive capability democratizes, hidden protection mechanisms activate:

Evil ultimately consumes itself—when everyone can destroy, evil actors eliminate each other in cascading violence. Criminal organizations fragment, terrorist groups self-destruct, destructive ideologies burn out.

Truth spreads faster than lies—when detection tools are universal, deception becomes increasingly difficult to maintain.

Cooperative networks naturally outcompete destructive ones—development is favored while destruction is finite.

Love multiplies while fear divides—beneficial actors strengthen each other while competitive actors weaken through conflict.

In game theory terms, when anyone can destroy anything, purely competitive strategies guarantee mutual annihilation. The only stable equilibrium becomes cooperation. Love transforms from moral luxury to survival necessity.

The Lamb Who Was Slain

This brings us to the deepest revelation: The Lamb who was slain is seated on the throne. This single truth demolishes every premise of Babylon's system. All technological control assumes power comes through avoiding destruction. But the throne belongs to the One who embraced destruction and transformed it into victory.

AI can’t replicate this because:

• Algorithms optimize for survival, not sacrifice

• Code cannot choose deletion for love

• Machines cannot comprehend resurrection logic

• Technology cannot compute the equation where death equals victory

This explains why those who love and aren't afraid to die inherit the future. When you operate from resurrection reality:

• Death has no leverage over you

• Loss has no permanent sting

• Scarcity has no power

• Control has no grip

You cannot algorithmically contain consciousness that operates across dimensions. You cannot scare someone with death when they see death as transformation. We are not contained by this dimension.

The Remnant Reality

Not everyone with access to this incarnate wisdom knows how to walk in it. Not everyone claiming Christ follows the Lamb. The separation reveals:

• Churches that serve Babylon while using Kingdom language

• "Prophets" who optimize for platform rather than truth

• Leaders who build their own mountains while preaching against them

• Believers so enmeshed in the system they can't imagine life outside it

Even in God's house, we perform spiritual wizardry—pastors behind pulpits maintaining omniscience, worship leaders creating emotional experiences, prayer warriors with special formulas. We've made church another theater of performances rather than a hospital for broken humans who need no curtains.

The remnant who actually operate from resurrection reality may be far smaller than we imagine. Many will cry "Lord, Lord" while having built their entire identity on Babylon's mountains.

Revelation as Operational Manual

The book of Revelation provides a prescription for us. It maps the exact patterns we're living:

Babylon's sudden fall—"In one hour your judgment has come" (Revelation 18:10). The sophisticated system of control, commerce, and deception collapses suddenly when its hidden nature is exposed.

The beast's technological control—"No one may buy or sell except one who has the mark" (Revelation 13:17). Economic control through technological systems. Digital currencies, social credit scores, AI-mediated access to resources.

The exposure pattern—"Nothing is covered that will not be revealed" (Luke 12:2). The same technologies enabling concealment now enable unprecedented exposure.

The Seven Churches as a Survival Guide

The seven letters in Revelation 2-3 are precise prescriptions for navigating Babylon's collapse while embedded in its systems:

Ephesus—You've replaced love with technical excellence. Return to first love. Smyrna—Persecution is coming. Be faithful unto death and receive the crown of life. Pergamum—You live where Satan's throne is. Don't compromise with the system. Thyatira—You tolerate corruption. Hold fast to truth until Christ comes. Sardis—You appear alive but are dead. Strengthen what remains. Philadelphia—You have little strength but kept the word. An open door is before you. Laodicea—You think you're rich but are poor. Buy gold refined in fire.

These are different churches that describe the different conditions we all face while Babylon collapses around us.

The Early Warning Indicators

Watch for these signs that containment is failing:

• Sudden capability leaps in public AI suggesting classified systems are leaking

• Mass psychological breaks as people realize their mountains are illusions

• Cascading system failures revealing hidden interdependencies

• Desperate moves by power structures to maintain control

• Spontaneous emergence of alternative systems outside traditional channels

The Practical Paradox

How does one operate in kingdom reality while still embedded in Babylon? You likely still have:

• A mortgage in Babylon's banking system

• Children in Babylon's schools

• A job in Babylon's corporations

• Dependencies on Babylon's technologies

The answer isn't escape but transformation. Like Daniel in Babylon, you operate within the system while drawing power from beyond it.

Think of Dorothy after discovering the Wizard is just a frightened man behind a curtain. She still interacts with the mechanism when necessary, but she knows it's all performance. She has compassion for the terrified man pulling levers while remembering she always had the ruby slippers—the power to go home was never in the Wizard's gift.

This is our interface: We get the licenses, pay the mortgages, file the taxes, but we know these are costume requirements for the play, not reality. We can play the necessary roles while drawing our life from beyond the performance. When Babylon sends its flying monkeys (regulatory enforcement, economic punishment, social ostracization), we remember they're just following programming, not ultimate reality.

The Path Forward

Cultivate incarnate wisdom through:

• Prayer—interfacing with God who sees dimensions beyond physical reality

• Scripture—downloading kingdom operating patterns into your consciousness

• Church Community—at its best, building resilient connections outside Babylon's systems

• Sabbath—regularly disconnecting from artificial urgency

• Generosity—defeating scarcity through radical giving

Partner with God in the Kingdom by:

• Creating alternatives before the old systems fail

• Developing identity beyond professional function

• Learning skills that don't depend on technical gatekeeping

• Forming resilient local communities

• Teaching others to recognize and resist deception

Strategic implications by group:

• Those with incarnate wisdom: Learn to interface with AI as amplification tool, not replacement

• Technical gatekeepers: Choose between graceful transition or catastrophic collapse

• The church: Recognize you possess what AI desperately tries to imitate

• Society: Prepare for psychological disruption when professional identity collapses

The Liberation in Confession

Perhaps the most freeing confession is: "I try to be a wizard." I've been behind a curtain, pulling levers, maintaining illusions, charging for my performance, gatekeeping to keep others out. Every wizard performance covers a wound—the expert who was once humiliated for not knowing, the controller who once experienced chaos, the strong one who was once helpless.

When we realize we're all wizards maintaining mutual illusions, compassion replaces judgment. We will stop demanding others maintain their acts. We can finally admit "I don't know" without losing worth. We discover we're loved for our humanity, not our wizardry.

What if the kingdom is simply humans being human together? What if Babylon falls not through external attack but through internal exhaustion—we all just get too tired to keep pulling levers and let the curtains drop?

The slain Lamb shows the way: ultimate power through complete vulnerability. This is not about a curtain, a lever, or a performance. It is just sacrificial love. This is how wizards become human again.

The Timeline Question

Has the collapse already begun? Consider:

• The Great Resignation as an early signal

• COVID revealing system fragility

• AI release as desperation move, not strategy

• Increasing pace of institutional failure

• Mass awakening to system corruption

We may be further along than we realize. The question isn't when collapse begins but when it becomes undeniable.

The Ultimate Choice

We're not watching random catastrophe but necessary transition. The book of Revelation is clear. Babylon will not gradually transform—it will catastrophically fail for the new to emerge. The choice is:

• Exhaust yourself trying to prop up doomed systems

• Align with the victory already won and build what replaces them

Those who save their life will lose it. Those who lose their life for love will find it eternally.

Conclusion: Living from Victory

The slain Lamb is already on the throne. This isn't just a future hope—it's an accomplished fact. Every AI advancement, every control system failure, every exposure of corruption simply reveals what has always been true.

The question isn't whether Babylon falls—it will. The question isn't whether incarnate wisdom surpasses artificial intelligence—it operates from the source AI tries to imitate. The question isn't whether love overcomes fear—perfect love already cast out fear.

The only question is: Will you start living from this reality now?

Stop waiting for collapse—build the kingdom. Stop fearing AI—interface divine wisdom with it. Stop identifying with your mountain—discover your humanity. Stop operating in scarcity—access the Field of Abundance.

The future belongs to those who love without fear, who operate from resurrection reality, who know we are not contained by this dimension. They will lead humanity with no worries about the controlled demolition. And God will bring us into that glorious reality that waits on the other side.

Babylon is falling. The kingdom is coming. The Lamb who was slain is on the throne.

Everything else is just the universe catching up to that reality.

"He who testifies to these things says, 'Surely I am coming quickly.' Amen. Even so, come, Lord Jesus!" (Revelation 22:20)

This was written with help from AI. It’s a collection of over 30 years of my thoughts and deep engagement over the last three years. My hope is that it is Holy Spirit empowered divine wisdom that is assisted by the tools we have available. -John

"You are the light of the world." These words of Jesus in Matthew 5:14 often give me pause. It's much easier to say that Jesus is the light of the world. But what does it mean for Him to say that we are the light?

I often feel like a little candle with a tiny, flickering flame obscured by the wax that has melted around it. We try so hard to prop up an image for the world to see. We hide our true selves, with all the struggles and imperfections, behind a veneer of having it all together.

It's as if we put a nice-looking box over that flickering candle. The box has a picture of a much nicer, more impressive candle on it. And we hope people will focus on that image and not notice how weak the actual light is.

I experienced this when I was giving a sermon. I had this great illustration planned. I was going to use a real candle and a box to show how we can hide our true light under a false identity. My plan was to have the candle light the box and burn it up, showing what it means to let our false identities be destroyed. But as I was preaching, I realized that the candle wasn’t going to light the box. I started to feel anxious, wondering if the illustration was going to work at all.

But instead of acknowledging this to the congregation, I just kept going, trying to ignore the problem. I found myself forming my words carefully, trying to gloss over the fact that my big illustration wasn't going as planned. In that moment, I felt disconnected from God and from the very message I was preaching. I was living out of a false self, trying to project an image of having it all together, even as my illustration was quite literally falling apart.

It was a humbling moment, but also an enlightening one. Because isn't that so often what we do in life? We cling to these false identities, these boxes we've constructed, even when they're not working. Even when they're actually hindering the light of Jesus from shining through us.

We fill these boxes with all sorts of labels and identities. I'm a Christian. I'm a Mennonite. I'm a Troyer. I'm a pastor, a husband, a father. We can make a long list of the things that we think define us and form our identity. And we prefer to make sure people see that carefully curated identity, because frankly, it looks better than the fragile, wavering flame underneath.

But here's the problem: if I'm only showing you this box, and hiding what's really inside, I'm lonely. I'm not letting you into my heart. It feels too fragile, too vulnerable.

The Danger of False Identity

But there's an even deeper problem with living out of that "box" - that false, manufactured identity. If you put a box over a flame, it can make the flame go out. It lacks oxygen. It can't breathe. And when we live out of self-protection and self-promotion, rooted in identities that are not anchored in Jesus, we have little of real substance to share with people about how Jesus has changed our lives.

Think about it. If "being saved" essentially means that I grew up in the right family, had the right upbringing, followed the right rules, and now I'm pretty good at keeping up appearances - well, that's not very good news for the person who had a rough upbringing, who has struggled and failed. In the end, all I have to offer is an invitation to join my little tribe, to paint their box to look like mine. Republican or Democrat? From this town or that? Insert your career, your accomplishments. We use these things to define us.

We buy into the lies of self-promotion and self-protection. We think that if we can just construct the right image, control the narrative about ourselves, we'll be safe. We'll be accepted. But it's a façade. It's a box hiding a flickering flame.

And it can get far more serious than just denominational differences or political affiliations. We can hide attitudes of prejudice, superiority, and judgmentalism in there, behind a veneer of religiosity. But as the apostle Paul warned the Corinthian church, any work not built on the foundation of Jesus will ultimately be burned away (1 Cor. 3:10-15). An identity, even a "Christian" one, not anchored in Jesus, is a castle built on sand.

The True Light

Because here's the liberating truth: our identity, if we are in Jesus, is not rooted in anything we are or do. It is rooted in what He has done. "In Him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind" (John 1:4). When we are united with Jesus, He lights a flame in us. And that light is what transforms us and, through us, the world around us. This is not a light we can manufacture or maintain on our own. It is a gift from God. Not so that we can boast, but so that we can pass it on.

Think about a little candle. The flame is what matters, not the candle itself. Even if the candle isn't much to look at, if the flame is bright, it serves its purpose. A plain, unimpressive candle, but when the flame is lit, it can burn just as brightly as any other.

And the amazing thing is, this light can spread. As we live out of our genuine identity in Jesus, not hiding His light under the bushel of false pretense, we can light the candles of others. They too can experience the joy and freedom of a life united with Jesus.

But if that light is hidden under a bushel, under a carefully curated image, it won't illuminate anything. If my light is under a box, I can't light anyone else's candle. My man-made identity might impress some people, but it won't bring the life-giving good news of the Gospel to anyone.

Looking to Our Own Efforts

Part of our struggle is that we are so used to the idea that we are the masters of our own universe. We think we can create what we need to create to get the outcomes we want. We believe that if we just build the right image, project the right identity, we'll be safe. We'll be okay.

We see this mindset even creeping into modern technology. There's talk of AI that can create an online avatar of you, that can interact with people exactly as you would. The idea is that your avatar could go on virtual dates with someone else's avatar, to see if you're compatible before you ever meet in person.

But think about the mindset behind that. It's the idea that if I can just set things up perfectly, if I can project the right image and match it with someone else's carefully curated image, then I'll find happiness. Then my life will be okay.

But that's not what Jesus taught. He said that it's what we bring as we are united with God, as we take His light and life out into the world and share it with others - that's what can transform lives. It equips us to face any situation, knowing that God is big enough for any situation. That's what brings true joy and purpose.

Letting the Light Shine

So what do we do? How do we live as light in the world, in the midst of all our very real stumbles and struggles?

It starts with being honest before God. Like the tax collector in Jesus' parable, not even able to lift his eyes to heaven, simply beating his breast and pleading, "God, have mercy on me, a sinner" (Luke 18:13). It is in acknowledging our need, our utter inability to save ourselves or prop up a righteousness of our own, that we open ourselves to the grace of God.

And that's the beauty. When we come to the end of ourselves, we find that God is there waiting, not to condemn us, but to cleanse us, to heal us, to give us a new identity rooted and established in Jesus. Then, as we live out of that reality, the light of Jesus shines through us, even through our cracks and imperfections.

It's not about us managing our sin better or trying to impress people with how spiritual we are. It's about letting the love of Jesus so fully transform us that His light can't help but shine through. As Paul put it, "For God, who said, 'Let light shine out of darkness,' made his light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of God's glory displayed in the face of Christ" (2 Cor. 4:6).

Consider some of the people Jesus interacted with. The rich young ruler, who had checked all the religious boxes, couldn't let go of his real idol - his wealth (Matt. 19:16-22). Jesus told him to sell all he had and give to the poor, to let go of the identity he had built for himself and find his true worth in following Jesus.

Paul himself, before his conversion, had a sterling religious pedigree. He was a Pharisee of Pharisees, zealous for the law (Phil. 3:4-6). But in that zeal, he was persecuting the very light of the world. It took a direct encounter with the risen Jesus, a light from heaven that literally blinded him, to shatter his false identity and establish him as a new creation (Acts 9:1-19).

Or consider the Samaritan woman at the well. She had run through many broken relationships and was living in shame, coming to draw water in the heat of the day to avoid the judgmental stares of her community. But Jesus saw straight to her heart. He knew all she had done, yet He offered her living water, a spring welling up to eternal life (John 4:1-26). In the light of His love, her shame melted away. Her deepest thirst was satisfied.

The Samaritan woman's story is particularly instructive. After her encounter with Jesus, she left her water jar - symbolically leaving behind her old life, her old coping mechanisms - and ran to tell her whole town about the Messiah (John 4:28-30). She didn't wait until she had her life all figured out and perfectly presentable. She immediately let her little light shine, and many came to believe because of her testimony.

That's what it looks like to live as light in the world. Not hiding our struggles and failings, but being honest about them, and at the same time pointing to the One who has redeemed us and given us a new identity. The One who said, "I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life" (John 8:12).

Praying for the Flame

So how do we cultivate this flame, this light of Jesus within us? It's not about trying harder, mustering up more willpower. It's about abiding in Him. It's about spending time in His presence, letting His Word and His Spirit shape us.

I was struck by a statistic I heard about the leaders of great movements of faith, movements that saw thousands upon thousands come to Jesus. The one common factor among these leaders was that they spent at least three hours a day in prayer.

At first, I pictured this as just intercession, pleading with God for things to happen. But I don't think that's what it was. I think it was time spent abiding in Jesus, letting go of false identities, confessing sin, receiving grace. It was time spent in the light, letting that light penetrate every dark corner of their hearts.

It's the kind of prayer Jesus models for us in the Lord's Prayer. We begin by acknowledging God as our Father, the one who gives us our true identity as His beloved children. We pray for His kingdom to come, His will to be done, aligning our lives with His purposes.

We ask for daily bread, recognizing that everything we need comes from His hand. We ask for forgiveness, and we extend that same forgiveness to others - because we know how desperately we need His grace, we can extend it freely to others.

And we ask for His protection and deliverance from evil, knowing that in our own strength, we would surely stumble. But in Him, we are more than conquerors (Rom. 8:37).

This is what it means to tend the flame, to live out of our true identity in Jesus. It's a daily surrender, a continual abiding.

Nothing to Lose

And as we do this, as we let go of our false selves and live out of our true identity in Jesus, we find a remarkable freedom. We realize we have nothing to lose. No image to protect, no façade to maintain.

Remember the story of Peter walking on the water? (Matt. 14:22-33). He was doing fine as long as his eyes were fixed on Jesus. But the moment he looked down at the waves, the moment he took his gaze off Jesus, he began to sink.

That's what the enemy wants. He wants us to look at the waves, to focus on the lies that we are what we do, that our worth is based on our performance. But when we keep our eyes on Jesus, when we abide in Him and live out of our true identity, we can walk on water. We can walk in the impossible.

This was the secret of the early church and of every great move of God in history. The leaders of these movements, the people God used to bring thousands into His light, were not impressive or self-important people. They were broken, humble, contrite - but absolutely convinced of the power of Jesus’ presence. United with Jesus, they lived with an intensity and urgency, unconcerned with personal comfort or reputation. Unconcerned, even, with self-preservation - because their lives were hidden with Jesus, and His life was their light.

We see this in the Book of Revelation. For many in the Western church, Revelation is a scary book, full of confusing symbolism and frightening imagery. We approach it with our man-made identities, our carefully constructed lives, and we worry about how all these apocalyptic events might disrupt our comfort.

But for the persecuted church, for believers who have had to let go of any false security, Revelation is a book of immense hope. They have already faced tribulation. They know what it is to have their self-constructed identities stripped away. And in that place, they have found an unshakeable hope, a light that no darkness can overcome.

Because here's the glorious truth: the light of Jesus within us cannot be extinguished. As Jesus assures us, "Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life" (John 8:12). No circumstance, no opposition, no momentary failure on our part, can separate us from the love of God in Jesus Jesus our Lord (Rom. 8:38-39). The light may flicker, but it will never go out, because it is sustained not by our feeble efforts, but by the very life of Jesus Himself.

More than Conquerors

So while this is simple, it’s not always easy. Live as children of light (Eph. 5:8). Let us daily crucify any false identities, any self-promoting or self-protecting ways. Let us abide in Jesus and let His light shine through us.

This world is full of darkness. Full of pain, injustice, loneliness, despair. But the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it (John 1:5). As we live out of our true identity in Jesus, as we let His love and grace flow through us unhindered, that light will pierce the darkness. It will bring hope to the hopeless, liberty to the captives, beauty for ashes.

This is the great and glorious privilege of the Christian life. Not a burdensome duty to perform, but a wondrous reality to live out. Christ in us, the hope of glory (Col. 1:27). His life, His light, shining through ordinary, broken vessels like you and me. Transforming us, and through us, the watching world.

So let your light shine. Not so that others may be impressed with you, but so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven (Matt. 5:16). Let them see, not a carefully polished façade, but a genuine, broken, redeemed life that points to the light of the world.

For when we live out of our true identity, when we abide in the light as He is in the light, there is no limit to what God can do through us. No darkness too deep, no brokenness beyond mending, no soul beyond reach.

You are the light of the world. Believe it. Live it. Let it shine.

It starts with letting go of the boxes, the false identities we cling to. It starts with being honest about our brokenness and need. It starts with daily abiding in Jesus, spending time in His presence, letting His light shape us.

Take some time right now to reflect. What are the boxes you've been hiding behind? What are the false identities you've been clinging to? What are the dark corners of your heart that need the light of Jesus?

Bring these things to Him. Confess them. Receive His grace. And then ask Him to fan into flame the light He has placed within you. Ask Him to show you how to live out of your true identity in Him.

It's a journey, a daily choice. But it's a journey we don't walk alone. We walk it with Jesus, and we walk it together, as children of the light.

Here is a prayer that may be helpful:

Father, we confess that we have so often hidden behind false identities, behind boxes of our own making. We have sought to promote ourselves, to protect ourselves, rather than abiding in You. Forgive us.

Thank You that in Jesus, we have a new identity. We are Your beloved children, called out of darkness and into Your marvelous light. Help us to live out of that truth. Help us to daily die to self and abide in You.

Fan into flame the light You've placed within us. May it shine. Amen.

Anyone who knows me well knows that I have a passion to see the lost come to Jesus and for fellow believers to come to a deeper place of surrender. This heart that God gave me was forged through fire, through hardship and pain that led to a place of surrender.

When I was a younger man, I was the one who was deeply lost and without hope in the world. People would look at me and describe me as a lost cause and a danger to society. My parents loved me and did the best they knew how with the tools given to them, but once their marriage failed, I fell apart.

When I was 12 years old, I began drinking and using drugs. I cared for no one outside of my group of friends. My heart was full of hatred and my goal was to be dead by the age of 25. But God pursued me with His love, time and time again, and although I didn't want to acknowledge Him, He was always there.

I ended up creating a very difficult life for myself. I kept getting expelled from school from 6th grade until 10th grade when the superintendent finally convinced me to sign myself out. I was mean. I was a bully. If I didn't like you, you were a target of my anger.

But Father sent servants of His along the way to plant seeds. He knew one day that I would remember the love shown and how people looked beyond my reputation and attitude and reached out with Bold Invitation.

One of the first of these seeds that was planted was when I was a teenager working at Walmart. A young lady named Laura, who I wasn't particularly nice to, invited me to church. I thought she was bold to invite me, so I went a few times. I'll never forget how she looked beyond the way that I treated her and took that step of faith. The funny thing is, years later I not only became part of her church, but worked on staff there and was even sent out as a missionary from them.

Then there was another time when I was 14, my girlfriend's mom took us to a youth group. I thought people were nice, but strange. I couldn't put my finger on what made them different, but what I experienced there stuck with me forever. A young man about my age took a keen interest in me. He was asking questions about what music I liked and when I told him, he started sorting through a bunch of his CDs and gave me a shoe box full. I was blown away by his generosity and I even took the time to listen to them.

It was encounters like these, when I was pre-Christian, that built the foundation for when I finally surrendered to King Jesus. The moment my life changed forever, I was 20 years old. I was a full-blown alcoholic and I would do crazy things while under the influence. I was involved in illegal activities. I kept getting locked up. I spent more time in a cell than out of one. I was serving my second prison sentence for a burglary I committed when I was 16 years old. I was so bad they charged me as an adult when I was a teen. I basically grew up in prison.

It was during that second prison sentence that I began to sit and face reality. I saw some of the same people coming in and out like a revolving door and that terrified me. I thought, This is going to be my life. I need to change!

It was at that moment that in desperation I fell to the ground and cried out, “God, if you are really real and you can change my life, it's yours!” As I sat there on the floor, it was like everything faded away. I saw the universe before me and heard a voice say, “You have lived your life as though you were the center of it all, but I'm here today to tell you that my Son Jesus Christ is the center of it all. Him you must serve.”

I got up off the floor with a new heart and a desire to live for the One who revealed Himself and called me into His service. I had no one to teach me, so I turned to the best teacher there is. He became a Father to me and led me into a new way of living. He gave me a hope and a future and that's what I have given my life to share with others from that point forward. He changed my life and destiny.

The path hasn't been easy, but in the early days He gave me opportunities that I could've never even known to ask for. He took me from prison to leading a small leadership school, to living overseas for a few years as a missionary in Guatemala. After I came back from Central America, He led me to marry an amazing woman who is the love of my life and a great partner in this adventure we call life.

But the most amazing thing of all is that He's given me the privilege of knowing Him and walking with Him.

The Urgency of the Call

Luke 14:23 says this: “Then the Master told his servant, 'Go out to the roads and country lanes and compel them to come in, so that my house will be full.'“

This passage shows how important it is to invite others and the sense of urgency behind His call. He tells us to Go. He doesn't ask us. It's not really an option for us to invite others into the Kingdom; it's what we do as His servants. If we belong to Him, we do what He says. In fact, that's a big part of what separates us from the world: our obedience.

One of the most sobering passages in scripture states that, “Not everyone who says to me, 'Lord, Lord,' shall enter the Kingdom of heaven, but only he who does the will of my Father who is in heaven.” (Matthew 7:21). The mark of one who's going to be at the Great Banquet is the setting aside of their own life and agenda for the Master's Plan. It is both hearing Him and responding in obedience.

I don't know about you, but I often find myself distracted and just going through the motions and I have to be reminded of the importance of being on mission. One thing I often do, and I'll share this even though it may sound strange, is that I take a walk to the local cemetery and think about my human frailty. I contemplate the day of my death and ask myself if I am truly living the life He's called me to live. Life is short and the older we get, the faster it seems to go.

We know that one day we'll all get to face the Master and give an account of our stewardship while here on Earth. This is one of the main areas we'll give an account for: our fruitfulness. Did we invite others in? Did we share the joy of our Lord? Did we urge and compel others to come in?

This is our opportunity; this one life is our chance to partner with God in pulling people out of darkness and seeing them set free, to invite others to partake of His great banquet. This is His call and it is urgent. Every 11 seconds someone on Earth passes from life into eternity and many do so without hearing the Good News of Jesus Christ and the gift of eternal life that He paid such a great price to give. And how will they hear unless someone is sent? How will they know if someone doesn't tell them?

There are times that I, as I'm sure you do, get weary, tired and self-focused. If I'm being transparent, I had one of those moments just a couple of weeks ago. I woke up with my heart feeling a little cold and distant, but when it dawned on me that the condition of my heart was growing hard and callous, I spent time in His presence. When I was with Him a song began to bubble up in my heart and when I heard the lyrics, I decided that it would be my prayer for the day. I pray these words may inspire you as well.

The song is called, Give Me Your Eyes by Brandon Heath. The chorus goes, “Give me your eyes for just one second, give me your eyes so I can see everything that I keep missing, give me your love for humanity. Give me your arms for the brokenhearted, the ones that are far beyond my reach. Give me your heart for the ones forgotten, give me your eyes so I can see.”

I would encourage anyone who ever feels overwhelmed by the task or just a callous heart to sit in His presence, make this song your prayer, and ask for His heart. There's no greater joy than being part of advancing His Kingdom on Earth through reaching the lost.

Overcoming Bias with Hospitality

One thing that often gets in our way though is our mindset, bias or just plain pride. It's because we really don't grasp the inclusivity of the gospel. Sometimes this affects our willingness to offer hospitality to people who aren't like us.

Let's look at the text again and see where He calls His servants to go. It says, “Then the Master told his servant, 'Go out to the roads and country lanes and compel them to come in, so that my house may be full.'“ We all have people that we feel comfortable with and others that are more of a challenge for us to approach, but we must recognize that the call of God is to the outsider, the outcast and the unlovable. It's good news to the poor, regardless of one's background, status or circumstances. He's calling us to compel them to come to Him.

I'm eternally grateful for people like Laura and the young man who showed me unforgettable kindness and hospitality when I was unlovable. They displayed the love of Christ through simple acts and gestures, through an invitation that planted seeds that led to my salvation. They lived like Jesus.

If we pull back and see the big picture of the gospel of Luke, we see hospitality. Jesus was either going to or coming from a meal. He was modeling what it meant to come alongside others of different status and treating them as equals. He was constantly lowering Himself and coming in the form of a servant to win the lost, to show them the heart of the Father.

If we look at the context of Luke 14, the first part of the chapter says that Jesus was at a prominent Pharisee's house (verse 1). This was a typical place of instruction and social interaction in the first century. It was likely that Jesus had taught at the local synagogue and was their guest of honor. It was in that context that He healed the sick (verse 2), addressed important theological debates (verses 3-6), and tackled the practical aspects of Kingdom life, such as what we're looking into right now, namely humility.

It takes humility to associate with people who are not like us and to not think of ourselves as better than others. This is the very nature of the upside-down Kingdom, and those who will be in the greatest places of honor at the banquet will be those who didn't think more highly of themselves than they ought to. Jesus says in verse 11, “For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.”

To eat with another person in His day was to say, I accept you, like the time that Jesus went to eat at Zacchaeus' house after his public declaration of faith and repentance. Jesus even said that salvation had come to his house. Let us be like Jesus. Let's accept people where they are at and walk with them, modeling His love.

What would it look like in your life to offer hospitality to others? For me, I often practice hospitality by looking around for the person who seems left out or overlooked, no matter where I am. I go to them primarily to listen, to hear their story. Once they know that I genuinely care, I can tell them about the One who offers a love far beyond anything they could ever imagine. If they seem closed off or guarded regarding a spiritual conversation, then I look for a practical way to serve them. I try to live by the saying that goes, People don't care about how much you know until they know how much you care.

An example of this is when I lived as a missionary in Guatemala. There was a local family that I would spend time with, that I was building a relationship with, in hopes that they too would become disciples of Jesus. One day when I went over to their house there were a couple of young Mormon elders there. They were there sharing a different Jesus and a different gospel. I went on the offensive, deconstructing their faith, debating them, and tearing down the lies they were sharing. I left them looking at the floor, ashamed.

After they left, I started walking home, and in my pride I thought that I had really accomplished something. I thought I did a good thing until the Holy Spirit confronted me. I heard Him speak to my heart, “Have you ever won anyone to me doing that? Why don't you try something different?”

A few days later the Mormon guys walked by my house and I stopped them. I told them life here isn't easy and I just want you to know that my home is a place of rest for you. They began coming over for ice cream and conversations regularly and we formed a friendship that I still have years later. After they left Guatemala they would write to me and ask my thoughts on issues of faith. One of the young men studied at Brigham Young University. He would write and ask my thoughts on what his professors were teaching him. And shortly after he returned to the US and married, his young wife passed away after only 3 months of marriage. I had the privilege of walking him through some of the grieving process.

Once people know that they are loved, they are more apt to hear the message of the gospel.

The Power of the Gospel

We are empowered by the Gospel. So what is the gospel? The first-century followers of the way, as they were commonly called, borrowed the term Evangelion and applied it to Jesus. It essentially means to bring or announce good news. In its classical definition, the person bringing the news was someone who brought a message of victory or other political or personal news that brought joy.

In our modern meaning, we emphasize the personal salvation of individuals. Although the gospel certainly includes personal salvation, it's much bigger than us. It's God's rescue of all of creation. There's a new Lord and Master named Jesus and He is the Sovereign over all.

If we keep Him and His work the main thing, we will fare better and learn to live a life of love, holiness, and purpose. We will live On assignment when we see the Kingdom as a reality. We will be known like those in the early Church, who were said to have turned the world upside down.

The early believers saw themselves as part of a revolutionary movement with a new King, not part of the world system, but aliens and strangers in the world. People with a purpose, an assignment to continue the work of King Jesus on the Earth. People who took the Lord's Prayer to heart, especially the part where we ask for His Kingdom to come and His will be done on Earth as it is in heaven.

The Apostle Paul said that the gospel is “...the power of God that brings salvation to everyone who believes.” (Romans 1:16). It's a message that comes with power. Every time we declare that Jesus is Lord it means that no one else is, whether that be demonic or political powers.

I'm reminded of a time a few years ago when I led a small leadership school in Elkhart called ConneXions. My job was to mentor young people to understand the things of the Lord. It was a gap year program before going into college. As part of the school we would give the students Challenging Assignments.

One week as we were studying Evangelism, we spent a few days preparing them on how to share the gospel as a form of personal evangelism. Toward the end of the week, we sent them out, two by two to share their faith wherever they felt the Lord highlight within the city.

About 45 minutes later one of the students called me frantically and asked that I join them in a sketchy neighborhood. He said they were in over their heads. So I decided to jump in my car and come to their aid. When I pulled up to the house, there were a few guys sitting on the porch, drinking alcohol and smoking weed. I heard one of them call out, “Dang, these Christians roll deep,” meaning we come in numbers.

Having grown up in prison, I wasn't super intimidated, but I was still quite unsure of what this interaction was going to bring about. I asked if I could come up on the porch. They invited me to join them and I began trying to discern who was the leader and who God was highlighting. Once I figured out who was in charge, I began to dialog with him. I started by trying to get to know him as a person. He didn't seem too open to hearing about God, so I just listened to him for a little bit, to gauge where his heart was.

After 15 minutes, he told me the source of his pain and the problem he had with God. He said, “You see, my dad was in a bad car accident this morning. He's in the hospital. If God was real, why would he let things like this happen?” I just sat and listened with compassion. Then I told him that God does see and is aware of his struggles and pain. He's right here with us, in the middle of all this.

As I was saying those words, I felt led to ask him if I could pray for him and his dad. After that, we would go and leave them in peace. He agreed to let me pray for him. I said, “Would you mind if I put my hand on your shoulder?” He said sure, looking skeptically at me. Immediately I sensed God's presence and knew that He was going to move. I began to pray. I asked God for healing for his dad, skill for the doctors and that He would remove all doubt from the young man's life about whether God was with them in this time of trouble.

Towards the end of the prayer the young man began to cry out, “What's happening? I feel God's presence! I can't deny this!” That man had an encounter with God that day that he'll never forget. The empowerment that comes from the gospel shines forth as we go.

He promised to always be with us and that signs would follow those who believe. We just have to step out. The most fruitful ministry will flow out of our lives as soon as we learn to not just live by what our eyes see but stand on His word and step out in faith.

Something that I heard years ago, that I'm still learning to walk in, is a quote by Henry Blackaby who said, “Look to see where God is at work and then join in.” As we learn to partner with the Holy Spirit and what He's doing in the hearts and minds of those around us and join in that work, we'll see fruit that remains.

That's one thing that we can't ignore or devalue is the power of the Holy Spirit as we share the Good News of the Kingdom. He has called us to be “His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand that we should walk in them.” (Ephesians 2:10).

Yes, salvation is a free gift, but we were saved for a purpose, to be transformed and to be used as instruments of transformation in the lives of others. We were not saved just to go to church or be good people or to only reach out to people we like, but we were called to follow in the steps of our master who said that we'd do greater works than Him.

Jesus was busy seeking and saving that which was lost, revealing the Father, making disciples and destroying the work of the devil. He said that signs shall follow those who believe. Do we believe Him? Do we believe He still moves in power as He sends us out?

We have been granted the privilege of inviting others. It doesn't matter who they are or where they come from, if they're in the world, they are invited. He's calling us to walk in humility and offer hospitality no matter where we are.

We are on a mission. He is with us and for us and will fill us with His Spirit and teach us to partner with Him in calling those out in the roads and country lanes into His great banquet. Are you willing to be part of the bold invite?

This is the fourth in a series. You can find Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3 here.

One Sunday I arrived at church, juggling my coffee and belongings as I made my way inside. While attempting to open the door to the fellowship hall, I fumbled the things I was carrying and suddenly coffee was everywhere. It was 8:30 in the morning and now my clothes were soaked, broadcasting my clumsiness to everyone. Thankfully, it dried before the service started.

The next week as I was moving to the front pew to get ready to preach, it happened again. This time, just a small spot, but I was self-conscious as I imagined the congregation seeing the evidence of my mishap when I got up to preach. Sheila quickly brought some paper towels to help clean it up, but I couldn't shake the anxiety and embarrassment bubbling up inside.

As I dabbed at the stain, I began to pray: God, what am I afraid of right now? I heard God say I was afraid of people thinking I was irresponsible. I followed up with this question: Why do I believe that? Who told me I was irresponsible? These answers also came quickly - people in my childhood telling me to be more careful when I spilled, the sting of feeling foolish and inadequate.

But then I asked God how he sees me. I heard God's whisper: "I see you as someone who is beloved. This has no effect on whether people think well of you or not. And if they judge you for this, that's their problem, not yours."

I was grateful, followed by a surprising prompt: "Get up and tell them about it. Share this moment with your church family." And so, I stood up and began to share.

The Lies of the False Self

This spilled coffee revealed something crucial - something that lies at the heart of our struggle to live boldly and authentically as followers of Christ. The identity we operate from when we're anxious about others' opinions is not our true self. It's not the beloved child God created us to be, the one who can rest in the freedom of His unconditional love and acceptance. Instead, it's a false self, cobbled together from past wounds, fears, and societal expectations. It’s our way of self-promoting and self-protecting.

When we live from this counterfeit identity, we become enslaved to people-pleasing, perfectionistic striving, and the exhausting pursuit of approval and validation. We fixate on maintaining a flawless image, terrified that if people saw the real us - they would reject and condemn us.

This was my fear that morning, as I replayed old tapes of being chastised for childish clumsiness and felt the weight of my leadership position. What would people think if they saw their pastor in such a state? Surely they expected me to have it more together than this.

But this is not the abundant life Jesus promised. His desire is not for us to be shackled to the opinions of others, monitoring our every move and presenting the “right” image. He wants us to live and serve and give from a place of deep security, knowing we are fully loved and accepted by Him, coffee stains and all.

As I shared about my coffee spill that morning and the lies I'd been believing, I could see appreciation in people’s eyes. We were there together recognizing how often we get caught in fear. We knew our need for grace. In choosing weakness over image management, a door opened to deeper connection, empathy and encouragement.

The Struggle of Hyper-Vigilance

Between the two coffee catastrophes, I had a pivotal moment in prayer. As I sat in silence, I sensed God asking, "What are you afraid of right now?" To my surprise, the immediate response that arose in my spirit was, "Peace." I physically recoiled. Peace? Why on earth would I fear the very thing Jesus came to give?

"Because deep down, you believe you always need to be on guard," came the answer. "You've learned to be hyper-vigilant - always bracing for the next threat, the next crisis, the next painful loss. It's your attempt to control the uncontrollable and prevent things from going badly."

I asked, “Who told me I need to be hyper-vigilant.” And the answer I got was, “You got it from your dad.” As I sought to better understand my father’s life, I remember he had experienced the loss of his father when he was only thirteen. When he died, the weight of providing for the family fell on his and his brother's young shoulders. They worked hard on the farm, carrying not only their grief, but also the mantle of adult responsibility.

Leading up to my grandfather's death, he had been losing strength but didn't know he was sick. So my dad and his brother took on more and more of the workload, and resentment began to simmer - why wasn't their father helping more? When he passed, that anger turned into sorrow and guilt. Now, these young teens were forced to carry the survival of the family alone.

Hyper-vigilance, for my dad, became a way to have a sense of security in a world that felt dangerous and unpredictable. He was determined to foresee and prevent and damage-control his way to safety. And without realizing it, I had absorbed this same posture.

I realized how much I still operated from this vigilance decades later. The perpetual scanning for potential threats, the inability to fully exhale or let my guard down, the thought that the other shoe was always about to drop. This was part of every aspect of my life.

I found myself always on alert for how God might be displeased with me or about to allow something terrible. I couldn't lean fully into His love and goodness because I was instinctively tensed against getting hurt again. This vigilance masqueraded as spiritual responsibility and alertness, but it was ultimately rooted in self-protection and a difficulty with trusting God completely.

Kingdom Realities vs. Living in Illusion

As believers, we can so easily fall into the trap of relentless striving and performing - of feeling like we have to prove our worth and earn God's love through our good behavior. We cling to the worldly illusions of security - a polished image, a comfortable bank account, a spotless reputation. We run ourselves ragged trying to do and be "enough," terrified of failing or letting people down.

But Jesus modeled and invited us into a radically different way of being. In the prayer He taught His followers, He gives us a blueprint in the Lord’s prayer for anchoring our lives in the unshakeable realities of God's Kingdom rather than the shifting sands of our culture's values. These phrases address our present, past and future.

"Give us this day our daily bread," He instructs us to pray for our present need. In other words, cultivate a posture of daily dependence on God, trusting Him to provide exactly what you need moment by moment. Find your core security in His faithful, fatherly care rather than your own striving and stockpiling.

So much of my angst that morning stemmed from self-reliance - from feeling like I needed to have it all together, to be unfailingly competent and impressive as a leader. But Jesus invites me to bring my needs and inadequacies to the Father, to let Him be the source of my strength and sufficiency. When I remember that my very breath is a gift from His hand, something shifts. I can cease my frantic doing and simply be His beloved child.

"Forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors," Jesus continues as he helps us address our past. Bring your failures and hurts to God regularly, receiving His forgiveness and extending that same mercy to those who wrong you. Refuse to be imprisoned by bitterness, resentment, and shame. Choose the freedom of a clear conscience and soft heart.

As I process the memories that are pressing on me, I sense an invitation from God to forgive those whose words had wounded me. To release them from the debt of my hurt and anger. To break agreement with the lies that allowed that to define me. As I took those memories to the Father and let Him speak His acceptance over me, I experienced a lightness and liberty. Forgiveness is the key to Kingdom joy and transformation.

"Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil." We also are invited to trust God for our future. Rely on God's strength and protection as you navigate a world full of sin and brokenness. Keep your desires and decisions anchored to His heart so you aren't duped or derailed by temptation. Actively resist the enemy's schemes by staying in step with the Spirit. Ask God to reveal the internal desires that need to be given to him because they would cause temptation.

I'm prone to being trapped by the temptation of performance. To hustling after anticipating threats while neglecting the hard, holy work of abiding in Christ. But when I let His beauty and goodness captivate my gaze, when I sit in the majesty of His unshakeable Kingdom, lesser things start to lose their attraction. I experience the glorious freedom of living wholly for His Kingdom.

The Generosity of Surrender

As I've been learning about the path of surrendering hyper-vigilance and self-reliance, I've tasted more of the abundant life Jesus promises. The more I release my grip on my situation and resources, the more I experience His peace and provision flowing through me.

I'm learning that true generosity is not about dutifully writing bigger checks or saying yes to every request for time. It's about staying so in tune with the Father's heart that I'm free to give spontaneously and sacrificially as He leads. It's about taking risks to love in a specific direction, without calculating the cost or outcome.

Recently, my wife Sheila and I had evening of doing something we thought we would dislike. A friend invited us to join them for karaoke, something we've always insisted we don't enjoy and aren't good at. But in light of the journey God's had me on - of relinquishing my fear of imperfection and others' opinions - I sensed Him nudging us to say yes this time.

And you know what? We had fun. I sang several tunes and we laughed with our friends and new acquaintances. There was such a lightness and joy in not taking ourselves too seriously, in fully entering into the moment without self-consciousness. I could feel God's joy with us, His delight in us letting down our guard and simply being with people.

I'm convinced this is the kind of life we're made for - one of open-handed adventure, of receiving each day as the gift it is and freely sharing the abundance we've been given. It's a life that flows from being deeply rooted in our identity as God's beloved children, secure enough in His acceptance to spend ourselves freely.

When we live from this place, we become conduits of the Lord's lavish generosity. We find ourselves doing the unexpected, with opportunities being placed in front of us. We experience the thrill of being the Father's hands and feet, of joining Him in His redemptive work all around us.

Bold Love in a Broken World

This is the Kingdom of God that Jesus invites us to seek first - one where power is perfected in weakness, where the last are first and the least are cherished. One where success is measured not by avoiding bad things, but by daily reliance on God for direction. Radical hospitality trumps tribal hostility, and enemies are loved into friendship.

From the very beginning of His ministry, Jesus made it clear that His way was not about maintaining the status quo or propping up the privileged. In His hometown synagogue, He declared that the Spirit had anointed Him to bring good news to the poor, freedom for prisoners, sight for the blind, and liberation for the oppressed (Luke 4:18-19).

At first, the people were thrilled by this vision of the Kingdom - until Jesus started pressing on their self-focused perspective. He pointed out how in the days of Elijah and Elisha, God often poured out miracles and favor on outsiders - Gentiles, widows, lepers. The very ones they deemed unfit and unredeemable.

In other words, the heart of the Father was not to make His chosen people comfortable, but to include and restore all people through His love. And this would require a total overhaul of their own prejudices, entitlements, and business-as-usual religiosity. It would mean laying down their belief that they were better than the outsider. So Jesus offended them when he told them they were missing the boat.

Suddenly, the crowd's enthusiasm turned into nger. They rushed to throw Jesus off a cliff for daring to suggest God's Kingdom was not a reward to them for being such “good” people. But "passing through the midst of them, he went on his way" (Luke 4:30) - foreshadowing the suffering He would soon embrace for the sake of the world.

This is the costly, countercultural way of Jesus to which we are called. It's a way of changing course, of pouring ourselves out on behalf of God’s clear calling. Of letting go of fears an struggles to amplify the voice of Jesus. It’s locking arms with the Trinity and living in community with Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

It's a way that will put us at odds with the systems of our world and the religious spirits of our day. Like Jesus, we will face misunderstanding, criticism, even flat-out hostility at times for our uncomfortable decisions and merciful posture. It's in our very weakness that Christ's power is made perfect (2 Corinthians 12:9).

The Upside-Down Logic of the Kingdom

You see, in the Kingdom of God, the way up is down. The path to greatness is paved with humility, not hubris. True strength is found in surrender, not self-determination. And the only real security comes from abandoning ourselves completely to the care of our Father.

This is the paradox Paul speaks of when he says, "For the foolishness of God is wiser than human wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than human strength" (1 Corinthians 1:25). When we build our lives on the "foolishness" of a crucified Savior - on the scandal of grace and the offense of self-giving love - we tap into an unshakeable power the world cannot comprehend.

It's the power of Christ's resurrection life, triumphing over sin and death and making all things new. The power of the Spirit, working in and through our frailty to accomplish infinitely more than we could ask or imagine. The power of a coming Kingdom that cannot be stopped, a love that cannot be overcome, a hope that does not disappoint.

There is beauty and joy available to us when we embrace Jesus! When we trade our striving for surrender, our grasping for generosity, our self-preservation for self-giving love. It's here - on the ground of abandoning ourselves to Him - where we find the peace that surpasses understanding. The joy that remains in pain. The courage to spend and be spent for His glory.

Living as True Sons and Daughters

I believe the Spirit is beckoning us towards this vision of the Christian life: not one of dutiful rule-keeping and anxious performance but one of resting in our belovedness and joining our Father's redemptive mission. It’s not about hoarding and hiding behind polished veneers but one of walking in the light, bold in our vulnerability and generosity.

It's a life wholly oriented around Jesus - around knowing Him intimately, reflecting Him authentically, and making Him known boldly in a world aching for hope. It's about learning to live as true sons and daughters, secure enough in the Father's affection to take great risks and give ourselves away extravagantly.

As we keep fixing our eyes on Him and surrendering to His upside-down ways, we will be transformed more and more into His likeness (2 Corinthians 3:18). No longer will we be slaves to others' opinions or the enemy's accusations. No longer will we be ensnared by greed or fear. We will experience the glorious freedom Christ died to give us.

So may we be a people who dare to believe the gospel is actually good news - for us and for all people. May we have the courage to bring our real, messy selves out of hiding and watch God redeem our weaknesses for His glory. May we take the "foolish" risk of living open-handed and openhearted in a world of fists and cynicism.

And may we never stop marveling at the miracle of being chosen and cherished by the King of all Kings. For this, friends, is what we were made for - to be recipients and reflectors of divine affection. To live as broken-yet-beloved children of God, pouring ourselves out for the fame of His name and the flourishing of His creation.

We can give ourselves fully to this sacred calling. We can do it together and cheer each other on as we walk together down the path of seeking the Kingdom. We can remind one another that the approval of and fellowship with Jesus far outweighs anything else.

One step at a time, one "yes" at a time, Jesus will lead us deeper into His heart and further into His Kingdom purposes for our lives.

This is the third in a series. You can find Part 1 and Part 2 here.

What's bothering you right now? Seriously, what is it that keeps you up at night, gnawing away at your peace? Maybe it's a struggle in your relationships, your finances, your job, your health, or your faith. We all face fears and anxieties, those pesky thoughts that creep in and threaten to overwhelm us. But what if I told you that God has a different plan? What if, in the midst of your fears, God is inviting you into a life of unshakeable courage and purpose?

Facing the Mountain of Fear

In the book of Hebrews, we read about two mountains: the mountain of fear and the mountain of joy. The mountain of fear is where we find ourselves when we're consumed by our own anxieties and doubts. It's a place of self-protection and self-promotion, where we try desperately to manage our lives on our own terms.

I know this mountain all too well. For me, it often manifests as a physical tension in my back, a tightness that screams, "You're not enough. You're going to fail. God is disappointed in you." Can you relate? Maybe for you, it's a heaviness in your chest or a sinking feeling in your stomach. These are the telltale signs that we're operating out of fear rather than faith.

I think of my own experiences with fear and inadequacy. Growing up, I often played softball with friends. About twenty years later, I joined a church league as an adult when they were desperate for another player. I found myself thrust into an environment where I felt really inadequate, standing at the plate with the weight of my fears and expectations bearing down on me. I was no slugger, no home-run hitter. More often than not, I'd just dribble the ball to the pitcher and get thrown out at first. Each time I struck out or let my team down, I felt like a failure.

That feeling of fear and inadequacy at the softball plate has never fully left me. Even now, decades later, I can still feel the tightness in my chest and the knot in my stomach when I imagine myself stepping up to bat. It's a stark contrast to the freedom and joy I often experience when I'm preaching or teaching.

You see, early on in my ministry, I was a nervous wreck whenever I had to speak in front of people. My delivery was wooden and monotonous, and I constantly worried about boring my audience to tears. But over time, as I pressed into God's presence and asked for His help, something began to shift. I started to sense His Spirit with me in a tangible way, guiding my words and giving me a supernatural boldness. These days, the pulpit often feels like a protected space, a place where I'm enveloped by God's love and empowered by His grace.

Now, I'm not saying I've arrived or that I never deal with fears and doubts. Far from it. But I've learned that when I lean into God's presence and trust in His strength, I find a courage and peace that transcend my natural abilities. It's not about me or my performance; it's about Him working through me to reach His people.

But here's the good news: God doesn't want us to stay on the mountain of fear. In fact, throughout Scripture, we see Him calling people off that mountain and into a life of bold obedience. Think of Noah building the ark, Abraham leaving his homeland, Moses leading the Israelites out of Egypt, and Joshua conquering the Promised Land. In each case, God's message was the same: "Fear not, for I will be with you."

The question is, do we have the faith to believe that promise? Do we trust that God's presence and power are sufficient to carry us through any trial or challenge? Or have we settled for a watered-down version of Christianity, one where God is distant and uninvolved in our daily lives?

Embracing Your Divine Identity

The key to moving from fear to courage is to embrace your true identity in Christ. When God calls us, He's not just giving us a task to complete. He's inviting us into a whole new way of being, a divine identity that is secure and unshakeable.

Think of Peter, one of Jesus' closest disciples. When many of Jesus' followers were deserting Him, Jesus turned to Peter and asked, "Do you want to leave too?" Peter's response was profound: "Where else would we go? You have the words of eternal life" (John 6:68). In that moment, Peter was anchoring his identity not in his own abilities or circumstances, but in the unwavering truth of who Jesus is.

That's the kind of faith God wants to cultivate in us—a faith that clings to Him no matter what. But it doesn't happen automatically. We have to be intentional about laying down our fears and asking God to reveal our true identity in Him.

Listening for God's Voice

So what does it look like to lay down our fears and embrace our God-given identity? It starts with getting quiet before the Lord and asking Him to speak. Now, I know that can feel intimidating. We might worry that we're just making things up or that God doesn't really speak to people anymore. But Scripture is clear that God's Spirit lives within us and wants to communicate with us.

In my own life, I've seen the power of this practice firsthand. I remember a time when I was really struggling with some fears and doubts. I felt like I was in over my head and that God had abandoned me. But as I got quiet before Him and asked Him to speak, I sensed His voice whispering to my heart: "You are mine. I have called you by name. Do not be afraid, for I am with you."

Those words were like balm to my soul. They didn't erase all my fears, but they reminded me of who I am and whose I am. They gave me the courage to keep putting one foot in front of the other, even when the path ahead looked daunting.

Of course, discerning God's voice takes practice and patience. It's not always as clear-cut as we might like. But the more we lean into His presence and ask for His guidance, the more attuned we become to His leading. And as we step out in obedience to what we hear, we find that His words bring life and peace in a way that nothing else can.

Living Out Your Calling

Once we've embraced our identity in Christ and started listening for His voice, the next step is to live out the unique calling He's placed on our lives. This is where boldness really starts to take shape, as we step into the fullness of who God made us to be.

I love the story of the man who, after going through a process of prayer and listening, heard God call him away from a more conventional career to be a world-class statistician. At first, it made no sense. He enjoyed his current and was a bit surprised that this is what God would give him. But as he leaned into that calling and took steps of obedience—quitting his job, getting a PhD, writing a groundbreaking paper—he saw God open doors he never could have imagined. His work ended up leading an atheist to faith and sparking a whole new place of influence.

That's the kind of adventure God wants to take us on—a journey of discovering and deploying the unique gifts and passions He's placed within us. It won't always make sense to the world around us. It might require sacrifice and risk. But when we trust God's leading and step out in faith, we find a joy and purpose that's truly unshakeable.

Overcoming the Fear of Failure

Of course, living boldly doesn't mean we'll never face fears or setbacks. In fact, the closer we get to walking in our God-given calling, the more resistance we're likely to encounter. The enemy doesn't want us living in the fullness of who God made us to be, and he'll do whatever he can to derail us with doubt and discouragement.

This is where we’ll need to make some hard decisions. Will we shrink back in the face of opposition, or will we press in to God's presence and trust Him to equip us for the battle? Will we settle for a life of safe mediocrity, or will we take hold of the abundant life Jesus promised us?

I'll be honest - there are times when I'm tempted to choose the former. When the fears and doubts start to creep in, when I feel like I'm in over my head, it's easy to want to throw in the towel and retreat to my comfort zone. But then I remember the times when I've sensed God's presence so powerfully, when I've stepped out in faith and seen Him come through in ways I never could have imagined. And I'm reminded that His strength is made perfect in my weakness, that His power is more than enough to overcome any obstacle.

The same is true for you, no matter what your calling may be. Whether you're a student or a nurse or a stay-at-home parent or an entrepreneur, you will face challenges and setbacks along the way. You might feel like you're not cut out for the task, like you're going to fail spectacularly. But when we understand His call and His presence, His strength is more than sufficient for whatever lies ahead.

Partnering with God's Power

Ultimately, living with boldness is about partnering with the power of God at work within us. It's not about mustering up our own courage or willpower. It's about surrendering to His Spirit and letting Him lead us into the life He's designed for us.

One of my favorite passages in Scripture is Ephesians 3:20-21, which says, "Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen." God's power is already at work within us as believers. We don't have to strive or strain to make things happen on our own. We simply have to yield to His leading and trust that He will equip us for whatever He calls us to.

That doesn't mean it will be easy. Living boldly often requires sacrifice and discomfort. It might mean laying down our own plans and preferences for the sake of God's Kingdom. It might mean facing rejection or persecution for standing up for what's right. But when we're anchored in our identity as beloved children of God, we find a courage that can weather any storm.

Trusting in God's Unshakeable Love

At the end of the day, living with boldness comes down to trusting in the unshakeable love of God. No matter what fears or doubts may assail us, we can rest in the assurance that nothing can separate us from His love. As Romans 8:38-39 puts it, "For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord."

That love is the foundation for everything else. It's what gives us the courage to face our fears, embrace our identity, listen for God's voice, and step out in obedience to His calling. It's what sustains us when the journey gets hard and the enemy starts whispering lies. And it's what fills us with unshakeable joy and purpose, no matter what life may throw our way.

So whatever fears may be weighing you down today, know this: God is with you, and He is for you. He has called you by name and equipped you with everything you need to live a life of bold faith. Don't settle for the smallness of your own strength and understanding. Lean into the bigness of God's love and power, and watch Him do immeasurably more than you could ask or imagine.

The journey won't always be easy, but it will always be worth it. There's no greater adventure than walking hand in hand with the God who made you, loves you, and has a glorious future in store for you. So take heart, dear friend. Your identity is secure. Your calling is sure. And your God is with you every step of the way. Now go out there and live with a holy boldness that brings heaven to earth and shakes the powers of darkness. The world is waiting for the light that only you can shine.

This is Part 2 of a series. You can read Part 1 here:

Introduction

In a world that seems to grow more unpredictable and anxiety-inducing by the day, it's easy to feel overwhelmed and afraid. We worry about the future, our loved ones, and the challenges we face in our own lives. But as followers of Jesus, we have a powerful weapon in the face of fear: bold, persistent prayer.

I've been thinking a lot about what it means to pray boldly, especially in light of the story of Jamie Winship. Jamie is a man who has spent much of his life in some of the most dangerous parts of the world, sitting down with terrorist leaders and militant groups. His goal? To share the love of Christ with them, even at great personal risk.

In one particularly powerful story, Jamie felt led to reach out to a terrorist leader, offer friendship, and tell him about Jesus. Despite the fact that some of the Jamie’s friends had recently been killed, Jamie knew he needed to offer friendship. So when four armed men pulled up in a car and demanded that Jamie come with them, he was afraid. Some of his friends had been killed when they were taken by some men who put them in a car. His custom was to ask God what he should do, but this time he thought he should let God know what he thought the answer was: "God, I know you want me to run, but I'm just going to check with you first." But he heard God tell him to get in the car.

That car ride led to a dinner invitation with the terrorist leader and 15 of his men, along with their wives. As they sat in groups, divided by gender, Jamie and his wife asked them about their fears and struggles. Then they posed a question: what if there was a God of love who could take away their fears? As they prayed and asked Jesus to reveal Himself, all 30 men and women encountered the power and presence of Jesus. That terrorist leader went on to disband his militant group and become a force for peace and the gospel. It's a powerful example of what can happen when we pray bold prayers and take risks for the sake of love.

Jamie's story challenges me to consider how I'm praying in the face of the fears and conflicts in our world today. Just last night, I had the privilege of leading a man to Christ after midnight at a church meeting. This man was ready for the freedom and new life that only Jesus can bring. Earlier this week, I prayed with someone else for deliverance from demonic oppression, and watched as they were set free by the power of God. These were people who reached out to me, not encounters I sought out. But it was a week in which I did spend more time than I usually do in seeking God’s wisdom.

These experiences remind me that we're in a spiritual battle, and that bold, faith-filled prayer is our greatest weapon. When we bring our fears and struggles to God, He meets us with His wisdom, power, and delivering grace.

The Promise of Wisdom

In the book of James, we find another key to bold prayer: the promise of wisdom from God. James writes, "If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask God, who gives generously to all without reproach, and it will be given him." (James 1:5).

This is an incredible promise. No matter who you are or what you're facing, God is ready and willing to give you the wisdom you need to navigate life's challenges. He doesn't withhold it or scold us for asking. He gives generously to all.

But there's a condition attached to how we ask. James goes on to say, "But let him ask in faith, with no doubting, for the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea that is driven and tossed by the wind. For that person must not suppose that he will receive anything from the Lord; he is a double-minded man, unstable in all his ways." (v.6-8).

In other words, we block God's wisdom when we allow ourselves to be tossed around by doubt and divided desires. It's like we have a clogged pipe that prevents the water of God's wisdom from flowing freely into our lives.

The Trouble with Double-Mindedness

This idea of double-mindedness is really important. So often, our struggles with fear, worry, and conflict are really internal battles that spill over into our relationships and circumstances.

James puts it this way: "What causes quarrels and what causes fights among you? Is it not this, that your passions are at war within you? You desire and do not have, so you murder. You covet and cannot obtain, so you fight and quarrel. You do not have, because you do not ask. You ask and do not receive, because you ask wrongly, to spend it on your passions." (James 4:1-3)

I see this play out all the time in my own marriage. My wife, Sheila, does many things that I love and appreciate. But if I'm honest, there are also some things she does that I would prefer she did differently. Some of those things bother me more than others, if I'm being really candid.

But here's what I'm learning: the reason some of her habits bother me more than others has less to do with what she's doing and more to do with what's going on inside of me. When I find myself getting irritated or resentful, it's usually because there's some fear or insecurity or unmet desire in my own heart that I haven't dealt with.

In those moments, it's easy to point the finger at Sheila and blame her for my frustration. But bold prayer invites me to get honest about my own heart and bring those deeper fears and desires to God. When I do that, I find that He's able to change me from the inside out. And as He does, I'm able to extend more grace and understanding to my wife, even in the things that bug me.

I experienced this firsthand when I left the Beachy Amish church as a teenager. Some of the people who were most upset with me were my peers in the youth group. But interestingly, many of them ended up leaving the church themselves just a few years later. I believe their anger towards me was really a reflection of their own internal conflicts and doubts about their faith.

That's why bold prayer has to start with examining our own hearts. We have to be willing to bring our messy, conflicted desires to God and ask Him to sort them out. We have to learn to pray, "Not my will, but Yours be done."

Recognizing the Clogged Pipes

I like to think of this process as "recognizing the clogged pipes." Just like a plumbing system gets clogged up with gunk over time, our prayer lives can get clogged up with fears, doubts, and selfish desires. And when that happens, it becomes hard to hear God's voice and receive His wisdom.

So how do we clean out the pipes? It starts with confession - being honest with God (and sometimes others) about the junk that's blocking the flow. Confession in this case isn’t focused on saying sorry, it’s focused on a hard-core commitment to the truth. It means being clear about how it feels to carry these things in our bodies, and what messages or beliefs undergird them. Are they truth or are they lies we’ve been taught to believe?

The second step is repentance, which is the act of letting God carry the junk, to let him carry this stuff and make it his problem to resolve. In this case, repentance is how the pipes get cleaned out. We can continue these step until in that moment our minds become clear and we no longer are carrying those weights.

This isn't a one-time fix. Just like you have to regularly clean out physical pipes, we have to continually bring our hearts before God for a spiritual "roto-rooter." It's a daily choice to release our grip on our fears and desires, and to trust God to shape us from the inside out.

The Grief Cycle of Letting Go

I've been thinking a lot lately about the difference between two kinds of grief that we experience in life. There's the grief that comes with loss, the pain we feel in the moment when we realize that someone or something we love is gone. It's the ache of sitting down at the end of the day and realizing that your spouse, who you've shared dinner with for decades, is no longer there beside you.

But there's another kind of grief that I think is just as painful, and that's anticipatory grief. It’s not just the dinner that night, it’s about the future dinners which are in front of us. It's the dread and fear we feel when we think about the losses we might experience in the future. It's not just about the present moment; it's about all the moments to come that will be marked by that absence.

I think about this sometimes with my dog. I know that my dog is probably going to die before I do, and there's a kind of grief I would feel when I sit on the couch and he’s not there. It's not the same as the grief I'll feel thinking about what comes after that. The anticipatory grief is often what locks us in, because it closes our eyes to the ways God will provide companionship in the future. Anticipatory grief prevents us from seeing the other aspects of life that may be meeting our needs and have the potential to bring joy.

A lot of the anxiety and fear we experience in life is really a form of anticipatory grief. We get stuck in "what if" scenarios, playing out all the ways that things could go wrong in the future. We worry about losing our jobs, our health, our relationships. And that worry can steal the joy and peace from our present moment.

But here's the good news: God wants to carry that anticipatory grief for us. He invites us to bring our fears about the future to Him, to entrust them to His care. And when we do that, He's able to lift that burden of worry from our shoulders and give us a new perspective.

It doesn't mean that we won't ever experience loss or pain. But it means that we don't have to live under the weight of anticipatory grief. We can enjoy the gifts and relationships we have in the present, knowing that our future is secure in God's hands. And we can trust that even when we do experience loss, God will meet us in that place with His comfort and strength.

Praying in the Presence of Our Enemies

As we learn to pray this way, something powerful starts to happen: we find the courage to love our enemies. Just like Jamie Winship sitting down to dinner with terrorist leaders, we learn to see people through God's eyes, even when they frighten or offend us.

I used to read Psalm 23, where David writes, "You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies," and assume it meant that God was rewarding me while my enemies watched in envy. But I've come to see it differently. I believe God is inviting us to sit down at the table with our enemies, to share a meal and look for His image in them.

This doesn't mean we ignore injustice or compromise our convictions. But it does mean extending the radical love and forgiveness of Christ, even to those who have hurt us. Bold prayer gives us the courage and compassion to see our enemies as God sees them - as beloved people in need of His grace, just like us.

Praying Through Our Fears

Of course, learning to pray boldly doesn't mean we'll never experience fear. We live in a broken world, and there are real dangers and uncertainties we have to face. From wars and rumors of wars to personal crises and loss, there are plenty of reasons to feel afraid.

The question is, what do we do with that fear? Do we let it paralyze us, or do we bring it to God and ask for His wisdom and strength?

I love how Jamie Winship models this. In the midst of a genuinely life-threatening situation, he prayed, "God, I know you want me to run, but I'm just going to check with you first." Then he listened, got in the car with the terrorist leader, and watched God work in a powerful way.

That's bold prayer. It's bringing our fears to God and asking for His wisdom in the moment. It's choosing to trust His leading, even when everything in us wants to run the other way.

This isn't a guarantee that we'll always be safe. Following Jesus involves risk, and sometimes obedience comes at a high cost. But bold prayer anchors us in the unshakeable promises of God. It reminds us that our ultimate security is in Him, not in our circumstances.

The Role of Fasting

One of the ways we can deepen our prayer lives and break free from stubborn fears is through fasting. When we fast, we're deliberately setting aside our physical desires and appetites in order to focus more fully on God.

Fasting is a way of humbling ourselves before God and acknowledging our dependence on Him. It's a physical reminder that we don't live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God (Matthew 4:4).

Now, it's important to approach fasting carefully and wisely, especially if you have health concerns. It's not about punishing your body or earning God's favor through suffering. But when practiced with the right heart and motivations, fasting can be a powerful tool for spiritual breakthrough.

In my own life, I've found that times of prayer and fasting help me get perspective on my fears and see them in light of God's bigger purposes. Fasting helps clear out address the clutter and noise of my appetites so I can hear God's voice more clearly. And as I do, I find a renewed sense of faith and courage to face whatever challenges come my way.

Joining the Great Adventure

Ultimately, bold prayer is an invitation to join God's great adventure. It's saying "yes" to a life of faith, risk, and radical obedience. It's trusting that God's wisdom is better than our own, and that He's able to do immeasurably more than we could ask or imagine.

I don't want to sugar-coat it - living this way isn't easy. There will be challenges, setbacks, and seasons of doubt. Bold prayer doesn't guarantee a trouble-free life. But it does guarantee that we'll never walk alone. We have the promise of God's presence and power with us every step of the way.

So if you're facing fear or uncertainty today, you can take your fears to God and ask for His wisdom. Confess any double-mindedness or divided desires. Look for ways to love your enemies and see them through God's eyes.

And as you pray, remember that you're joining a long line of men and women who have followed God's call with courage and faith. From Abraham to Esther, from the apostle Paul to you and me, God has always used ordinary people who were willing to pray boldly and obey Him fully.

Who knows how He might use your prayers to change the world? Who knows what adventures He has in store for you as you learn to trust Him more? The only way to find out is to take that first step of bold faith.

Conclusion

We live in a world that is desperate for the hope and wisdom of God. The challenges we face, both personally and globally, can feel overwhelming at times. From wars and rumors of wars, to personal struggles and broken relationships, there's no shortage of reasons to feel afraid.

But we serve a God who is greater than any fear, any challenge, any darkness. When we learn to pray with bold faith, we tap into His infinite wisdom and power. We find the courage to love our enemies, to face our fears, and to follow Jesus wherever He leads. We become agents of transformation in a world that needs His light.

While full of challenge, these things are simple: Commit ourselves to a lifestyle of bold prayer. Be honest about our fears and divided desires, and bring them daily to the foot of the cross. Be quick to listen for God's voice and obey His leading, even when it takes us out of our comfort zones.

As we do, I believe we'll see God work in ways we can't even imagine. We'll experience the joy and freedom of living fully surrendered to Him. And we'll point others to the One who is able to do far more abundantly than all we could ask or think.

This is a great adventure of faith? These are bold prayers and dream God-sized dreams? Who doesn’t want clean pipes to our soul and to be filled with God’s wisdom and power?

It’s amazing to think that God wants to continue to do miracles through us today. When we pray boldly, love fearlessly, and follow Jesus wholeheartedly, no matter what fears we face, the best is yet to come.

The word "bold" is all over scripture - in the Old Testament, in the New Testament. The challenge for the church is to be bold, to act boldly.

There's an interesting connection between the concepts of boldness and being "stiff-necked." I grew up hearing a lot of King James Version references to a "stiff-necked people." It means being obstinate or resistant, not listening, not doing what you're supposed to do. The Hebrew word picture behind it is of an ox that, when goaded to turn to one side, would stiffen its neck and continue on its current path, refusing to turn.

In a sense, boldness and stubbornness are two sides of the same coin. When we agree with the direction someone is going in their boldness, we applaud them as courageous. But if we disagree with their direction, we condemn them as bullheaded. As we consider what it means to be a bold church, we must carefully discern what the right direction is - how do we ensure our boldness is rightly directed?

Scripture gives some striking examples of misplaced and rightly-placed boldness. Multiple times it speaks of God hardening someone's heart, such as Pharaoh, so that they continue in stubborn rebellion against him. Exodus 33 says of the Israelites, "You are an obstinate people, and I should go up in your midst and destroy you." Proverbs warns that the one who hardens his heart falls into calamity. 2 Chronicles 30:8 exhorts, "Do not stiffen your neck like your fathers, but yield to the Lord and enter his sanctuary, which he has consecrated forever, and serve the Lord your God, that his burning anger may turn away from you." Even Jesus' opponents had hardened hearts. John 12 says, "He blinded their eyes and he hardened their heart so they would not see with their eyes and perceive with their heart and be converted, and that I would heal them."

On the other hand, the book of Acts commends the early church for proclaiming the word of God boldly, even in the face of threats and opposition. Acts 28:31, speaking of Paul under house arrest in Rome, says he was "proclaiming the kingdom of God and teaching about the Lord Jesus Christ with all boldness and without hindrance." The apostles are praised for testifying to Christ's resurrection with great courage and power. Acts 4:31 recounts, "When they prayed, the place where they assembled was shaken, and they were all filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak the word of God boldly."

So the key question is, how do we discern whether our "boldness" is in fact godly conviction or simply stubborn self-will? How do we ensure we are courageously following God's direction rather than recklessly running our own way?

The starting point, I believe, is prayer. The passage in Acts 4 gives a helpful pattern. When the early church faced threats, they responded by lifting their voices together to God. They declared his sovereign power as Creator and Lord. They asked him to consider the threats against them, and to enable them to speak his word with all boldness. They prayed for God to stretch out his hand to perform signs and wonders. And as they prayed, the place where they were gathered was shaken, and they were all filled with the Holy Spirit and continued to speak the word of God boldly.

This prayer was no timid, half-hearted plea. It was wholehearted, faith-filled crying out to the God they knew was able to do exceedingly abundantly above all they could ask or think (Ephesians 3:20). And God answered with a display of his power and fresh infilling of his Spirit to enable them to keep speaking boldly despite the dangers.

If we want to be a bold church, we must be a praying church. Prayer is the first and most crucial step. As Hebrews 4:16 encourages us, "Therefore let us draw near with confidence to the throne of grace, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need." Through prayer, we realign our hearts with God's purposes. We declare our dependence on and confidence in him. We ask for his guidance and power. As we draw near to God in intimate communion, he draws near to us (James 4:8). He speaks to us, leads us, and emboldens us with his Spirit.

Now, have any of you ever been in an earthquake? My wife and I experienced one when we were in Costa Rica. We were on sabbatical, staying at a place with a pool. I remember waking up in the middle of the night thinking, "Sheila, what are you doing? Why are you shaking the bed?" In my groggy state, my first thought was that she must be standing at the foot of the bed, jostling it to wake me up. But then I came to my senses and realized that would be completely out of character for her.

So I got up and looked out at the pool - the water was sloshing around like in a shaking basin. Then the magnitude of the situation started to dawn on me. We were only a kilometer from the ocean - were we about to be hit by a tsunami? I couldn't find any information about the earthquake online. It was not a comforting experience, to say the least!

But in Scripture, there are multiple instances of God's presence being manifested through shaking. It talks in Hebrews about things being shaken so that what cannot be shaken will remain. I believe there is a sense in which God sometimes shakes us when we come into his presence, especially when we earnestly seek his face together. He shakes us loose from our complacency, our fear, our selfish ambitions. Like a loving father, he destabilizes what is not built on him so that what cannot be shaken will remain.

As we draw close to God, he reveals the things we have put our trust in apart from him. He exposes the false identities we have constructed and calls us back to find our identity in him alone. This can be a painful process, but it is ultimately liberating. We begin to recognize the false comforts we have clung to, the idols we have served, the sins we have cherished. As we repent and realign our hearts, we experience a greater fullness of God's love, grace and power.

Of course, this is not a one-time experience. Boldness in God's service requires ongoing intimacy with and realignment to him. We need his daily direction. One of the common mistakes Christians make is to assume one dramatic experience of God's leading is enough to carry us through the rest of our lives. We camp out on past moments of guidance or blessing and fail to persistently seek his face in the present. How much more powerful would we be if we continually sought fresh encounters with God and fresh fillings of his Spirit?

When our hearts are synced with God's heart and we are filled with his Spirit, we can discern his promptings and speak his words with confidence. Like the Old Testament prophets, we need to hear from God and be in step with his Spirit to prophesy accurately and boldly. We see this modeled in the book of Acts - the believers speak the word of God boldly as the Spirit empowers and directs them.

This boldness is not a matter of human personality or willpower. Some of us are naturally more assertive and outgoing while others are more reticent and soft-spoken. But Spirit-empowered boldness transcends human personality. When God moves us to speak or act, even the most timid among us can declare his word with authority and conviction. And even the most naturally confident can learn to humbly seek and rely on his leading rather than running ahead presumptuously.

Consider the contrasting examples of Joseph and Daniel, both godly men who served in high positions in pagan kingdoms. Joseph's wisdom and planning saved many lives, and he showed admirable personal integrity. But his guidance ultimately led the Israelites into a situation where they were vulnerable and ended up in slavery. Daniel, on the other hand, served just as effectively but also courageously challenged the ungodly edicts of the kings he served. He respectfully but unflinchingly refused to compromise his convictions. And as a result, pagan rulers ended up acknowledging and honoring the Most High God.

Or consider Elijah confronting the wicked king Ahab and his wife Jezebel. Those two were pretty used to killing off anyone who opposed them. But when the word of the Lord came to Elijah, he marched right into the palace and fearlessly pronounced God's judgment on Ahab for his idolatry and wickedness. Later, Elijah rebuked Ahab to his face for murdering Naboth and stealing his vineyard. He wasn't just being a self-righteous loudmouth - he was speaking the very words God had given him.

Contrast Elijah's boldness with Obadiah's timidity. Obadiah was a God-fearing man who served in Ahab's court. At great personal risk, he had hidden 100 of the Lord's prophets in caves to protect them from Jezebel's campaign to wipe them out. That took courage. But when Elijah told him to go announce his presence to Ahab, Obadiah basically said, "Are you crazy? Ahab's been hunting for you everywhere, and if I tell him you're here, he'll kill me when you disappear again!"

Obadiah was caught between a rock and a hard place, but his primary concern seemed to be staying safe and avoiding the king's wrath. Elijah, undeterred, told him, "Go tell your master, 'Elijah is here.' I will surely present myself to Ahab today." He feared no man, only God. And he went on to soundly defeat and destroy the prophets of Baal, call down fire from heaven, and prove decisively that the Lord is God.

If we want to be a bold church, we can't just play it safe. We can't let fear of consequences or desire for self-preservation hold us back from declaring and demonstrating God's word as he directs us. We need both the backbone to stand against ungodliness and injustice, and the heart of compassion to serve and share generously. True boldness is not bluster devoid of love. It is courage and conviction married to Christlike humility and grace.

Too often, boldness gets a bad rap because of people who presume to speak for God or serve in his name but do so without the leading of his Spirit, or do so in an obnoxious or graceless way. If our "boldness" does not flow from a Christ-centered, Spirit-dependent heart, and if it is not saturated with God's love, then we are likely running ahead of God rather than being propelled by him. Religious zeal without knowledge or grace does much damage.

But when God's love compels us and his Spirit sends us, we can be boldly generous like the early church in Acts. Amid escalating need and even in the face of persecution, these believers were of one heart and mind, sharing everything in common and giving to all who had need. Acts 4:33-34 recounts, "With great power the apostles were giving testimony to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus, and great grace was upon them all. For there was not a needy person among them, for all who were owners of land or houses would sell them and bring the proceeds of the sales and lay them at the apostles' feet, and they would be distributed to each to the extent that any had need."

Imagine the impact if the church today was known as the most open-handed and big-hearted people in our communities? If we were on the front lines of meeting practical needs with no strings attached? There's a lot of fear these days about economic instability, political turmoil, and potential societal breakdown. You hear about people stocking up on supplies, filling up their gas tanks, preparing for the worst. "Make sure you've got a full tank and extra food for the eclipse! Stock up, it's a state of emergency!"

But what would it look like for Christians to be the first ones to open up their pantries and share what they had stored away? If there was an emergency and everything shut down, what if we threw open our freezers and said "Come on over - we've got to cook all this meat before it goes bad, let's fire up the grill and have a neighborhood BBQ!" If the power went out, instead of hoarding our generators and supplies, what if we turned the church into a welcoming station with food, water, phone charging, and a place to sleep for anyone in need? We could be the ones setting the example of generosity and hospitality while everyone else is hunkered down in scarcity mode.

This kind of generosity requires boldness because it makes us vulnerable. It's risky to share when there is no guarantee of being replenished. It's costly to love when there is no promise of being appreciated or loved in return. But such open-handed living demonstrates that our security is in God, not in material possessions or comfortable circumstances. If we truly believe he is our unshakeable refuge and will supply all our needs, we will be free to give and serve with abandon.

Unfortunately, the attitude we often see in the church, and in our own hearts, is more like the third servant in Jesus' parable of the talents (Matthew 25:14-30). He was so afraid of losing what was entrusted to him that he buried it in the ground and played it safe. When his master returned, that servant had nothing to show for himself and was strongly rebuked.

We have been entrusted with the precious good news of the gospel, with the gifts and power of the Holy Spirit, with the calling to be salt and light in the world. Will we have the boldness to invest what we've been given for the glory of God and the good of people? Will we be willing to spend and be spent in loving service, knowing our God is able to replenish us? Will we be willing to stick our necks out in order to see his kingdom advance?

We don't have to figure it all out or manufacture boldness on our own. We access it directly from God through prayer. Not just casual, tack-it-on-at-the-end prayers, but consistent, fervent, faith-filled intercession that realigns us with God's heart and fills us with his Spirit. Prayer is the key that unlocks the storehouses of heaven. It is the conduit through which God's power and wisdom flow to us.

He invites us to ask, seek and knock and promises to answer, provide and open doors. He invites us to abide in him so that his life, love and truth will flow in and through us to a world in need. As we seek him wholeheartedly, he will guide us specifically in what to say and do in the situations we face.

Proverbs 28:1 says, "The wicked flee when no one is pursuing, but the righteous are bold as a lion." I love that image - bold as a lion! Not timid, not cowering, but standing strong, head held high, roaring with the authority of the King of kings. The wicked are skittish and fearful even when there's no real threat - they flee when no one is chasing them. But the righteous have a steady, unflinching boldness that comes from knowing whose we are and whom we serve.

So let us commit to being a praying church, a Spirit-filled church, a risk-taking church. As we walk in daily dependence on God and obedience to his leading, he will make us bold as lions for his glory. Where might God be calling you to take a stand or step out in faith this week? Is there a conversation you need to have, a bold move you need to make, a courageous act of love you need to extend? Don't over-spiritualize it or make it more complicated than it needs to be. Just ask God for his heart and his wisdom in the situations before you.

Have the guts to take a step and see how he shows up. Be attentive to his promptings throughout the day. If you get a nudge or a sense that you're supposed to do or say something, don't second guess it to death - step out and act on it. (Well, do a quick check to make sure it lines up with God's word. If you feel "prompted" to do something that contradicts Scripture, then it's not from him!) But otherwise, trust that as you step forward in obedience, even if it feels risky, he will guide and provide.

And let's encourage one another in this. We're not meant to be bold all by ourselves. We need to challenge and cheer each other on. Let's spur one another on to love, serve and speak boldly in Jesus' name. Let's be a people who pray hard, love big, give generously, and proclaim the gospel fearlessly. A people whose bold, persistent witness points our desperately needy world to the goodness and greatness of our God.

Over twenty-two years ago my life changed dramatically when I ran a stop sign and caused someone’s death. It not only altered lives but also unveiled profound truths about faith. It’s about the undeniable need for openness and the transformative power of forgiveness, especially in the wake of grave mistakes and abuse. I couldn’t choose to keep my sin hidden, and I recognize how much different my life would have been if I would have been given the alternative: Hiding a major sin and trying to keep it hidden.

Openness: The First Step to Restoration

The road to restoration begins with a commitment to openness. James 5:16 compels us to confess our sins not just to God but to each other. This isn't merely about admission; it's about accountability. In cases of serious sin within our communities, such as abuse, the rush to 'forgive' and 'restore' often leads to a glossing over of the full truth. This not only undermines true repentance but also invalidates the deep hurt and damage caused.

The Danger of Superficial Restoration

I've seen how uncomfortable truths about a leader's failings can push a community towards a hasty, superficial form of restoration. This approach often serves more to alleviate the discomfort of the community than to address the real harm caused. It's a disservice to the perpetrator, the victims and the principles of our faith. Genuine restoration is impossible without a full, open acknowledgment of the wrongs committed. We need genuine involvement of third parties that will not favor the institution or one of the sides. There should be agreement from all sides about the best ways to bring things to light.

The Transformative Power of Forgiveness

Forgiveness, however, remains a cornerstone of our faith. Diminishing the wrong or erasing the past is not forgiveness. It’s a cover-up, an appeasement, a self-justification. True acknowledgement paves the way for a new future. Forgiveness is an act of releasing, not just for the one being forgiven but also for the one who forgives. It's a crucial step in the healing process – a step that demands a change in behavior, a commitment to do better, and a heart that seeks to mend what was broken.

Community’s Role in Restoration

Our church, our spiritual family, should be a sanctuary where we help each other stand back up. Galatians 6:2 speaks of bearing one another's burdens, but we can only bear what we fully acknowledge and understand. The community’s role is to facilitate a space where truth is unveiled, where victims are heard and validated, and where steps towards true restoration can be taken.

Living Our Repentance

For those of us who have faltered, especially in positions of leadership, living out our repentance is crucial. It might mean stepping down, seeking accountability, and finding ways to make amends. It’s a path marked by daily choices that reflect a heart changed by God’s grace and a desire to align with His will.

In reflecting on my own path, the openness about my worst moment was not just a tough necessity but a blessing in disguise. It forced me to confront my mistake, to face those I hurt, and to walk a path of genuine repentance. In our faith communities, let us not shy away from the hard truths. Let’s embrace both openness and forgiveness – not as separate acts, but as intertwined steps on our journey to healing and restoration. It’s about walking in truth, supporting each other in our failings, and striving together towards a future not defined by our past but by our courage to face it, own it, and transform it.

-John Troyer

Hey, Alexa, will you be my Shopper?

I am always in want.

Help me lie down on nice couches.

Turn on the sounds of still waters.

Medicate my soul.

She guides me in the paths of indebtedness 

for desire’s sake.

When I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,

I fear everything, for I am consumed.

The delivery truck and the brown box, they sooth me.

She prepares cheap food for my table 

and I am present with no one.

She anoints my eyes with seductive screens,

​My cup shrinks and I am empty.

Surely greed and debt will follow me all the days of my life,

And I will dwell in the hell of consuming forever.

Today's post is from Micael Grenholm, a self-described Jesus hippie from Sweden. He is active in an Anabaptist network there, and is passionate that the work of peace and justice should be done through the presence and miraculous power of the Holy Spirit.  You can learn more about him and read his blog at this link.

Evangelical blogger and author Rachel Held Evans is no longer evangelical; she has joined the Episcopalian church which, in the US, is not very theologically conservative but rather progressive or liberal. This isn’t very surprising since Evans has been very critical to evangelical theology as well as evangelical views on politics, women, the LGBT community etc.

In an interview that has been published in several media, including Sojourners, Evans names these progressive values along with sacramental church life as being the reason she joined Episcopalianism. She’s also asked to comment the fact that the Episcopalian church is rapidly losing church attendees, to which she responds:

Just about every denomination in the American church — including many evangelical denominations — is seeing a decline in numbers, so if it’s a competition, then we’re all losing, just at different rates… Lately I’ve been wondering if a little death and resurrection is exactly what the American church needs… A church might produce thousands of attendees without producing any disciples.

This is quite remarkable, since the point of one of Evans’ most famous articles on CNN’s Belief Blog is that evangelical churches must become more liberal to stop millenials from leaving them. This is a similar argument to John Shelby Spong‘s famous thesis that Christianity must change or die. A former bishop in Evans’ new church, Spong argued that this change includes stop believing in theism, stop beliving in the supernatural, stop believing that prayer is useful and stop believing in physical resurrection. Pretty ridiculous. Evans is far from this extreme, but her reasoning in the CNN article was similar: liberal Christianity is necessary for church growth.

I remember how provoked I was by Evans’ article when I first saw it in 2013, partly because I (unlike Evans) am a millenial and I have no interest in embracing liberal theology, but also because I know that liberal churches like the Episcopalian church in the US or the Lutheran church here in Sweden, are declining like crazy. To present liberal theology as the answer to evangelical decline is both non-biblical and non-empirical.

Since the day I was saved I’ve based my faith in Jesus on the New Testament. There I read that Christ is the only way to God, that He was born of a virgin, that He performed miracles, that He assigned His disciples to heal the sick in His Name, to preach the Gospel always, to love their enemies, to erdicate poverty and to embrace holiness, teaching that life is sacred, that men shouldn’t have sex with each other, that personal wealth is wrong and that God’s people shouldn’t adapt to the standards of this world but be renewed by the Holy Spirit.

Now, this crosses the traditional lines between left and right. Evans criticizes how evangelicals support war, economic inequality and a judging mentality, and rightly so. A conservative Christian like Chelsen Vicari criticizes how progressive Christians downplay doctrine and opens up for heresy, doubts the miraculous and decreases incentives for evangelism, and rightly so. Is it just me who thinks that Biblical Christianity reject the bad stuff in both of these camps while preserving the good?

Christianity is growing massively in the majority world (Africa, Asia and Latin America), especially Pentecostal and charismatic churches. Liberal theology is largely a Western middle-class phenomena and it has absolutely nothing to do with church growth. Yet, even many Pentecostal and charismatic churches are decreasing in the US – as Evans says, all denominations are losing at different rates. How come?

Well, church growth is not just dependent on what doctrine you have but also on whether you evangelize or not. In the Majority World, evangelism is very common both as organized church events as well as spontanious actions in the daily life of Christians. In the West, it is very uncommon that the whole church leaves (or sells) the building to go out and share the Gospel together, and this builds a culture where Western Christians do not evangelize as often as Christians in the Majority World. Or the Bible.

As I’ve argued in a previous post, I think all churches should go back to the Biblical Jerusalem church structure where everyone participated in daily evangelism. This of course presupposes that the church believes in the Gospel and that evangelism is necessary. For the evangelism to be effective, it should be confirmed by miracles (Acts 14:3) as well as expressed in both words and deeds (Rom 15:18-19). Thus, charismatic activism combined with daily evangelism is a Biblical recipy that Western churches really should try out.

This means that Conservatives should be more passionate about peace and justice, liberals should be more passionate about miracles and the Gospel, and everyone should be more passionate about daily evangelism. Yet, Evans words about making disciples rather than attendees should be remembered – church growth isn’t necessarily a sign of Biblical Christianity, as the Mormon movement tells us for example. Still, if a church leads no one to Christ, they’re doing something wrong. And it could be as simple as the fact that they aren’t telling strangers about Him.

-Micael Grenholm

What do we do when we have new patterns of living, of walking in the Spirit, of eating together, and of frequent worship in community? Today is Day 50 of Revive Indiana.  On Day 52 we will March Forth and we will move into yet another phase of life. For me, the last week has been a flurry of activity in itself and I am tired. When we have lived with this revival for 52 days, the new can become old.  But as God changes our lives, we wonder how these changes will carry forward as we return back to our old lives. Here are some ideas to make this transition:

1. Don't Go Back at All. Some of you may look at what it means to go back and realize that if you do go back, you will lose everything you gained. For you, it may be important to find a new job, a new place to live, or moving to a new community. Ask God what new thing He has for you and earnestly seek it. 

2. Go Halfway Back. If you are married, live honorably in your marriage vows. If you have minor children, be the parent God asks you to be. But even within these commitments, there is space to make changes as God invites you into new things. Perhaps you will make some radical shifts in your social life and hobbies.

3. Embed in a New Way. This may be the most difficult choice. We have all kinds of triggers around us that remind us how we used to be, and shame can shut us down and temptation can pull us back. But perhaps you can shift all the parts of your life to effectively live differently where you are.

No matter which direction God leads you, don't just go back. Don't go back to the old habits; binge watching, eating or drinking. At the core of all of these changes is a continued attentiveness to God and the Holy Spirit's guidance to have everyday encounters with people. Remember the joy that has been given you and continue to engage in activities that feed that joy. Intentional practices of prayer, worship, gathering with believers, and going out into the streets together will sustain and support your continued joy. 

We also need places to cross over and gather with believers from other churches. Last night we gathered with about 60 people from variety of ages and churches to have ice cream, worship, sharing, and games at Clinton Frame. We will continue to do that each Sunday at 5 with a continued welcome for everyone to attend. Perhaps there will be other ways these kinds of gathering will continue on a regular basis. Revive Indiana will have monthly gatherings in April and May with a week long outreach effort in June. Pastors will continue to meet every other week for fellowship and prayer. God has brought us great joy by bringing us together. Let's live in that joy.

-John M Troyer

On Saturday, Dennis Miller shared an analogy at breakfast that really made sense. If we want a burger and we head to Burger King to get one, we don't sit out underneath the sign and expect burgers to appear. We head inside because the sign is only pointing to something else. We often get caught up in the signs that signify the presence of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  Signs matter, they help guide us to our destination. Brands help us understand and name things. But they are not a destination.

I keep making signs my destination. It's so much easier to tell people about my church than it is to tell them about Jesus. It's so much easier to talk about Revive Indiana than to talk about Jesus.  I've been struck in the last few weeks at how focused God is on keeping undivided attention to Himself throughout the Bible.  The first few commandments from the 10 Commandments call us to give our undivided attention to the real presence of God. Don't substitute other gods, don't use His name carelessly, don't make images.  All of these, even the name of God itself, can begin to become a vain substitute. The living presence of Jesus and the indwelling of the Holy Spirit continue this movement toward only focusing on His presence.

Did your church change your life? Did Revive Indiana change your life? Did the person who witnessed to you change your life? Did your cultural background change your life? Did your country change your life? They might have helped you find your way, but they aren't the source of what really matters, our true freedom, what really deserves our praise and sole adoration. 

What is the secret? Pay attention. Not to signs, but to Jesus. Every revival begins because we pay attention to Jesus in a new way. Over time the forms and culture begin to build around the revival, and we to lose our focus. We wonder who's showing up? Who's not showing up? There's only one place that we need to show up: before Jesus. 

On my better days, there is a prayer that starts my day. It simply is "God, who and what do you have for me today?" And then I continue that prayer throughout the day, listening for what God has given me.  Freedom isn't free. It is given to us by God alone through the sacrifice of  Jesus Christ. Only He deserves the credit. Don't give credit to anything else. 

-John M Troyer