Category Archives: Christian Axiology

Aim for the Stars

Aim for the Stars and Faith Will Make You Hit Them

It is sad—borderline tragic—that even Christians have bought the lie to aim low. Most take the vision and desires God planted in their hearts, yank out a shotgun loaded with birdshot, and blast away at a target just beyond their own feet. And guess what? Without surprising anyone, they hit it. Then, to our astonishment, they start patting themselves on the back, congratulating themselves like they just won the Olympics. Most of the time they shoot so low that some of the pellets bounce off the ground and smack them right in the face. They call this “humble” and “suffering under the sovereign hand of God,” as if they accomplished something worth God’s time—or mine—to even notice.

Yet this is exactly the opposite picture Scripture paints. The Bible never spotlights a person who aimed for the dirt with birdshot and then high-fived themselves for a job well done. The Heroes of Faith in Hebrews 11 are the polar opposite. It puts a blinding spotlight on people who pointed their vision at the stars and watched faith rocket their arrow straight to Orion’s Belt. These weren’t cautious calculators; they were bold archers who refused to waste God’s ammunition on pebbles. And God loved it. He still does.

Take the Roman centurion for the masterclass. He was a Gentile outsider, not even under the contracts yet. In his context the ground was all he was supposed to aim for. Remember the Gentile woman? Jesus told her He was sent first to the lost sheep of Israel—it wasn’t her turn. But this centurion marched straight up to Jesus, looked Him dead in the eyes, and pulled his bow back to the moon. “My servant is sick and needs healing.” Jesus’ immediate reply? “You got it, bro—I’ll head to your house right now.” The man aimed for the sky, and faith slammed the arrow into the moon. Boom.

But wait—there’s more. The centurion could have stopped there like any normal person. Jesus had already said yes. Most would have grabbed the miracle and run hoping God wouldn’t change His mind. Not this guy. He looked Jesus in the face a second time, yanked the bowstring all the way to Centauri, and fired again: “Actually, Lord, don’t even bother walking—just speak the word right here, right now.” Imagine the nerve! In today’s church some faith-fumbler would have whispered, “Dude, you already got your miracle—don’t push it. Jesus might get annoyed.” Yeah, right. Jesus’ actual response? Astonishment. Public praise. “I haven’t seen faith like this in all Israel!” He didn’t scold the upgrade request—He celebrated it. The man aimed outside our solar system, and faith delivered. Jesus was all happiness and surprise, like a proud Father watching His kid dunk on the rim and then immediately ask for the NBA.

Put yourself in Jesus’ sandals for a second. Most people are drowning in unbelief. When someone finally scrapes together a thimble of faith, they still aim so low the arrow barely leaves the front yard. But this outsider Roman sized up Jesus, concluded He had absolute authority over reality itself, and instead of wasting time with self-debasing groveling, he asked for a miracle—and then upgraded the request on the spot. Jesus didn’t sigh and say, “Be satisfied.” He marveled. Publicly. Before the whole crowd. That is the God we serve.

The doctrine is as simple as it is explosive: the higher you aim, the more God likes it. Aim for Orion’s Belt and faith will get you there. The moment you land, God beams with delight if you immediately say, “Wait, wait—add Andromeda Galaxy in my other pocket too!” He doesn’t roll His eyes. He boasts about you the same way He boasted about the centurion. You can never aim too high or too often with faith. The only error is aiming too low and too infrequently.

This isn’t some prosperity gimmick; it’s the self-authenticating revelation of Scripture itself—our only starting point for knowledge. God’s Word is His will (Maxim 19). And His will, stated over and over, is that “all things are possible for the one who believes” (Mark 9:23). Not some things. Not safe things. All things. Jesus didn’t stutter when He said, “If you believe, you will receive whatever you ask for in prayer” (Matthew 21:22). He didn’t add footnotes about aiming low to stay humble. The footnotes are the inventions of men who have never tasted what real faith feels like when it leaves the bowstring.

How about David? Kid with a slingshot stares down a nine-foot giant who had the entire army wetting themselves. David didn’t aim for “maybe I won’t die today.” He aimed for the giant’s forehead and declared, “I come against you in the name of the Lord of Armies!” One stone, one shot, one dead Philistine, and the rest of the army routed. Faith took a shepherd boy’s pebble and turned it into a guided missile that hit the Keyhole Nebula.

Even the woman with the issue of blood aimed high. Twelve years of doctors, twelve years of worse. As a child of Abraham she tried to pay for healing that was freely promised in the contract; and the result was poverty.  Society said stay home and bleed quietly. She said, “If I can just touch the hem of His garment…” She crawled through a crowd that could have stoned her for uncleanness, stretched out her hand, and grabbed healing that wasn’t even on the menu that day. Jesus stopped the whole parade: “Daughter, your faith has healed you.” He called her out publicly so everyone would know—high aim plus relentless faith equals miracles on demand.

This is why Jesus commands us to ask in His name and expect greater works (John 14:12-14). Greater. Not equal, not smaller—greater. The resurrected, enthroned Christ has identified us with Himself so completely that when we speak in faith, reality hears the voice of the Son. That’s not arrogance; that’s agreement with God’s definition of us. We are co-heirs. We are seated with Him. We are the righteousness of God in Christ. Why would we aim at our feet when the throne room is wide open and the King is saying, “What do you want? Ask big—I already paid for it”?

The faithless love to slap a “God’s timing” or “humility” label on their low aim. They call it wisdom. Scripture calls it unbelief, dressed up stupid. The Israelites limited the Holy One of Israel (Exodus 13-14) by their evil report. They could have aimed for the Promised Land in one generation, in one day. Instead they wandered forty years because they aimed at the dirt, and God hated them for it. Don’t repeat their mistake. God is still the same yesterday, today, and forever. His promises are still “yes” in Christ. The only variable is faith and aiming high.

So what will you aim for today? Cancer, diabetes? Aim higher—total eradication, and the healing of your whole family, and a testimony that shakes your city. Debt? Aim higher—supernatural debt cancellation that funds you with 5 houses, and the gospel with 500 houses. Loneliness? Aim higher—a spouse of your dreams and a household that multiplies the kingdom on steroids. Here is the big secret the faithless keeps from you. The dirt is not a starting line, it is the opening to the pits of hell. The stars are not the limit; they’re the true starting line for faith. Yes, Faith will make you hit them, then immediately reload for the next galaxy.

You were born from above, and so you were born for this. You carry the same Spirit that raised Jesus. You have the mind of Christ and the name that makes demons scream and mountains move. Stop aiming for your front yard. Load the bow with the promises of God, pull it back to the stars, and let faith fly. God is not rolling His eyes—He’s already leaning forward with a grin, ready to boast about you the same way He boasted about that Roman outsider.

Aim high. Fire often. Jesus already said all things are possible for the one who believes. The stars are waiting—and God is cheering louder than you can imagine.

The stars never looked so good, nor so close.

The Money Pipeline Jesus Established

God is not merely “concerned” for our prosperity—He is passionately invested in it, as an unbreakable part of His covenant love and the finished gospel of Jesus Christ. One dynamic way He releases this real-world increase into our lives is through the obedient faith of giving tithes and offerings. It’s not some legalistic burden or man trying to earn points with God; no, it’s you taking what He has already supplied and sowing it back into the kingdom flow, confident that the Great Giver will multiply it beyond measure.

Jesus said it straight: “Give, and it will be given to you. Good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap. For with the measure you use it will be measured back to you” (Luke 6:38 ESV). That’s not poetry for the poor in spirit—it’s your financial reality in the New Covenant. He who was rich became poor for your sake, so that you through His poverty might become rich (2 Corinthians 8:9). And for those who prioritize the gospel, forsaking all, He promises “a hundred times as much now in the present age”—houses, family, lands—along with eternal life (Mark 10:29-30). This is God stepping up as your ultimate Paycheck, your faithful Breadwinner, ensuring His desire to see you prosper and be in health, even as your soul prospers (3 John 1:2).

You give back to God what He first gave you, in tithes and offerings, and He responds with that 100-fold return, opening the windows of heaven and pouring out blessing until there’s no room to receive it (Malachi 3:10). Second Corinthians 9 hammers it home: “Whoever sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and whoever sows bountifully will also reap bountifully… And God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that having all sufficiency in all things at all times, you may abound in every good work.” He enriches you in everything for generosity that glorifies Him. It’s His clever, sovereign way to lock in the prosperity He swore to Abraham’s seed—us included—and keep the blessings circulating like a river of abundance.

Here’s where the rubber meets the road, and the flesh gets exposed: To admonish ministers who boldly teach on giving, or attack them for receiving offerings—particularly if you’ve been blessed, healed, or empowered by their ministry—is to directly assault Jesus’ prosperity doctrine itself. It’s fleshly thinking at its sneakiest, like biting the hand that feeds you or unplugging the hose while the water of increase is flowing into your yard. If their words stirred faith, cast out doubt, or released miracles in your life, then griping about “why do they talk about is money” is you sawing off the very branch of blessing God is using to prosper you. You’re removing one of the direct pipelines Jesus established for multiplying your wealth and advancing His kingdom through faithful stewards.

Stop playing games with the Giver’s economy. The gospel is God showing off His lavish supply, not us scraping to impress Him. Give cheerfully, from a heart overflowing with gratitude and faith—not under compulsion. Expect the return to crash in like a tidal wave: pressed down, shaken, overflowing. God isn’t running a tight budget; He’s the Sovereign Provider who delights in making His children walk in surplus to silence the scoffer and fund the Great Commission.

Rise up today in this truth. Tithe faithfully, offer generously, and thank God for the 100-fold harvest over your life in Jesus’ name. Your prosperity isn’t a maybe—it’s a locked-in promise activated by faith. Let’s flood the earth with this reality and watch God boast about His faithful ones. Think about it. If you do what Jesus says by faith, and Jesus makes you prosperous in return, He will turn around and boast about you. He will boast about you being wealthy, because you did it by faith in Him. You get wealth and receive God’s praises, and God’s kingdom gets expanded and His name glorified. It’s a win a win, and yet the faith-fumblers want to complain about it. Excommunicate them from your life.

Now, let’s slow down and let the weight of these truths settle in your spirit the way fresh bread settles in an empty stomach—satisfying, strengthening, and making you ready for the day. When God declares His passionate investment in your prosperity, He is not whispering some optional side-note to the gospel; He is shouting from the finished work of the cross. Jesus did not leave heaven’s riches and become poor so that we could stay broke while pretending spirituality. No, He swapped places with us so that the same abundance that marked His pre-incarnate glory could mark our lives today. The logic is airtight: if the curse included lack and the cross removed the curse, then lack has no legal right to remain in the life of a believer who stands in faith.

Look again at Luke 6:38. Jesus is addressing disciples who have left everything to follow Him. He is not offering vague spiritual encouragement; He is giving a financial operating system for the kingdom age. The measure you use—whether stingy drops or generous buckets—sets the size of the return. God honors the faith behind the gift, not the amount alone. That is why the widow’s two mites outshone the rich men’s large sums. Faith, not figure, moves heaven.

And 2 Corinthians 8:9 is no isolated proof-text. Paul writes it in the middle of chapters devoted entirely to cheerful, abundant giving for the relief of the saints. He’s talking about that dirty money stuff. The context screams material provision. As Andrew Wommack says, “Text without context, is a con.” The context is money. Jesus became poor—literally stripped naked, penniless, buried in a borrowed tomb—so that you might become rich in every sense the word carries in the New Testament: financial riches included. When flesh tries to spiritualize that away, it is rejecting the gospel of Jesus Christ.

It is a strange deception, but the faithless use idea of a “spiritual” from a human or fleshly starting point, and not defined by the scripture. This is why it deceives so many. Faithless people prefer definitions based on the flesh, rather than the word. To say Jesus’ poetry and our riches were spiritual, is a fleshly and carnal reading of this passage. They are “spiritual perverts” and so it is natural for them to f@#k up terms like spiritual, and then pervert its meaning.

Mark 10:29-30 takes it further. Jesus does not say “maybe later in heaven” or “only spiritual houses and lands.” He says “now in this present age.” One hundredfold now. That is not a promise reserved for apostles; it is spoken to every disciple who leaves houses, family, or lands for the gospel’s sake. The same Jesus who multiplied fish and bread is still multiplying resources for those who put the kingdom first.

Third John 2 ties the bow: beloved, I pray that you may prosper in all things and be in health, just as your soul prospers. John, the apostle of love, does not separate spiritual health from material blessing. When the soul feeds on the Word and faith rises, the outer life is invited to match it. God’s will is not divided; it is whole. It is carnal thinking and human observation that likes to divides the things that God has put together as one, whether it is marriage or the gospel.

Malachi 3:10 still roars under the New Covenant because the principle of firstfruits and honoring God with substance never expired. Jesus Himself affirmed tithing in Matthew 23:23 while rebuking the Pharisees for neglecting justice and mercy. The windows of heaven are not closed; they are waiting for the faith that opens them. When you bring the tithe, God rebukes the devourer and pours out blessing until there is no room to receive it. Room—literal, physical, wallet-stretching room.

Second Corinthians 9 builds the case like a master builder. Sow sparingly, reap sparingly. Sow bountifully, reap bountifully. Then comes the clincher: God is able to make all grace abound toward you. All grace—not just spiritual, but the grace that includes financial sufficiency so you can abound to every good work. He enriches you for the very purpose of generosity. This is not a prosperity scheme invented by men; this is divine strategy to keep the river flowing from heaven to earth and back again.

The Abrahamic covenant seals it. Galatians 3:13-14 and 3:29 declare that Christ redeemed us from the curse so that the blessing of Abraham might come upon us. What was that blessing? Cattle, silver, gold, favor with kings, supernatural increase. If you belong to Christ, you are Abraham’s seed and an heir according to the promise. The power to get wealth is still part of the package (Deuteronomy 8:18), now ensured by the blood of the Contract and the honor of Jesus’s Name.

Attacking the teaching on giving is attacking the pipeline Jesus installed. You cannot disconnect the hose and still expect the water to reach your yard. The same faith that receives healing receives provision. Scripture makes no division. To criticize the offering while enjoying the blessing is to saw off the branch you are sitting on—then blame the tree for falling.

The gospel is not a poverty program with occasional miracles; it is God showing off His lavish supply. Stop the games. Give cheerfully. Laugh in the devil’s face while you write the check, because you know the return is already en route. Expect the tidal wave. God is not clutching a tight budget spreadsheet in heaven; He owns the cattle on a thousand hills and the gold in every mine. He delights in surplus for His kids—enough to silence every scoffer and bankroll the Great Commission until every tribe has heard.

So rise up. Tithe like it is the most natural thing in the world, because in the kingdom it is. Offer beyond the tithe with joy. Decree the hundredfold harvest over your finances, your business, your family, your future. Speak it out loud: “By faith I receive the pressed-down, shaken-together, running-over return in Jesus’ name.” Your prosperity is not a maybe; it is a locked-in, blood-bought promise activated the moment faith takes the wheel.

And here is the beautiful part that makes heaven cheer and hell panic: when you obey by faith, Jesus turns around and boasts about you to the Father. He points to your life and says, “Look at My child—walking in the wealth I provided because they trusted Me.” You get the wealth, God gets the glory, the kingdom advances, and scoffers are silenced. Win after win after win.

The flesh may squirm and the critics may complain, but the river keeps flowing for those who refuse to unplug the pipeline.

Jesus the Healing Hero – IS the Gospel

Right from the opening pages of the Bible, God doesn’t ease in with pleasantries. He drops the declaration of war and victory in the same breath. After the fall, He turns to the serpent and says, “I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and hers; he will crush your head, and you will strike his heel” (Genesis 3:15). Think about that for a second. Before Adam and Eve even finish sewing their fig leaves, God is already pointing to Jesus—the promised Seed—and saying, “This Hero is coming to end you.” Satan gets a bruised heel. Jesus gets total conquest. That’s the opening scene of the whole story. The protoevangelium is not some poetic footnote; it is the explosive launch sequence of redemptive history, the first unmistakable shout that the Seed of the woman would march straight into the fight and settle the score once and for all.

Satan didn’t charge in like some obvious monster. The coward used lies. “Did God really say?” he whispered, and the doubt took root (Genesis 3:1). They ate, and God kept His word exactly as He said He would. The curse hit creation hard—thorns, pain, death, the whole mess (Genesis 3:16-19). And from that day forward the devil has exploited it nonstop, hammering people with his favorite dirty weapon: sickness. It’s how he oppresses, how he victimizes, how he keeps humans under his thumb. Sickness isn’t neutral. It’s bad. Straight-up evil. Let’s be real—Scripture never once calls disease a helpful life coach or a mysterious divine favor. Jesus looked at that woman bent double for eighteen years and named the culprit outright: “Satan has kept her bound” (Luke 13:16). John 10:10 draws the battle line with zero ambiguity: the thief steals, kills, and destroys; Jesus brings life to the full. The fingerprints don’t lie.

That’s why when Peter stands up for the very first official gospel sermon to Gentiles in Acts 10, he doesn’t start with abstract theology. As Vincent Cheung points out in “The Dividing Line,” Peter tells the classic hero-versus-villain story God loves telling. “God anointed Jesus of Nazareth with the Holy Spirit and power, and how he went about doing good and healing all who were oppressed by the devil, for God was with him” (Acts 10:38). Satan is the bad guy. Sickness is his bad tool. Jesus the Hero shows up anointed with power and starts setting people free from it—one healing after another. God is perfectly happy framing the good news this way. No need to complicate it. The simple showdown works just fine. Peter could have opened with justification by faith or the doctrine of election—glorious truths, no argument there—but the Spirit led him to lead with power and healing, because that is how the gospel first detonated into the Gentile world. Goodness and healing are welded together in the same sentence. Oppression and the devil are welded together in the same sentence. The Bible refuses to separate them, and frankly, neither should we.

Peace comes through violence and conquest, not some polite negotiation. The Son of God appeared for this very reason—to destroy the works of the devil (1 John 3:8). He didn’t just rescue us from the judgment we deserved; He yanked us out of the original villain’s grip too. Forgiveness? Yes. But also tangible freedom right now. Notice Satan’s go-to weapon is always sickness. That’s bad. Healing is good. Jesus healing every single person oppressed by the devil is the Bible’s hero story preached at the launch of Gentile ministry. Matthew 8:16-17 makes the connection unmistakable: “He drove out the spirits with a word and healed all the sick. This was to fulfill what was spoken through the prophet Isaiah: ‘He took up our infirmities and bore our diseases.’” The cross wasn’t only about sin. The same atoning work that substituted guilt for righteousness, substituted sickness for healing. Isaiah 53:4-5 and 1 Peter 2:24 stand shoulder to shoulder—by His wounds you have been healed. The Greek tenses shout finished reality. Not “maybe someday.” Not “if it’s God’s will in some vague sense.” Healed. Period.

Picture the devil showing up at the cross like a landlord waving an overdue rent notice marked “sickness stays forever,” and Jesus just rips the contract in half, spikes it to the wood with the nails, and laughs out loud while every demon in the vicinity does the fastest tactical retreat in history. The same Spirit and power that rested on Him to destroy oppression now rests on us. Stop playing victim to a defeated snake. You’re seated with the Hero who crushed his head (Romans 16:20). The devil is not your personal trainer. He is a conquered foe whose only remaining strategy is to convince you the fight is still fair. It isn’t—come on, the head is already crushed.

The faithless try to muddy the water with their “maybe God is using sickness to teach you” nonsense. That’s like cheering for the villain in the movie because it “builds character.” Dumb. Jesus already bore our sicknesses and carried our pains so we wouldn’t have to. By His stripes we are healed. It’s like the devil is still trying to collect rent on a house Jesus already foreclosed on, burned to the ground, and turned into a victory bonfire while the angels roasted marshmallows over the flames. The same Spirit and power that rested on Him to destroy oppression now rests on us. Stop playing victim to a defeated snake. You’re seated with the Hero who crushed his head (Romans 16:20).

Command that sickness to leave in Jesus’ name. Lay hands on the sick and expect recovery (Mark 16:17-18). Believe like the victory is already yours—because it is. The gospel is still advancing through power, healing, and authority in Christ. Live it out loud. The Hero won the war. Now go enforce the victory.

Let me press this a little deeper, because the stakes are eternal. When Jesus sent out the Twelve and then the Seventy-two, He gave them authority over all the power of the enemy and told them to heal the sick (Luke 9:1-2; 10:9). That commission did not expire at the end of the first century. The same Jesus who walked the shores of Galilee is the same yesterday, today, and forever (Hebrews 13:8). The same Spirit who raised Him from the dead lives in every believer (Romans 8:11). If sickness were somehow God’s loving tool, then Jesus would have been working against the Father every time He healed someone. That is theological insanity. The Father anointed the Son precisely to destroy what the devil had built. Every miracle was a preview of the age to come crashing into the present. Every healing was a declaration: the kingdom is here, the curse is broken, the Hero has arrived.

When Christians remain in sickness, besetting sins, broken relationships and poverty, it is Satan’s middle finger at God shouting, that Jesus’ kingdom is not here and the curse is not broken and the Hero did not arrive.

Some will object that not everyone gets healed instantly. Fair observation, however, because it is based on observation it is logically irrelevant for knoweldge. Notice what Jesus never did: He never blamed the Father for the delay. He never told the sick to embrace their condition as a gift. He blamed unbelief when it blocked the flow (Mark 6:5-6), and He trained His disciples to keep pressing until faith rose. Paul left Trophimus sick, not because sickness was God’s will, but because the apostolic team was on mission and timing mattered (2 Timothy 4:20). Yet the same Paul commanded the church at Corinth to examine itself so they would not be weak or sick (1 Corinthians 11:29-30). Sickness was the exception to be judged and removed, not the rule to be celebrated. The New Testament pattern is relentless: preach the gospel, heal the sick, cast out demons, raise the dead. That is not optional flavor. That is the normal Christian life.

Think about the woman with the issue of blood. She had suffered for twelve years, spent everything on doctors, and grew worse (Mark 5:25-26). The doctors could not help because the real oppressor was not a germ or a hormone—it was the kingdom of darkness. She touched the hem of Jesus’ garment and was healed instantly. Jesus called her “daughter” and sent her away in peace. That is the gospel in miniature. The Hero sees the victim, feels compassion, and ends the oppression on the spot. He is still doing it. The same power that flowed through His robe now flows through His body on earth—you and me. The same power that raised Jesus from the dead and put Him above all names, times and places is the same power the works in us who believe (Eph 1:19-21).

So grab your spiritual eviction notice, look that defeated snake square in the eye, and say, “Not today, not tomorrow, not ever again—your lease was canceled at Calvary, and the new Landlord is moving in with healing, power, and zero tolerance for your sh@t.” The gospel is not a theory to be debated in seminaries. It is power to be demonstrated in streets, homes, and everywhere. Peter preached it that way to Cornelius’ house, and the Holy Spirit fell while he was still speaking (Acts 10:44). The same thing can happen when you open your mouth with the same message.

The devil has had two thousand years to refine his lies, but the Hero has already crushed his head, and God’s truth is indomitable. The blood still speaks. The name still works. The Spirit still moves. Sickness is still bad. Healing is still good. And Jesus the Healing Hero is still the gospel.

 Watch the kingdom advance exactly as it did in the book of Acts. The victory is already yours. Now go enforce it with joy, with boldness, and with the full expectation that the same HERO who healed all who were oppressed by the devil, is now sitting at the Power’s right hand, doing it through you.

The God of Peace Will Crush

Ah, the God of peace—sounds like a serene deity lounging on clouds, doesn’t it? But flip open your Bible, and you’ll see He’s more like a divine general, marching into battle with a strategy that leaves enemies flattened. Romans 16:20 declares our thesis statement plainly: “The God of peace will crush Satan under your feet shortly. The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you. Amen.” Notice it was not under God’s feet, but your feet. When Satan eyes meet yours, it should be when he is crushed under your feet. This is the only correct position for Satan to meet your gaze.  

Jesus Himself chimes in from John 16:33: “These things I have spoken to you, that in Me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation; but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world.” This isn’t some fluffy, feel-good tranquility; it’s peace forged in victory, the kind that comes when God stomps out what’s troubling you. If your idea of peace is just a balanced brain chemistry or a quiet afternoon without the kids yelling, you’re missing the biblical punch. God’s peace is intellectual and material—your mind aligns with His unbreakable promises, stabilizing your whole being, and then reality bends to match, with enemies crushed underfoot. Peace comes through war, blood and triumph.

Let’s unpack this. The Bible hammers home that true peace arrives through conquest, destruction of foes, or flipping former adversaries into allies. You don’t get heart-peace by ignoring the chaos; you get it because God removes the chaos-causer, by destroying it. The enemy isn’t politely asked to leave—he’s demolished. Joshua 21:43-45 spells it out: God handed Israel the promised land, giving them “rest on every side” after delivering enemies into their hands. No foe stood against them because God fulfilled every promise. Rest? Peace? It came post-victory, after the dust settled from crushed opposition. Or take 2 Samuel 7:1: Once David was palace-settled, “the Lord gave him rest from all his enemies around him.” God’s provision of peace followed conquest, not some mystical inner glow detached from reality.

Then there’s 1 Chronicles 22:9, where God promises David a son of peace: “I will give him rest from all his enemies on every side.” Solomon’s reign would embody this—peace through subdued threats. Even Proverbs 16:7 adds a twist: “When a man’s ways please the Lord, he makes even his enemies to be at peace with him.” God doesn’t just crush; sometimes He recalibrates relationships, turning rivals into reluctant allies. But make no mistake, it’s His sovereign hand at work, not some human diplomacy. This isn’t a chemical brain balance or anti-intellectual fuzziness. No, God’s peace is rooted in logic and substance: your mind assents to His truths and promises, renewing your propositional framework to be stable and healthy. That’s why Philippians 4:7 calls it “the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding”—not because it’s beyond intellect, but because His promises blanket every life scenario. You might not eyeball the “how” in a tough spot, but faith knows He’ll deliver peace. It will happen.

Jesus embodies this perfectly. He overcame the world, so we cheer amid tribulation. Think Jericho: marching and trumpeting wasn’t busywork; it was praise rooted in promise. God vowed victory, so those walls were toast before the first lap. They praised pre-fall because faith treats God’s word as done deal. God crushed those walls under their feet, bringing peace. Paul’s line in Romans labels God “of peace” precisely because He’ll “soon crush Satan under their feet.” Not in some distant heaven, but here, now. Heaven will be a place of peace, because all enemies will be crushed. Crushing enemies “is” the act of peace-bringing. Jesus nailed this at the cross, pulverizing sickness, poverty, curses—the lot. It’s done. Isaiah 54:17 echoes: “No weapon formed against you will prosper.” Weapons form—tribulations like demons, illness, lack—but cheer up! Jesus defeated them; by faith, they’re soon underfoot.

Don’t get me wrong; this peace starts intellectual, in the mind’s assent to God’s guarantee, but it spills into flesh and circumstance. We praise pre-victory, as with Jericho, because faith’s useless post-fact. It’s for the “before,” fueling praise that knows enemies will crumble, yielding total peace. Peace without crushed foes? That’s non-biblical bunk, a counterfeit calm that leaves Satan smirking.

Dig deeper into Scripture, and this crushes any watered-down view. Isaiah 45:7 has God declaring, “I form light and create darkness; I make peace and create evil; I am Yahweh; I do all these things.” Peace isn’t accidental—God authors it, often through calibrated calamity for the reprobate and triumph for His elect. No weapon prospers against you, but they do form. The promise is simple. With faith the weapons will be ineffective against you. God did not send those people to attack you, and so you are free to condemn them in the name of Jesus and crush them under your feet.  For reprobates, even sunshine fattens them for slaughter (Psalm 73). But for us, temporary trials and forged weapons against us, yield an opportunity for easy game XP for our level ups.

Look at Colossians 1:19-20: “For in Him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through Him to reconcile all things to Himself, having made peace through the blood of His cross.” Peace via bloodied conquest—Jesus reconciling by demolishing sin’s divide. Or Romans 5:1: “Therefore, since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ.” Justification swaps enmity for alliance, but it’s God’s doing, not our charm.

And Isaiah 53? Brutal beauty: “He was wounded for our transgressions, He was crushed for our iniquities; the chastisement for our peace was upon Him, and by His stripes we are healed.” Chastisement for our peace—Jesus bore the bloody atonement so we carry calm. He says, “My peace I give you” (John 14:27), not some generic vibe, but His substitutionary shalom. Leviticus’ scapegoat “carried away” our sins; same word in Isaiah for Jesus bearing sickness. He was led outside the camp as our diseased substitute, so we don’t carry illness or turmoil, because He carried on Himself so that we don’t. That is what the idea of a substitution means. If you carry the same sickness Jesus carried, then there was no substitution. Peace in soul, body, life—it’s contractual, sealed in blood, already carried away to the grave by Jesus’ substitution.

Hebrews 4 ties peace to approaching God’s throne: redeemed, we boldly ask and receive help. No spiritualizing—it’s literal receipt. Jesus contrasts pagan prayer myths. When the pagans pray they mainly give to their gods, and when they do ask, it is done without much hope, even with trepidation, knowing the request could be used against them. Jesus’ prayer doctrine contradicts this. God gives us a fish for fish, a miracle for a miracle, a child of a child, prosperity for prosperity, a spouse for a spouse and Spirit for Spirit (Matthew 7:7-11). If evil humans give good gifts, how much more our Father? Our Good Father gives us the things we ask for; anything less is demon dogmatics.

This crushes defective ethics peddling unbelief. Faith-fumblers teach God’s stingy or sickness teaches lessons—nonsense! Experience as a teacher is the worst type of teacher. For us, revelation’s our sole teacher of knowledge. Sickness comes from Satan not God. Therefore, destroy it in Jesus’ name, advancing His kingdom. If you are doing something to give a foothold, correct your behavior. To let Satan’s attacks linger glorifies hell, not God. Mindset matters: the atonement is finished and the benefits already deposited into your account by grace. Faith sees them, withdraws at will. Forgiveness, healing, prosperity are not begged, but claimed in faith. The natural man, using the five senses, cannot receive the things of the Spirit, who reveals to us all the good things God has freely deposited to our accounts.

Cheer up! Praise God before the crushing, knowing God’s promises are guaranteed. Peace starts in faith-filled minds, and manifests in crushed foes. Biblical peace is where God’s crushes Satan shortly under your feet. Notice it was not under God’s feet, but your feet. When Satan eyes meet yours, it should be when he is crushed under your feet. This is the only correct position for Satan to meet your gaze.  If doubters peddle less, get them out of your life. For us? We assent, crush, receive and advance. All things possible when you believe—mountains move, enemies flatten. That’s God’s type of peace: conquest, not compromise.

What You Will

John 15:7 packs a divine punch: “If you abide in me, and my words abide in you, ask whatever you will, and it shall be done for you.” The main point here is simple, yet it slices through centuries of theological fog like a hot knife through butter. When men scream, “if God wills,” regarding answers to prayer, Jesus—or God, that is—screams the contradiction to this. Jesus says, ask whatever “you will,” and it will be done. When men focus on God’s will, Jesus focuses on our will. This is the Jesus we pray to. He is asking for your will, and He will do it. This is why the “if it is God’s will” focus is a scam. The faith and prayer dogma Jesus taught was about man’s will, not God’s. He said, “What do you want me to do for you?” Yet, the faithless focus on the contradiction to Jesus’ teaching by saying, “What can we do for God?” Jesus’ gospel gives to us; we do not give to Him. This is why His focus is on our will—because from the Garden to Abraham to the gospel being finished, it forces a worldview where God is the one who gives to us and not us to Him. In a world where the gospel has already been accomplished—in a reality where God gives to man, not man to God—Jesus says, “What is your will? Tell Me about it, and I will do it.”

Contrast this with the timid traditions that twist prayer into a guessing game, hedging every request with “if it be Thy will,” as if God were some cosmic bureaucrat withholding stamps of approval. Jesus flips that script entirely—He spotlights the believer’s desire, not divine reluctance. Blind Bartimaeus didn’t mumble about sovereignty; he shouted his will for sight, and Jesus asked, “What do you want me to do for you?” (Mark 10:51). The faithless flip it to “What can we do for God?”—a pious dodge that ignores the gospel’s core: God lavishes on us, from Eden’s abundance where He strolled as Provider, to Abraham’s blockbuster covenant of stars and land (Genesis 15:1-6), sealed in blood as an unbreakable yes through Christ (2 Corinthians 1:20). Abraham didn’t earn it by groveling; he believed God’s giving nature, and it was credited as righteousness. The cross finishes this: Jesus absorbs our curse so we inherit the goodies (Galatians 3:13-14). Yet the doubters peddle a scam, fixating on “God’s mysterious will” like it’s a shield for unbelief, denying the Spirit’s miracles and baptism as outdated relics.

The faithless build walls of “what if,” fearing to impose on God, while Jesus urges imposition: “Whatever you ask in my name, I will do it” (John 14:13-14). Their worldview starves on self-serving scraps; ours feasts on Abraham’s excess, where God swears by Himself to overflow us with favor, healing, and fruitfulness.

Jesus’ gospel is one-directional: It is God giving to us, not us giving to Him. From the very first moment in the Garden, God is the sole Giver—walking with Adam, freely bestowing paradise, life, dominion, and fellowship without Adam contributing anything. When that original giving was lost, God immediately promised a coming Seed who would crush the serpent and restore.

Centuries later, He appeared to Abraham and unilaterally swore by His own name to give him land, innumerable descendants, blessing, fame, and an everlasting covenant—Abraham’s only role was to believe and receive. God gave to Abraham the blessing; the only thing Abraham gave was the faith to receive. And even in the testing, when God asked Abraham to give up his only son, it was an illustration that God was not finished giving, because He was going to provide and give His only Son for man. Even the test was a point about God giving to man and not man to God. God gave to Abraham an exceedingly great reward and then made a point to say, “I’m not done giving; I will be giving my only Son as well.” The only thing Abraham gave, was agreeing with God that God will be faithful to give all the good things He promised.

On this topic, King David has this question: What should I do to repay God? His response was to renew his vows and to take up the cup of salvation. The cup of salvation is all about God delivering and blessing David. So even on the direct topic about what David can give God, it was mostly about agreeing and praising God that He is the one who gives good things to David, not David giving to God.

Every subsequent covenant, every prophetic promise, every miracle, and finally the finished work of the cross and resurrection maintain the same unbreakable pattern: God is the Giver, man is the receiver. The atonement does not end with Jesus taking our sin; it climaxes with Him imparting His righteousness, His healing, His peace, His Spirit, His authority, and His inheritance to us. This sweeping redemptive history forces a non-negotiable worldview: God is always the fountain, and we are always the open hands.

Jesus, being consistent with this worldview God established, does not ask us what we can offer Him; He asks us what we desire so that He may give it. “What do you want Me to do for you?” is not a polite formality—it is the natural, inevitable question that flows from a finished gospel that gives to us, not us to God. When He says “ask whatever you will,” He is continuing the same unstoppable worldview: God gives, man receives. In this world where God has already given in the gospel, Jesus asks us what we want, what is our will, and He will do it. He invites us to name what we want Him to give next. God isn’t running a cosmic tit-for-tat; He’s handing out inheritance to heirs who believe and ask. When God focuses on your will, He’s being faithful to His worldview that His nature and promise established from Eden to Jesus’ finished atonement.

What is your will? Abide in Him and tell God about it. God wants to bless your will.

Keeping Your Love For Jesus White Hot

Jesus had this against the church in Ephesus: they had walked away from God as their first love. He approved their hatred for the evil deeds and false doctrines committed by others, but in their testing, exposing, and hatred( all things Jesus himself endorsed) they had stopped doing the most important positive action, which is loving God. It’s a sobering reminder, isn’t it? You can be doctrinally sharp, spotting false teachers like a hawk spots a mouse, yet if your heart grows cold toward the One who first loved you, you’re making a fatal error. Revelation 2:4 puts it bluntly: “Yet I hold this against you: You have forsaken the love you had at first.” Jesus doesn’t mince words here. He calls them to repent and return to the works they did at the beginning, or risk having their lampstand removed. That’s church-speak for “lights out,” and I will move on to those who will love Me.

The question revolves around how Jesus wanted them to correct their behavior to receive and give God’s love. It does involve some speculation, but not much, to extrapolate from the book of Ephesians and the book of Acts the specific things God told the Ephesian church. Ephesus was an important hub for the early church because Paul stayed and taught in a public school for two years. This would make it a hub of educated Christians. Thus, it makes sense for Jesus in Revelation to say they were good at doctrine and good at exposing false teachers. But Paul did more than just educate them. He had his usual miracle ministry of healing, casting out demons, and leading people to be baptized in the Spirit. In addition to all that, Acts 19:11-12 says that God performed “special” or “extraordinary” miracles through the Apostle Paul in Ephesus. These miracles were so unusual that handkerchiefs or aprons that had touched Paul’s skin were carried to the sick, resulting in healings and the departure of evil spirits. Think about it—miracles so potent they worked via second-hand contact. That’s not your average Sunday service; that’s Jesus blasting his followers in the power of the Spirit to tear down the gates of hell and expand His Father’s kingdom

Even before I start to conclude, some readers should already pick up where this is going. In the book to Ephesus, Paul quickly flies by doctrines of the atonement, resurrection, predestination, and election, likely because they were already well educated in these things. But there are two important highlights in this letter. One is in chapter 3 where Paul focuses on how, through the Spirit and knowing God’s love, the inner man is strengthened. Paul did not say it was hours of education that did this, but the Spirit and receiving how much God loves you that makes your inner man strong. Obviously, you need right teaching to know about God’s love, but the focus is not broadly about Christian teaching, but the power of the Spirit to help you believe how much God loves you. This is interesting because Jesus’ accusation against them is about them not loving God as they ought, when Paul is making a special plea to them to strengthen their inner man by receiving God’s love for them. Ephesians 3:16-19 spells it out: “I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.”

This is the first part of what it means for the Ephesians to love God. They will love God when they are properly receiving how much God loves them, in the power of the Holy Spirit. The focus is not how much they love God, but how much God loves them. The conclusion Paul gives for a person strengthened by the Spirit with God’s love is that they ask God to give them things, and God gives them exceedingly, abundantly, beyond all they think or ask. Thus, Paul’s test of orthodoxy for a person who is properly receiving God’s love is someone who is praying for God to give them stuff, and God is going overboard in supplying their request. Think of all the baskets left over from the feeding of the 5,000 and 4,000. If you want to know that you haven’t stopped loving God, then the proof is that you ask and receive big from God because the Spirit has made your inner man strong by knowing how much God loves you. It’s almost comical how straightforward this is—God loves you so much He wants to spoil you rotten with answers to prayer. Not because you’re earning it, but because His love is that extravagant. If your prayer life is drier than a desert, it might be time to check if you’re really soaking in His love or if you have it backwards and are focused on giving to God. The point is about His love to you, not your love to Him. The way you love God more, is receiving how much He loves you.

The second interesting focus in Paul’s letter was about putting on God’s armor and weapons and being strengthened in God’s power. Paul ends the letter by saying, “Finally my brethren, be strong in the Lord and in the power of His might.” To say “finally” indicates something Paul felt was important or even the number one reason why he might have written the letter to them. It was not about more studying or education but about raw, explosive “power.” Remember, Paul’s time with the Ephesians was a time with great miracle power and the baptism of the Spirit. In fact, in Acts 19, the whole section starts off with Paul walking into Ephesus, finding believers, and the very first thing he says is, “Have you received the Spirit?” The first thing he asks is not about Jesus Christ, but about the baptism of the Spirit for power. Think about that carefully. I dare say even most Pentecostals do not show this level of importance on the Baptism of the Spirit as Paul was showing here. Acts 19:5-6 records: “On hearing this, they were baptized in the name of the Lord Jesus. When Paul placed his hands on them, the Holy Spirit came on them, and they spoke in tongues and prophesied.”

Paul helps them receive the Spirit for power, and they pray in tongues and prophesy. Thus, the Ephesians, with their personal experience with Paul, understand when he says “the Spirit” or “pray in the Spirit,” it is referring to spiritual power, miracles, and praying in tongues. I do not have time to go over all the aspects of Ephesians 6, but I will draw your attention to two things. One is the command to put on God’s power and walk in His might. Paul uses three different words about power and strength regarding God. The command is to put on God’s power and strength and wield it as your own. You do not have the option to walk around like a hot-mess weakling, because it is a command to walk in God’s almighty power. Paul did extraordinary miracles when he was with the Ephesians, and so when he talks about walking in God’s power, it means to have so much power that a handkerchief you had in your pocket gets passed around and heals people. Ephesians 6:10-11 urges: “Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes.”

And lastly, the sword of the Spirit is directly connected to “always praying and praying in the Spirit.” Again, the Ephesians in their personal experience with Paul knew of praying in the Spirit as praying in tongues. Thus, to properly take up the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit cannot be done correctly without praying in tongues. By praying in tongues, you are better at taking up the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit to attack the devil and the kingdom of darkness, which Paul says is our real battle, not the things of the flesh. Ephesians 6:18 adds: “And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests.” It’s like spiritual cardio—keeps your heart pumping with divine energy. Without it, you’re swinging a dull blade in a fight that demands sharpness.

It is also noteworthy, since our topic is about loving God and not forsaking our love for Him, that Jude says in verses 20-21: “But you, dear friends, by building yourselves up in your most holy faith and praying in the Holy Spirit, keep yourselves in God’s love as you wait for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ to bring you to eternal life.” Praying in the Holy Spirit—aka praying in tongues—keeps yourselves in the love of God. You keep yourself in God’s love by praying in tongues. This is why reprobates cannot overcome Jesus’ rebuke to return to loving Him first, because they cannot pray in tongues. Because they cannot believe Jesus to be filled in the Spirit, they cannot pray in tongues. Because they do not pray in tongues, they do not keep themselves in God’s love. It’s a vicious cycle of unbelief, and frankly, it’s tragic. But for those who embrace it, it’s like stoking a fire that never goes out—white hot, passionate, and powerful. How important is it to you to keep yourself in God’s love. If it is then love yourself and pray in tongues. If you do not pray in tongues it is a sign that God does not like you, or a sign you do not like God, because staying in His love is unimportant to you.

Do not stop loving Jesus. You do this by being filled with the Spirit, who will help you know and believe how much God loves you. You improve loving Jesus more, not by focusing on loving Jesus, but by focusing on how much He loves you. The proof you are doing this correctly is by asking for stuff and God giving you more wealth and health than you asked for. You love Jesus not by walking in lowly human weakness, but by obeying His command to walk in His power and strength, to walk in healing the sick, casting out demons and to walk with your head held high. Lastly, you protect your love for God from growing cold by praying in tongues. It’s not rocket science, but it is supernatural; and because the supernatural can only be done by faith, it excludes most people. And let’s be honest, in a world full of faithless perverts, keeping that love white hot, will keep you in God’s love and it will be the spark that sets the world on fire for Him. So, dive in—receive His love, wield His power, and watch as your heart stays ablaze.

Shout Your Prayers From The Rooftops

By Oshea Davis 

January 25, 2026 

I heard an interesting one from a Christian gathering the other day: someone says, “I don’t want to pray out loud—might tip off the devil.” That’s like hiding your flashlight because you’re scared the dark might figure out you’re dispelling it. Well, that’s the whole point, right? As John 1 tells us, the light shines and the darkness does not understand it and cannot overcome it; rather, the light overcomes and pushes away the darkness. This is applicable to both the intellectual aspect as God’s revealed truth and logic is not understood by dark stupidity and blindness. And it refers to power. The light overpowers the darkness. Jesus is the endless power of life. Demons should be the ones quaking when you open your mouth. 

That is how Jesus and the Father see reality. This is a worldview issue. To see reality as the righteousness of God, sitting with Jesus in the heavenly places as a prince of heaven, or through the lens of a lowly mere human. 

First off, rewind to Jairus. Jesus drops that bomb: “Do not fear, only believe” (Mark 5:36). Fear’s the devil’s fake ID; he makes it feel and look so real, but it’s bogus. Satan and his crew are already crushed under Jesus’ boot. Colossians 2:15 spells it out: Christ “disarmed the rulers and authorities and put them to open shame, by triumphing over them in him.” That’s the cross talking—Jesus stripped them naked, paraded them like losers. This is why demons shrieked at His approach; they knew the gig was up. 

But here’s the kicker: that victory’s ours too. Luke 10:19? Jesus hands us the keys: “Behold, I have given you authority to tread on serpents and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy, and nothing shall hurt you.” Tread on them—like stomping grapes at a vineyard party. We’re not cowering; we’re marching forward and commanding. Mark 16:17-18 seals it: “These signs will accompany those who believe: in my name they will cast out demons… they will lay their hands on the sick, and they will recover.” Know your identity in Christ and stand in His righteousness and authority He has already given you. When you do, then devils will bow out when you say, “boo.” 

If God’s sovereign—and He is, dictating every atom—then sickness, demons, all that junk’s under His thumb. But He didn’t leave us dangling. Ephesians 6:12 reminds us the fight’s “against the spiritual forces of evil,” but verse 10 arms us: “Be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his might.” This is like Zeus giving someone his personal armor and lightning bolt. And this is exactly what God has given us. But notice Paul says to put it on and pick up the sword of the Spirit. It does you no good to leave it hanging on the wall. But the main point is that you are empowered with God’s power. Not your power, but God’s power. And it is a command to put it on. You don’t have the luxury to not put it on and walk in mere human weakness. You are commanded to be God’s power on earth. Put on that armor, stand firm. James 4:7? “Submit yourselves therefore to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you.” Flee—like a roach when the light flips on. The verse doesn’t say Satan, the god of this world will flee from God. No. It says he will flee from you, but you must do the resisting in faith. 1 John 4:4 crushes it: “He who is in you is greater than he who is in the world.” Greater? Try infinitely. No contest. 

Years back, God correct me when I was full of fear: “Oshea, those things you’re afraid of? They are to be afraid of you.” Gideon was strong, not because of his own power, but because God made Him strong. In Christ every Christian has been given His authority, His name and His divine weapons. In Christ every Christian is a man of great valor. Cancer howls when faith walks in. Demons scatter when you pray bold. Sickness? Jesus bore it on the cross, and by His stripes we are and were healed (Isaiah 53:4-5). We’re seated with Him in heavenly places (Ephesians 2:6); thus, even if you are the little toe in Jesus’ body, all things under our feet, including every demon and sickness. We have already been given every spiritual blessing. There is no spiritual blessing, (which controls natural blessings), that you will have heaven, that you do not already have now. The same Spirit that empowered Jesus in His unstoppable ministry of healing and casting out demons is available to you today by faith and praying in tongues. Jesus will help you receive the Spirit. 

Bad doctrine that leaves you with even an ounce of fear will kill you—literally. But us? We’re empowered sons, not sniveling slaves. Pray loud, command devils, snatch healing. Devil hears? Good—let him tremble; that’s the whole point. Faith moves mountains, not mountains moving faith. Circumstance doesn’t move faith; rather, as Jesus’ extreme faith doctrine teaches us, faith moves circumstances. 

God’s not stingy; He wants this power surging through you more than you do. Dive into His promises day and night (Psalm 1). Believe this power is yours and you have. Disbelieve it and you will not have it. You need to mediate on the worldview Jesus handed down to us, “do not fear, only believe.” This ought to be the constant, inflexible state of our minds.   

When Jesus was awoken from sleep in a deadly storm, he was upset. He did not sympathize with the disciples for being afraid in a truly deadly storm, but rebuked their unbelief. Most would accuse Jesus for being insensitive and uncaring. But Jesus does care. He cares about healing the sick, expanding the Father’s kingdom and helping us live in the fullness of our identity in Him. He thought a deadly storm, a real storm that could hurt you, is not something you should be afraid of, because of faith. Jesus said, why is your faith so small? Jesus rebuked the storm, and by this showed us what faith does. It is not a fatalistic pagan waiting to see what God does, but faith to stop a storm. James mentions the prophet doing miracles over the natural weather, and says the prayer of a righteous man is powerfully effective. Thus, Jesus expects us to walk in this extreme faith doctrine of faith, so that storms, sickness and demons are afraid of us, not the other way around. 

The point is simple. You have such overwhelming power and authority in Jesus that it does not matter if you shouted all your secret plans to every demon in the world, it does not matter. You have so much power, it is irrelevant if all enemies knew your plans. You have so much power, they can’t stop you. It did not matter that the demons knew Jesus’ plans to heal the sick, cast out demons, resurrect the dead and preach the gospel. They could not stop it. They still screamed out in terror when He came, even though they had time to prepare. We have the same name of Jesus when we pray, we have the same Spirit empowered ministry and we have the seated authority in Jesus in heaven right now.

This is a worldview issue. How do you view Jesus? How do you view the enemy? How do you view yourself in Jesus? 

Matthew 10:27 adds another layer: “What I tell you in the dark, speak in the daylight; what is whispered in your ear, proclaim from the roofs.” Jesus isn’t whispering secrets for us to hoard like misers; He’s arming us with truth to shout from the rooftops. No fear of eavesdroppers—Satan or otherwise—because the light exposes and overcomes darkness. Proclaim it loud: healing, deliverance, prosperity—they’re yours in Christ’s name. The devil overhears? Let him. He’s already defeated, and your bold prayers just remind him of his eviction notice. 

Bold faith isn’t arrogance; it’s obedience. Jesus publicly announced that He will use us (those who confess Jesus is God’s only Son), to storm and tear down the gates of hell. There is no fear in letting the devil know we are coming for him, because Jesus knows how much unlimited power and authority He has given us. So go ahead, climb that rooftop. Your prayers aren’t suggestions; they’re decrees backed by the King. And if demon tunes in? Tell him he’s next on the hit list. It was this type of courageous faith that made the Christians so productive in the book of Acts, and if we follow their example, we too will be effective in the kingdom of God.   

God Gave Me His Son’s Righteousness

Let’s pause for a moment and let the sheer magnitude of this sink in. God, the Almighty who spun galaxies from His fingertips and set and controls the laws of reality in motion, could create anything He desired—worlds, wonders, even lesser beings to serve Him. Yet, what He treasures infinitely above all things is Himself, reflected perfectly in His Son, Jesus Christ. And in an act of unfathomable generosity, He took that very righteousness—the flawless, divine perfection of His Son—and credited it to me. This isn’t a small footnote; it’s the core of who I am now. When God looks at me, He sees Jesus, spotless and exalted at His right hand. My ledger of stumbles and successes? In His eyes, it’s rewritten entirely in the ink of Christ’s unblemished record, without a single smudge. Who am I—or anyone else, for that matter—to argue with the Creator on this point? It’s like telling the sun it shouldn’t shine because you prefer the shade.

We ought to view our righteousness in Christ as naturally as we regard our own hands—those faithful appendages that type these words without a second thought. Picture a newborn, staring at its tiny fists with wide-eyed curiosity, as if pondering, “What are these things dangling in front of me, and do they really belong to me? If so, how on earth do I make them work?” Tragically, too many who call themselves Christians approach their God-given righteousness in much the same bewildered way, doubting its reality or fumbling with how to apply it. But let’s be clear: God’s sovereignty in bestowing this gift is no less absolute than His hand in crafting and controlling every atom of creation, including those hands of yours. He formed them, sustains them, and directs their every motion, yet on the human level—where He graciously meets us—those hands are yours to command, not His. God isn’t what He creates; He deals with us as commanded beings in the relative realm, not the ultimate causality where He orchestrates all. So yes, those hands belong to you, a gift for your use. In precisely the same manner, God has transferred His Son’s righteousness to your account—it’s yours now, no less inherently than your limbs. To question it is to undermine the very exchange Christ secured on the cross.

As that infant matures, it comes to grasp the truth: those arms and hands are indeed its own, tools to explore, create, and thrive. With time, mastery follows, until using them becomes second nature—no hesitation, no self-doubt. The grown person doesn’t pause mid-task to wonder, “Are these really mine? Might my boss take offense if I wield them to sign this contract?” Yet, how many believers linger in spiritual infancy, perpetually questioning if all this righteousness truly belongs to them? They waver, peering at their divine inheritance like it’s a borrowed trinket, liable to be snatched away at any moment. This isn’t faith; it’s unbelief, doubting God’s word and Jesus’ finished work. Scripture doesn’t mince words here.

Paul declares in Romans 4:20-24 (NIV), Abraham “did not waver through unbelief regarding the promise of God, but was strengthened in his faith and gave glory to God, being fully persuaded that God had power to do what he had promised. This is why ‘it was credited to him as righteousness.’ The words ‘it was credited to him’ were written not for him alone, but also for us, to whom God will credit righteousness—for us who believe in him who raised Jesus our Lord from the dead.” Abraham believed God’s extravagant promises of blessing, and righteousness was imputed to him apart from any law or merit. We, as his spiritual heirs, receive the same—yet some fritter it away with needless skepticism, as if God’s gavel might reverse course. Frankly, it’s like showing up to King’s feast and complaining about the silverware; you miss the King’s love the bounty staring you in the face.

Delving deeper, the Bible introduces imputed righteousness not amid gloom and guilt, but in the radiant context of God’s overflowing favor to Abraham. In Genesis 15:6 (NIV), we read, “Abram believed the Lord, and he credited it to him as righteousness.” What was Abram believing? Not a plea for pardon from sin—that’s nowhere in sight. No, God had just unveiled a cascade of promises: descendants as numerous as the stars, land stretching to the horizons, protection as a shield, and Himself as Abram’s “very great reward” (Genesis 15:1 NIV). It’s a declaration of abundance—health, wealth, legacy, victory—pure, unadulterated blessing. Abram assents, trusting God’s power to deliver all the good things He promised, and bam: righteousness credited, no strings attached. Paul hammers this home in Romans 4, emphasizing it’s “apart from the law” (Romans 3:21 NIV), a free gift for those who believe like Abraham did. This isn’t some secondary perk; it’s foundational, predating Moses by centuries, designed to showcase God’s grace without legal hoops.

Fast-forward to the cross, where this imputation reaches its pinnacle in Christ. As 2 Corinthians 5:21 (NIV) states plainly, “God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.” Here’s the great exchange: our filthy record transferred to Jesus, who bore its penalty in full, while His spotless righteousness floods our account. It’s not a partial swap or a begrudging loan; it’s total, divine, and irrevocable. Romans 5:17-19 (NIV) expands this, contrasting Adam’s legacy of death with Christ’s gift of life: “For if, by the trespass of the one man, death reigned through that one man, how much more will those who receive God’s abundant provision of grace and of the gift of righteousness reign in life through the one man, Jesus Christ! … For just as through the disobedience of the one man the many were made sinners, so also through the obedience of the one man the many will be made righteous.” Notice the “much more”—Christ’s righteousness doesn’t just cancel the debt; it catapults us into reigning status, heirs with Him, empowered to dominate circumstances as He does.

But here’s where the rubber meets the road, and frankly, where too many skid off into the ditch of doubt. If this righteousness is truly yours—as natural as those hands you use daily—then act like it. No more tiptoeing around like a spiritual pauper, begging for scraps when the banquet is yours by right. Remember the baby analogy? Maturity means owning it, wielding it without apology. When temptation whispers, “Look at your track record—you’re still that old mess,” counter with the truth: “No, devil, my record is Christ’s now, flawless and favored.” It’s not arrogance; it’s alignment with God’s verdict. As Vincent Cheung aptly puts it in his essay “The Christian and the Self,” “When you feel so ‘right,’ nothing can stand in your way. When you are so ‘right,’ you cannot conceive of any reason why God would not answer your prayers for success and miracles.” He’s spot on, because it echoes Scripture’s boldness.

In practical terms, this imputed righteousness reshapes everything. Prayer becomes a throne-room decree, not a timid plea, because you approach as one robed in Christ’s perfection. Healing? Claim it—Isaiah 53:5 (NIV) assures, “by his wounds we are healed,” part of the same atoning exchange. Prosperity? Abraham’s blessing flows to us (Galatians 3:14 NIV), crediting abundance where lack once ruled. And sin? It’s dethroned, no longer your master, because you’re not under law but grace (Romans 6:14 NIV). Doubt this, and you’re essentially calling God a liar, which is about as wise as arm-wrestling a hurricane. Instead, let it fuel your faith: meditate on Romans 4 until it’s etched in your soul, rebuking any voice—internal or infernal—that suggests otherwise. God didn’t skimp on this gift; He over-engineered it for your assurance, layering justification apart from the law with forgiveness by the law, all sealed in Christ’s blood.

Wrapping this up, if there’s one takeaway, it’s this: God gave me His Son’s righteousness not as a loan to be repaid, but as my new identity, irrevocable and empowering. It’s me—as real as these hands typing away. To live otherwise is to shortchange the cross and grieve the Spirit. So own it, wield it, and watch mountains move. After all, who are we to disagree with the One who holds the stars? Let’s live like the righteous heirs we are, with a shout of gratitude toward heaven’s Son that made it so.

Is Something My Will If I Already Did It?

This isn’t a trick question. It should be obvious.

There’s something profoundly satisfying about diving into the doctrine of “You Already Got It.” It’s like uncovering a treasure chest that’s been sitting right under our noses all along, bursting with promises already fulfilled through the finished work of Jesus Christ. There are legitimate moments when we approach the throne in prayer, asking for specific things as the Spirit leads us—guidance in a tough decision, or wisdom for a new season. But let’s be clear: a massive chunk of God’s promises aren’t dangling out there in the future, waiting for us to beg hard enough. No, they’re already accomplished, sealed in the gospel through Jesus’ atonement and resurrection. It’s done. Finished. Deposited into our accounts, ready for withdrawal by faith. And when we grasp this, it changes how we pray, how we live, and how we view God’s will—like flipping a switch from dim doubt to full-beam certainty.

I’m reminded of Andrew Wommack’s illustration from the Garden of Eden. Picture Adam and Eve, surrounded by an abundance of fruit trees, rivers of living water, and every good thing God had provided. How ridiculous would it have been for Adam to drop to his knees and plead, “Oh Lord, if it’s Your will, please give me something to eat today”? The food was right there, hanging low and ripe for the taking. They didn’t need to ask for provision because it was already theirs by divine design and command. In the same way, so many of the blessings we chase after—healing, forgiveness, prosperity, righteousness—are already ours through Christ’s completed work. We’re not paupers knocking on heaven’s door; we’re heirs lounging in the family estate, with the fridge fully stocked.

Vincent Cheung nails this in “Adventures of Jesus Christ,” echoing an illustration similar to what F.F. Bosworth taught in “Christ the Healer,” but with a sharper focus on the “already done” aspect. He writes, “When God tells you that a miracle will happen, believe it. When God promises to do a thing for you, accept that he will do it… The Bible says many things that are more than promises, but it tells you that something is already done. Imagine if I say to you, ‘I have put a present in your room.’ And you answer, ‘Well, you will do it if you want to.’ Would that not be silly? I told you that I have already done it, and that the present is already in your room, but you answer as if it is not yet done, and that you are not sure if it would happen at all. Again, it is like you think I have not said anything. It is like you are calling me a liar.”[1] There’s a frankness in that analogy, isn’t there? It’s not just polite conversation; it’s exposing the absurdity of doubting what’s already been handed over—like ignoring a gift-wrapped package under the tree and wondering if its your parents will to open it on Christas day.

So, how can anyone tack on “if it’s God’s will” to something He has already declared and delivered? It’s not merely a harmless phrase—it’s both foolish and offensive, like chatting with a brick wall hoping for an intelligent conversation. This isn’t neutral territory; it’s a direct assault on the integrity of God. Take healing, for instance. If you murmur, “If it’s God’s will to heal me,” you’re not expressing humility; you’re slapping Jesus across the face and questioning the stripes He bore on the cross. Isaiah 53:5 spells it out plainly: “But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was on him, and by his wounds we are healed.” Peter echoes this in the past tense: “By his wounds you have been healed” (1 Peter 2:24). God already did it. Jesus already suffered for it. Are we really going to demand that God re-crucify His Son just to prove a point? That’s the only way He’s chosen to provide healing—through that one, perfect sacrifice.

This is like forgiveness of sins. The foundation of asking for forgiveness is confessing with your mouth that Jesus has already forgiven you through His work, and you’re agreeing with Him about this. You’re not asking God to do something new to forgive you, because that would mean asking Him to re-crucify Jesus—that’s how forgiveness happens. It already happened. When you repent, you’re agreeing with God, acknowledging that He’s correct and that you’re forgiven by Jesus for all your sins, once and for all time. The same goes for all blessings produced by that same blood and resurrection of Jesus, such as healing, Abraham’s blessings, and prosperity. You’re not asking Him; you’re agreeing with Him about what He has already done for you, and this faith allows you to receive it.

Imagine your boss telling you in the breakroom that he dropped a stack of paperwork on your keyboard, saying, “Fill this out by lunch and turn it in.” But instead of getting to work, you lean back and reply, “Well, if it’s your will, you’ll do it; if not, you won’t.” Your boss would stare at you like you’d grown a second head, thinking he’s dealing with a complete idiot or someone dodging responsibility. “I already put it right there on your desk—of course it’s my will! What on earth are you babbling about?” In all my years shuffling through jobs and dealing with co-workers, I’ve never witnessed that level of nonsense. Yet, Christians pull this stunt with God all the time and dress it up as piety, humility, or respect. Let’s call it what it is: it’s neither humble nor respectful. God is good, and when you’re essentially bitch-slapping Him across the face and branding Him a liar, you’re not a model of good; you’re bad, just as the devil is bad.

When God has already accomplished something colossal, like the finished work of Jesus on the cross, injecting “if it’s God’s will” into the equation doesn’t just miss the mark; it attacks the very character of God as a fraud. Those stripes on Jesus’ back? They were for your healing, already inflicted, already effective, already credited to your name. You can’t casually wonder, “If it’s God’s will to heal me,” without becoming God’s antagonist in this cosmic story. This makes you bad. God is good, and because you’re opposing Him, you’re bad. Jesus has already forgiven your sins, healed your body, showered you with Abraham’s blessings, and positioned you for prosperity. As Galatians 3:13-14 declares, “Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us… He redeemed us in order that the blessing given to Abraham might come to the Gentiles through Christ Jesus.” The curse includes sickness, poverty, and defeat (Deuteronomy 28), and Jesus nailed it all to the cross. To question God’s will here is to render those promises unintelligible, declaring God a liar by saying they weren’t completed and already given to you.

Because God is good, and Jesus has already given you healing, to oppose healing with “if it is God’s will” means you’re a bad person. In fact, Acts 10:38 says healing is good, and Jesus did this good thing called healing. It is true that God is good, and so also Jesus is good. Because God is good, by definition of His nature, anything He does is good. However, this is not what the verse says. It says that healing is good, and Jesus is doing this good thing. Thus, the Bible declares healing as a category of good. Thus, it is always good to heal. Healing is good. The verse contrasts this with sickness as bad, and the devil is doing this bad thing called sickness. It is not saying the devil is bad, and so sickness is bad because the devil is doing it. No—as with healing and Jesus, sickness is bad categorically, and the devil is doing this bad thing. Healing is good, and Jesus does this good thing. Sickness is bad, and the devil does this bad thing called sickness. Thus, to oppose healing is bad. You’re a bad person because you do bad things when you do anything to oppose the supernatural healing ministry of God.

Instead, let’s flip the script and agree with God that He’s right, that Jesus has already secured these victories for us. We receive them by faith, with hearts full of thankfulness, not timidity. Any other approach? It’s tantamount to making God out to be a deceiver, and that’s a road no one should wander down. Don’t be on the bad side of this war—be good, align with His truth. Healing is unequivocally good, a direct counter to the oppression of the devil, as Acts 10:38 reminds us: “how God anointed Jesus of Nazareth with the Holy Spirit and power, and how he went around doing good and healing all who were under the power of the devil, because God was with him.” Sickness is bad, a remnant of the curse that Jesus demolished. Good versus bad—it’s that straightforward. God doesn’t mingle the two; He calls us to the former and equips us to reject the latter.

Of course, this ruffles feathers in some circles, where folks prefer a watered-down gospel that leaves room for doubt. They’ll quote James 4:15 out of context—”If it is the Lord’s will, we will live and do this or that”—as if it applies to every prayer. But James is warning against arrogant planning without acknowledging God’s sovereignty, not nullifying the clear promises of the New Covenant, already finished and ratified by Jesus’ blood and death. When God has already accomplished something, as in the atonement, hedging with “if it’s Your will” calling God a liar and disguising it as humble caution.

In “The Staff of God,” I explore how Moses’ rod symbolized authority over the natural realm, turning it into a serpent or parting seas—all because God had already empowered and authorized Moses to use it. My arms and legs don’t have inherent power, but relative to my experience, when I move them, they do have a degree of inherent power. Ultimately, it is not as if the staff had inherent power, but relative to Moses using it, it was as if it did have God’s inherent power. It was the Staff of God, and Moses was a god to Pharaoh. We hold a similar staff in the promises of God, already accomplished through Christ. Don’t lay it down and ask if God wants to use it; pick it up and command the mountains to move, as Jesus instructed in Mark 11:23: “Truly I tell you, if anyone says to this mountain, ‘Go, throw yourself into the sea,’ and does not doubt in their heart but believes that what they say will happen, it will be done for them.” Faith isn’t wishing; it’s enforcing what’s already decreed—like being the cosmic sheriff with a badge backed by the ultimate authority.

We must not forget the simple contrast: good and bad aren’t ambiguous in Scripture. God is the author of good—life, health, abundance (John 10:10). The thief comes to steal, kill, and destroy, peddling sickness and lack as if they’re divine lessons. But Jesus came for abundant life, already paid for. Sickness is bad, a curse; healing is good, a blessing. Acts 10:38 doesn’t mince words—Jesus healed all oppressed by the devil. If we’re imitating Him, we reject the bad and embrace the good.

We must guard against the subtle trap of unbelief that reframes defeat as devotion. Sickness isn’t God’s glory; it’s Satan’s middle finger to the atonement. Jesus smashed sickness everywhere He went, calling it oppression from the devil (Acts 10:38; Luke 13:16). If you pin it on God, you won’t fight it. You’ll roll over and call torment “sovereign.” That’s not submission; that’s siding with the loser in this war. When you pray “if it’s Your will” over already-paid-for promises, you’re evaluating God from a human point of view—limiting the Holy One. Faith agrees with God’s definition: It’s done. You receive by believing you already have it (Mark 11:24). Reality obeys because the resurrected Christ backs your voice. You’re not begging; you’re enforcing. Seated with Him far above sickness, lack, and demons (Ephesians 2:6).

We live in a world where Christians often treat God’s promises like they’re playing a cosmic game of hot potato—tossing around phrases like “if it’s God’s will” as if the Almighty is some indecisive committee chairman still mulling over the agenda. But let’s cut through the fog here. The gospel isn’t a pending transaction; it’s a finished deal, sealed in the blood of Jesus Christ. When we talk about things like healing, forgiveness, prosperity, or the blessings of Abraham, we’re not begging for scraps from heaven’s table. No, these are realities already accomplished through Jesus’ atonement and resurrection. To question “if it’s God’s will” for such promises isn’t just misguided—it’s an outright affront to the cross, like slapping the Savior across the face while He’s still bearing those stripes for our sake. And yet, this hesitation persists in churches everywhere, masquerading as humility when it’s really unbelief in disguise.

In closing, let’s commit to a faith that honors the “already did it” of the cross. No more “if it’s Your will” for what’s plainly promised; instead, “Thank You, Father, for what You’ve provided.” This shifts us from beggars to heirs, from victims to victors. As Psalm 103:2-3 urges, “Praise the Lord, my soul, and forget not all his benefits—who forgives all your sins and heals all your diseases.” All means all. And if the enemy whispers otherwise, tell him to take a hike—because the victory parade has already started, and you’re in it.

—

[1] Vincent Cheung, “The Adventures of Jesus Christ.”

A Deep Relationship with the Sun

Imagine someone boldly declaring, “I have a profound, intimate relationship with the sun.” Yet, when you press them on it, they admit they’ve never felt its warmth on their skin or seen its light chase away the shadows. They might even claim to live in perpetual darkness and chill, as if that’s normal. At that point, you’d have to wonder: is this person outright lying, or are they so deluded that they’ve lost touch with basic reality? Because here’s the unvarnished truth—a relationship with the sun isn’t some abstract notion floating in the ether; it’s defined by experiencing its core attributes. Heat and light aren’t optional add-ons; they are the very essence of what the sun provides. Without them, your so-called “relationship” is nothing but empty words, a hollow shell masquerading as connection. You can’t divorce the sun from its radiance and expect the bond to hold. It’s laughable, really—like claiming to be best friends with a fire but never getting warmed by it. It’s like saying you’re tight with a supernova but still shivering in a black hole.

One of the biggest deceptions in the church today is the idea that forgiveness of sins is the “relationship.” Let’s get this straight: forgiveness is the doorway. It is not the house. To be reconciled is to have the relationship restored, but the act of reconciliation is not the relationship itself.

Think about it like this: if you have a falling out with your spouse and you go through a process of reconciliation, that process is what allows you back into the house. But if, after being reconciled, you choose to stand in the doorway for the next twenty years, never coming into the kitchen, never sitting at the table, never sharing a bed, never being one-flesh through hot sex, and never speaking a word, do you have a relationship? No. You have a so-called legal status, but no reality. It’s like having a VIP pass to a concert but spending the whole night in the lobby checking your phone.

Now, transpose that to the ultimate reality: a relationship with Jesus Christ. If you’re going to claim you know Him, walk with Him, have this so-called “deep connection,” then it better manifest in the tangible blessings He promised. To have a relationship with Jesus is to know and experience healing, prosperity, miracles, and the baptism of the Holy Spirit. That’s not optional; that’s the definition. Just like you can’t divorce the sun from its heat and light, you can’t sever Jesus from the power He unleashes in a believer’s life. Without those, your “relationship” is a sham, a delusion, or worse—a rejection of the very atonement He provided.

Why must this be spelled out to grown adults who claim to follow Christ? It’s as if we’ve collectively forgotten how relationships function. Picture a married couple who constantly reminisce about their wedding day—the vows, the rings, the initial union—but never share meals, conversations, laughter, or pleasurable sex thereafter. They might frame their marriage certificate on the wall and pat themselves on the back for being “reconciled,” but anyone with eyes to see would call it a farce, a non-relationship cloaked in nostalgia. Honestly, that’s not a marriage; that’s a dusty museum exhibit.

The Lord’s Supper, commanded by Jesus in Luke 22:19-20, presupposes that our daily lives aren’t perpetually glued to the cross in morbid fixation; it’s a periodic remembrance amid a vibrant, ongoing communion. 1 Corinthians 11:26 NIV, “For whenever you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes.” It’s an occasional proclamation woven into the fabric of active fellowship, not a substitute for it.

A true relationship with Jesus Christ overflows with the tangible manifestations of His presence and power. Just as the sun’s relationship inherently delivers heat and light, knowing Jesus means experiencing healing, prosperity, miracles, and the baptism of the Holy Spirit. These aren’t extravagant extras for a select few “super saints”; they are the normative expressions of abiding in Him. John 15:7-8 NASB lays it out as a litmus test for genuine discipleship: “If you remain in Me, and My words remain in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you. My Father is glorified by this, that you bear much fruit, and so prove to be My disciples.” Notice the progression—abiding leads to asking, which leads to receiving, which glorifies God and confirms your status as a follower. This isn’t pie-in-the-sky mysticism; it’s relationship 101, where His Word takes root in you, and you respond by believing it enough to ask boldly, knowing God will give it to you. Fruit here isn’t limited to character traits; in context, it encompasses the miraculous answers to prayer that demonstrate God’s power at work through you. And let’s be real, who doesn’t love a good fruit basket full of miracles?

Consider healing, for instance. It’s not a rare lottery win but a promised reality for those in covenant with Christ. Isaiah 53:4-5, fulfilled in the New Testament, declares in the NIV: “Surely he took up our pain and bore our suffering, yet we considered him punished by God, stricken by him, and afflicted. But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was on him, and by his wounds we are healed.” Matthew 8:17 confirms this as a present-tense provision: “This was to fulfill what was spoken through the prophet Isaiah: ‘He took up our infirmities and bore our diseases.'” Peter echoes it in Acts 10:38, describing Jesus’ ministry: “how God anointed Jesus of Nazareth with the Holy Spirit and power, and how he went around doing good and healing all who were under the power of the devil, because God was with him.” If your “relationship” with Jesus leaves you oppressed by sickness, without the faith to command it gone in His name, then something’s amiss. It’s like standing in the sun’s blaze but insisting you’re freezing—either denial or delusion at play. God doesn’t send illness to teach lessons; Satan oppresses, and Jesus liberates. To claim fellowship without pursuing and receiving this liberation is to shortchange the King who paid dearly for it.

Prosperity follows suit, not as greedy excess but as divine provision flowing from the same atonement. 2 Corinthians 8:9 in the NKJV states: “For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though He was rich, yet for your sakes He became poor, that you through His poverty might become rich.” This isn’t spiritualized poverty gospel; it’s a true exchange where Christ’s impoverishment secures our abundance. Deuteronomy 28:1-14 outlines blessings of obedience under the old covenant—fruitful fields, overflowing storehouses, victory over enemies—but Galatians 3:13-14 redeems us from the curse, granting access through faith: “Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us… He redeemed us in order that the blessing given to Abraham might come to the Gentiles through Christ Jesus, so that by faith we might receive the promise of the Spirit.” Abraham’s blessing included material wealth (Genesis 13:2), and we’re heirs (Galatians 3:29). If your relationship with Jesus keeps you scraping by, without the boldness to confess and receive provision as per Philippians 4:19—”And my God will meet all your needs according to the riches of his glory in Christ Jesus”—then you’re lingering at the doorway, not feasting at the table. It’s a disgrace to the Host, who invites us to partake freely. Imagine showing up to an all-you-can-eat buffet and just nibbling on crumbs—talk about missing the point!

Miracles and the baptism of the Holy Spirit seal this relational reality. John 14:12: “Very truly I tell you, whoever believes in me will do the works I have been doing, and they will do even greater things than these, because I am going to the Father.” Greater works? Jesus said these works are you asking God for something and God giving it, and so it means miracles. Asking for miracles and getting them is an expectation for believers empowered by faith and the Spirit.

Acts 1:8 declares: “But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.” This power manifests in miracles, as seen in Acts 19:11-12: “God did extraordinary miracles through Paul, so that even handkerchiefs and aprons that had touched him were taken to the sick, and their illnesses were cured and the evil spirits left them.” The baptism of the Spirit, promised in Acts 2:38-39—”Repent and be baptized, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins. And you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. The promise is for you and your children and for all who are far off—for all whom the Lord our God will call”—equips us for this. 1 Corinthians 14:2,18 highlights praying in tongues as edification: “For anyone who speaks in a tongue does not speak to people but to God… I thank God that I speak in tongues more than all of you.” Without this immersion and its fruits—miracles, tongues, prophecy—you’re claiming sun-relationship status while huddled in a cave. It’s like having a superpower suit but leaving it in the closet—why even bother?

It’s utterly useless—and frankly, irritating—to keep parroting “have a relationship with Jesus” without spelling out what that entails. It’s like handing someone a map to buried treasure but never telling them to dig. Some folks boil this down to something merely spiritual, mostly about believing and thanking Jesus for the forgiveness of sins. This is insanity on steroids! Forgiveness is the doorway to the relationship, not the relationship itself. Why do I even need to explain this? Reconciliation restores access; it’s the starting line, not the finish. To be reconciled means the barrier of sin is removed so you can enter into fellowship, but staying parked at the cross, always reminiscing about the date of your salvation, is not fellowship—it’s stagnation.

Because Jesus is no longer on the cross, by definition you cannot have a relationship with Jesus if you stay at the cross. Jesus is presently seated at the right hand of Power, pouring out the power of the Spirit and granting our requests asked in His Name. Because an active relationship requires present engagement with a person, you cannot have a relationship with Jesus without boldly approaching the throne of grace to ask and receive good things and miracles. Jesus on the throne is the only Jesus that exists. Jesus on the cross does not exist anymore. You cannot have a relationship with Jesus on the cross. It is impossible.

Think about it: Jesus commands us to do the Lord’s Supper “in remembrance of Me” (Luke 22:19), which presupposes that normally, you’re not fixated on the cross every waking moment. The cross is the entry point, but the relationship is living in the resurrection power. Paul says in Philippians 3:10 (LEB), “to know him and the power of his resurrection.” Knowing Him includes that power—resurrection life flowing through you, manifesting in healings, provisions, signs, and wonders. Don’t just remember the cross; live the upgraded throne positioned life.

Forgiveness is the doorway, but sitting at the King’s table, feasting on the blessings of God with thankfulness—that’s the relationship. To linger at the doorway when the King has invited you in is a disgrace to His hospitality. It’s like showing up to a banquet, standing in the foyer mumbling about how grateful you are for the invitation, but never touching the food. Grab the bread of healing, pour the wine of joy, claim the meat of prosperity—that honors the King! Jesus said in Matthew 11:28-30 (NLT), “Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.” Rest isn’t idleness; it’s ceasing from your own labors to enjoy His provisions. And hey, what level of dumb turns down free divine catering?

If you insist on camping at the doorway of forgiveness, refusing to step in and experience what He’s prepared, don’t be surprised when He says, “I never knew you” (Matthew 7:23). Knowing implies intimacy, shared experiences. He’ll look at you and say, “I never saw you at the table. I don’t remember giving you healing for that sickness, prosperity to break that poverty cycle, power to cast out that demon, miracles to turn your mess into a testimony. I don’t remember you asking, and then Me giving you what you want. I don’t know you because you never claimed what I died to give.” That’s not harsh; that’s biblical reality. In Matthew 25:12, the foolish virgins are shut out with “I don’t know you” because they weren’t prepared to enter the feast. You are not identified as on team Jesus until you enter in and partake of the good things the King has given you.

Let me hammer this home with another angle, drawing from the Staff of God principle I unpacked in my essay. God gave Moses the staff—His own power delegated—but when Moses whined at the Red Sea, God snapped, “Why are you crying out to me? Tell the people to get moving! Pick up your staff and raise your hand over the sea. Divide the water” (Exodus 14:15-16 NLT). The power was already in Moses’ hand; he just had to use it. Same with us: Jesus has given us His authority (Luke 10:19), His Spirit (Acts 1:8), His blessings (Ephesians 1:3). A relationship means wielding that staff—commanding healing, prosperity, miracles—not begging like a pauper. Moses had a staff; we’ve got the ultimate upgrade kit—don’t leave it in the box!

To stay fixated on forgiveness alone, treating it as the sum total, risks hearing those chilling words from Matthew 7:23: “Then I will tell them plainly, ‘I never knew you. Away from me, you evildoers!'” Jesus won’t recognize those who never ventured beyond the entryway, never sat at His table to receive healing, prosperity, power, and miracles. He prepared these blessings not as optional luxuries but as integral to knowing Him intimately. God is the God and creator of all things. In our relationship to the Creator and Benefactor of all things, He gives and we receive. There is no other way to have a relationship with the God who creates and controls all things. I hate that I must take time to say this, but sickness is given by Satan, not God. Satan and sickness are bad. God and healing are good. Acts 10:38 says sickness is bad, from the devil, not God, and Jesus who is good takes away sickness. Isaiah 54:15 says if bad people attack you, which is a bad thing, God didn’t send them. God is good and so He will give you something good like protection and victory. He gives good things, you receive good things and miracles. That’s how the relationship works. There is no other God but this God; there is no other relationship to have with God but this one. Think of it like this: if a king invites you into his palace after pardoning your debts, and you camp out in the foyer, refusing the banquet, the chambers, the counsel—how long before he questions your loyalty? It’s not just a rejection of the pardon; it is a rejection of the full relationship he offers; it is a rejection of the man himself.

In closing, a deep relationship with Jesus isn’t some ethereal, feel-good notion. It’s heat and light—tangible, life-changing power. If you’re not experiencing it, repent, believe the promises, and step through the doorway to the table. God’s not consulting you on this; He’s already provided it all through the cross. Claim it, live it, honor Him by enjoying it. If you don’t know the heat of the Spirit and the light of answered prayers and miracles, you do not have a relationship with Jesus. There is no other God but this God. There is no other relationship but this one. So, grab your spiritual sunglasses and step into the sunshine—it’s waiting!