Category Archives: Christian Axiology

The Jesus Flex Or The Spirit Flex?

Jesus chose the Spirit’s flex. And so we will do the same.

I saw this not so harmless comment today. We will learn again that you can never attack the Spirit and come out innocent.

“There is an aberrant teaching gaining traction in the Christian world that states that when Jesus lived on the earth two thousand years ago he did not perform miracles by his divine nature but as a mere man through the power of the Holy Spirit. And since he could do this, so can all of His followers. It is stated that we can follow Jesus as our example (true), including we can all raise people from the dead (but this is false, from any view of spiritual gifts – continuationist, restorationist, or cessationist).”

If I choose not to flex my arm, I don’t stop being a human being.

It’s glaringly obvious from the pages themselves that Jesus didn’t flip a switch between “God-mode” and “man-mode” like some cosmic light switch. He was born under the law (Galatians 4:4), lived as the perfect man under it, and powered His whole ministry by the Holy Spirit. Check the deduction right from His own mouth: “If I drive out demons by the Spirit of God, then the kingdom of God has come upon you” (Matthew 12:28). That’s not a one-off; it’s the package deal for His entire gig. Peter spells it out in Acts 10:38: “God anointed Jesus of Nazareth with the Holy Spirit and power, and… he went around doing good and healing all who were under the power of the devil, because God was with him.” And Jesus Himself ties it back: the Spirit empowers the whole show (Luke 4:14, 18). He did not toggle off the God-mode or human-mode when, He crashed in bed to sleep, or when He cast out demons: no, He stayed consistent as the God-man submitted to the law, not because He lost a drop of deity, but because He chose to model the human life we’re called to copy. Jesus made a choice not to flex His right arm.

Now, the deity part? He never clocked out of being God. Philippians 2:6-7 lays it out deductively: He was “in very nature God” but “did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage; rather, he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant.” Me choosing not to flex my right arm doesn’t make me non-human. Jesus not choosing to flex His arm in ministry, but instead allowing the Spirit to flex His arm, doesn’t make Jesus less God. He retained full God-ness (John 1:1,14; Colossians 2:9 says the fullness of deity lives in Him bodily), but operated under the law as our example.

The quote concedes that we “follow Jesus as our example” part. So far, so good; we follow Jesus even being baptised in the same Spirit-filled power. Then they pivot to “but you still can’t raise the dead and have healing on demand” by claiming to have the same Spirit empowered ministry Jesus’ had. Their sneaky move. Jesus was mainly flexing His own biceps in ministry. Thus, “if Jesus was mostly flexing His own divine power the whole time, then even if we’re filled with the Spirit exactly like He was, we still don’t get the same miracle menu, the same certainty for miracles—because His real horsepower was the Jesus-arm curl, not the Spirit’s flex.” Sounds clever on the surface, right? But watch how the Bible’s own logic torches it.

First, even if we grant their “mostly Jesus power” claim for the sake of argument (which the text doesn’t actually say—Matthew 12:28, Acts 10:38, and Luke 4:14,18 all tie His whole ministry package to the Spirit), it still changes nothing about what we can do. Why? Because Jesus’ extreme faith doctrine stands completely independent of that debate. It’s not riding shotgun on the “Spirit empowerment vs. divine flex” argument—it’s a separate, rock-solid command for every believer. He flat-out says:

– “If you have faith as small as a mustard seed… nothing will be impossible for you.” (Matthew 17:20) 

– “Whoever believes in me will do the works I have been doing, and they will do even greater things…” (John 14:12) 

– “If anyone says to this mountain, ‘Go, throw yourself into the sea,’ and does not doubt… it will be done for them.” (Mark 11:23)

That’s not “if the Spirit gives you the resurrection gift” or “only when you’re flexing like I sometimes did.” It’s “pray in faith, speak the command, and receive it.” The faith doctrine is always in play, always available, always normal discipleship. So their whole attack on the Spirit’s role? Pointless detour. It doesn’t touch the mountain-moving, dead-raising promise Jesus handed us directly. Even on their own terms, we still get the goods through faith. Game over.

When they downgrade the Spirit’s role in Jesus’ miracles like this, they’re tiptoeing on the line Jesus drew in Mark 3:28-30. He warned that attributing the clear works of the Holy Spirit to something else (or in this case, minimizing them) is the one thing that doesn’t get forgiven—because it insults the very power that proves the kingdom has arrived. The text doesn’t play games here: the Spirit empowered Jesus’ entire show (Peter says so in Acts 10:38, Jesus confirms it in Matthew 12:28). Trying to push the Spirit into the background so Jesus can flex His right arm in His earthly ministry? That Spirit’s blasphemy warning 101.

Their attack is a logical swing-and-miss on two fronts: (1) it ignores the faith doctrine that makes miracles our everyday expectation anyway, and (2) it risks the exact Spirit-dishonoring trap Jesus flagged. The Bible keeps it simple and extreme: Jesus modeled Spirit-fueled, faith-speaking life under the law (without ever clocking out of being God), then said “you do the same—and even bigger.” No fine print, no “mostly divine flex” loophole. That’s the deductive flow straight from the text.

And here’s the final point: the critic always shoots too low. This is the default posture of the faithless. Because they don’t truly believe in God’s promises or the gospel, they limit God—and in doing so, they limit themselves. The gospel says aim for the stars, but they aim for the dirt. They end up hitting the dirt and then high-five each other for their incredible accuracy. Yet they aim too low in every area of life—including when they take shots at their opponents. They fire at the dirt a few feet in front of the target and call it a bullseye.

They imply our goal is to be like Jesus. But our calling is more than Jesus. Jesus Himself said we would do greater works than He did. The doctrine of faith, combined with the baptism of the Holy Spirit that Jesus gave us, means we’re equipped to do greater things than He did while on earth. Jesus promised more miracles—not fewer.

Head Held High

Maturity is not the nervous waiter routine some Christians keep pulling at the cosmic buffet—scraping together a few spiritual tips, hoping the Father will notice their effort and toss them a crumb. Nah. Maturity is you, the full-blown son, leaning back in the seat of adoption and letting the endless, jaw-dropping blessings roll in like waves that never quit. The Spirit is no vague vibe floating around; He is the insider, searching the deep things of God and shouting straight into your soul, “Hey kid, this feast is already yours—dig in!” (1 Corinthians 2:6-12). The gospel was predestined for your glory, not your groveling. Paul spells it out: we have received the Spirit who is from God so that we may understand what God has freely given us. Freely. No strings, no performance review, no cosmic rent due. Just pure, ridiculous generosity from the One whose unmerited favor supplies man—man does not supply God.

Picture the prodigal again, but this time do not stop the story where most do. The kid drags himself out of the pig pen, stench still clinging to his rags, ready to beg for servant status. “Father, I have sinned… treat me as one of your hired hands.” That is the low-faith script most believers keep rehearsing. But real maturity? That is when the Father’s Spirit pumps iron in your soul so you do not limp home begging scraps. You stand tall, eyes locked on the One who ran to meet you while you were still a long way off. He slides the signet ring onto your finger—full authority, baby. He drapes the best robe over your shoulders—righteousness that screams, “I belong here, and the blood of the Lamb made sure of it.” He buckles the sandals on your feet so you walk like royalty, not crawl like a hired hand. Then you march straight into the house, head high, grin wider than the banquet table, because you are not a guest. You are the son. You are the prince. The party is for you.

This is the heartbeat of the gospel. The Father does not negotiate a probation period. He does not say, “Earn the robe first.” He restores identity on the spot because that is what the contract always promised: I am your exceedingly great reward. You are the promises of God. The same love the Father has for Jesus, He pours out on His elect without measure. We are co-heirs with Christ, clean, righteous, empowered with the same Spirit of power and ministry that Jesus had through the baptism of the Spirit. All things are ours. The past and the future are ours. We judge the world and angels. We inherit the world. We boldly approach the throne of Almighty God as sons, princes of heaven, to ask and receive. Financial prosperity and healing belong to the same faith that receives forgiveness—because the gospel is total salvation or it is no gospel at all.

Some still tiptoe around like they owe the King rent. They treat maturity as a spiritual gym membership where they sweat out enough good works to qualify for blessings. It denies the unmerited favor of the gospel that supplies everything. It treats the cross like a down payment and your effort like the rest of the mortgage. Stop it. The Spirit who searches the deep things of God does not hand you a to-do list; He hands you the finished work and says, “Understand what has been freely given.” Faith is mental assent to God’s word, full stop. Emotions are not epistemology. Works are not grace. When you live by feelings or performance, you are being disobedient and irrational at the same time.

Look at the ring again. That signet is authority. The robe is righteousness. The sandals are the walk of a son who knows his Father is not keeping score. The fatted calf is already on the spit, and the Father is not waiting for you to earn the barbecue sauce. He is running toward you with arms wide, robe flapping, ring ready, because the gospel was predestined for your glory. Paul says the wisdom of God is hidden in a mystery, but God revealed it to us by His Spirit. The world’s wisest philosophers could not dream this up. Human wisdom never gets you there because its limits are bound by observation. Our measure are the promises of God, not empiricism. Only the Spirit who knows the mind of God can shout the good news into your heart: you are not a servant eating pig slop. You are the son.

This is where faith to move mountains becomes everyday reality, not a special-occasion trick. The same faith that receives healing receives prosperity, receives authority, receives joy that the world cannot manufacture. By faith you save yourself from double mindedness. By faith reality obeys you because the Sovereign God who upholds all things has placed His word in your mouth. You do not scrape together faith by human effort; you assent to what is already true. The promises are not waiting for your perfection—they are waiting for your confession. You are the promises of God. Test yourself: are you walking in your new identity? Do you approach the throne like a nervous waiter or like a prince who knows the King delights to give the kingdom? The answer is not in your feelings; it is faith in your confession.

Heaven throws better parties than any pig-pen after-party ever could: the Father is not keeping score. And if He is keeping score it is keeping score on the righteous score sheet given to you through Jesus.  He is popping the champagne while you are still rehearsing your apology speech. Maturity looks like you receiving the ring, the robe, the sandals, and then throwing your head back and laughing with the joy that only sons know. You belong at this table.

Some will read this and feel a twitch of resistance—old religious programming whispering that you must earn the seat. That is the servant mentality trying to sneak back in through the side door. Kick it out. God’s Word is our theology, our doxology, and our apologetic. It attacks the central weakness of every defective view: the lie that man supplies God. We do not. He supplies us. The same unstoppable power that created the world out of nothing now creates fresh confidence in your heart on the occasion of His word, separate from anything you feel, observe or achieve. That is occasionalism at work in the life of faith—God directly causing the knowledge and the assent, every time.

So head held high, son. The Father is already running. The robe is draped. The ring is on. The banquet is served. Stop acting like you are still mucking out the pig pen when the banquet hall is calling your name. The Spirit has searched the deep things and handed you the menu: everything is yours in Christ. Understand what God has freely given you. Receive it. Confess it. Live it. The party is for you, and the Father is grinning wider than the table because His son is finally home—head held high, heart full, future exploding with glory.

This is maturity. This is the gospel. This is you.

Why Are You Afraid?

It was a real storm. Waves crashing over the boat. Disciples thinking, “We’re toast.” Jesus? Snoozing like it’s nap time. They wake Him in panic: “Lord, save us! We’re drowning!”

His reply? “Why are you afraid? You have so little faith!”

Then one word from Jesus and the wind and waves shut their mouths. Dead calm.

Humanly speaking, from a starting point of empirical observation, yeah, fear made sense. However, it only makes sense if you are without God and your worldview is human limitations based on human observation. But here’s the punchline they missed—and we can miss too if we are not watchful: you’re not just human anymore. That old man is dead and gone. You’re a child of God, blessed with Abraham’s blessing (Galatians 3:13-14), baptized into the same authority Jesus carried. You carry the Name that makes demons flee, sickness bow, and creation obey. That changes everything.

Picture it: you look up and a tornado is dropping on your house. You cry out, “God, help! Can’t You see I’m about to die?!” And Jesus opens a window to heaven and looks you dead in the eye—in front of your family and friends—and says, “Bro… why are you afraid? Don’t you have any faith?”

Ouch. Here is a question. Would you still follow Him if He rebuked you like this? I mean, Jesus didn’t even acknowledge your intense feelings; rather, Jesus was dismissive of them as stupid. The man Jesus is telling you to calm your emotions down. He says your faith is pathetic; and it is the cause of your fear. Because He’s the same yesterday, today, and forever. That same rebuke is also coming to you when you face a deadly storm or deadly whatever it is. He’s not being frank for mean’s sake—He’s reminding you of your identity in Him.

Here is the kicker. This is before the book of Acts, where we see the matured Peter, baptized in the Spirit and knowing his true identity in the enthroned Jesus, not merely the earthly Jesus, saying in Acts 3, “What I do have, I give, in the Name of Jesus. Get up.” He had the privilege, not as an apostle but as a believer, to use Jesus’ name to do what he so wanted. It was something Peter had and could give as he so wanted. But in the context of the storm, it is before the enthroned Jesus and the baptism of the Spirit. So what was Jesus presupposing to rebuke them for fear?

Psalm 91 specifically says that those who are hidden with God are not to have any fear. The Psalm lists all sorts of dangers and saying you are not to be afraid of them, then gives a situation like a bomb goes off and ten thousand dead bodies surround you, and even this is nothing to fear because God will protect you. The Psalm is not saying for you to bear the pain and destruction of the thing you fear, under the hand of God. No, it confesses you will be protected from them and nothing will touch you.

However, what we have in Jesus, in His promises to ask anything and get it, to do greater works, to speak to mountains and make them obey us, and the baptism of the Spirit with Jesus sitting at the right hand of power is greater.

Jesus’ presupposition is average, not wild: He expects you to stand up, speak to that “deadly” thing, and tell it to chill out and shut up. Because you’re special, a co-heir with Jesus and a royal priest with royal authority to use Jesus’ authority; because the promises already belong to you. Faith isn’t wishful thinking—it is agreeing with God that protection is your legal right to command the mountains to bow.

So next time the waves hit, skip the unbelief panic party. Believe Jesus and rebuke the wind. That’s your new normal as a Christian.

Let me press this deeper because Jesus’ question cuts straight to the heart of our new reality in Him. The disciples saw crashing waves and felt the boat filling with water. From pure human observation that fear felt right. But Jesus did not operate from observation. He operated from the Father’s word and the authority given Him. He expected the same from them even before Pentecost. How much more does He expect it from us now that we are new creations identified with the resurrected and enthroned Christ?

The problem was never the storm’s size. The problem was their little faith. They evaluated the situation from the old human point of view that Paul later condemns in 2 Corinthians 5:16-17. “So we have stopped evaluating others from a human point of view. At one time we thought of Christ merely from a human point of view. How differently we know him now! This means that anyone who belongs to Christ has become a new person. The old life is gone; a new life has begun!” The disciples had not yet fully grasped this shift. They still measured danger by sight and feeling instead of by the finished work and the promises that define us. Jesus slept because He knew reality submits to a man with faith, and it must obey the word of faith. When He rebuked the wind and waves, He was not begging the Father for help. He commanded creation directly. That is the model, and it is now ours in greater measure.

Today we have something far beyond what those disciples possessed in that boat. The old man is dead. We are new creations seated with Christ far above every storm (Ephesians 2:6, Colossians 3:1-3). The same Spirit that empowered Jesus now lives in us for greater works (John 14:12). The promises are all “yes” in Him (2 Corinthians 1:20). Psalm 1 guarantees success in everything when we meditate day and night on God’s word instead of the waves. This includes success over every storm that rises against us—literal or figurative.

Yet many believers still live like those pre-Pentecost disciples. A medical report comes like a sudden gale. A financial crisis hits like rogue waves. Relationship trouble crashes over the bow. And the first response is panic: “Lord, don’t You care that we’re perishing?” Here comes the frank truth—Jesus is still asking the same question: “Why are you afraid? You have so little faith.” He’s not being harsh. He’s being precise. Fear is unbelief wearing emotional makeup, trying to look spiritual while denying every promise God has spoken. It confesses that circumstances are bigger than the promises. It denies that you now carry the authority to speak to mountains and have them obey.

The correction is simple and powerful. Stop focusing on what your eyes see and your body feels. Relentlessly fix your mind on who you are in Christ and the promises that define you. You are the righteousness of God. You are seated far above every storm. The authority to say “peace, be still” belongs to you because it belongs to Him and you are in Him. Jesus did not just start your faith—He is faithful to finish it (Hebrews 12, 1 Corinthians 1:30). Your job is agreement. Speak the word.

This is your new normal. The storm no longer gets a vote. Faith does. When the next wave rises—and it will—remember Jesus’ question. Then give Him the answer He is looking for: bold agreement with His promises that proves great faith. The wind is waiting. Creation is listening. Your words, rooted in His promises, carry the same power that once calmed Galilee.

The disciples were basically giving Jesus a one-star review on the “Miracle Uber” app while He napped through the whole crisis. Meanwhile He expected them to realize the storm was the one that needed to submit. That same expectation lands on us today with even greater force. We are not evaluating Christ from a human point of view anymore. We know Him now as the enthroned King whose Name we carry. Every storm must answer to that Name when we speak it in faith.

So let the storm throw its tantrum. You have the remote control now. Open your mouth and give the same order Jesus gave: “Peace, be still.” The waves will obey because they already obeyed Him, and you are identified with the resurrected Christ who finished the work. Fear has no place here. Faith has the final word. This is the brilliant life God has given us.

God Took My Son!

Uh..no, He didn’t

Jesus already took care of all the bad stuff once and for all (Acts 10:38)—things like sickness (Isaiah 53), sin (Isaiah 53), poverty (2 Corinthians 8:9 and 9:8), and every curse (Galatians 3). In exchange, He hooked us up with riches, righteousness, healing, and the full blessings of Abraham’s gospel! So when someone says about a Christian who left this earth too soon (before that long, satisfying life we’re promised, Psalm 91, Abraham’s gospel), “God took my child” or “God took my spouse”… they’re missing the mark. If that person was truly in Christ, God “received” them with open arms, sure, but He didn’t “take” them from you. The real culprit who did the taking was Satan, using the curse and unbelief as his sneaky weapons of choice.

Quick reminder: the only truly unforgivable sin is blasphemy against the Holy Spirit. And even though healing is a straight-up command (James 5), just as believing the gospel is commanded, and Jesus straight-up invited us to pray for anything we want and actually receive it—failing to get healed is not the unpardonable sin. Thus, if you died before your time, because you sinned by not having faith to get healed, it is not the unforgivable sin. A Christian can die sick and still be saved. But let’s be crystal clear: it wasn’t God who cut their time short. It was Satan and unbelief that opened the door. Taking your health and life is Satan’s priesthood, not Jesus’. Premature death is Satan’s middle finger at Jesus’ atonement. Jesus is not flipping the bird at his own gospel; that’s Satan’s job.

Because here’s the deal: our God is the Giver, not a Taker. It is correct, in a broad sense of God’s ultimate causality, you could say God “takes away,” but in relationship to His elect? Jesus stood in our place so that the Father “takes away from Him,” so that God doesn’t “take away” from us. God took away health, love, wealth, every good thing from Jesus; and finally, the Father took away Jesus’ very life. That’s the whole point of substitution. God did some taking from me, but it was at the cross. Jesus was substituted to let God take away from Him, so that God now only gives to us. That’s how the gospel of substitution works.

Look at the cross again, because the atonement is not some fuzzy feeling—it is a precise, legal exchange sealed in blood. Isaiah 53:4-5 declares, “Surely he took up our pain and bore our suffering… and by his wounds we are healed.” The Hebrew word for “took up” and “bore” is the same one used for the scapegoat on the Day of Atonement: the priest laid the sins on the goat, and the goat carried them away into the wilderness. Jesus carried our sicknesses away the exact same way. He became poor so we could become rich (2 Corinthians 8:9). He became a curse so we could receive the blessing of Abraham (Galatians 3:13-14). In the mind of the sovereign God, the transaction is finished: all the bad is gone from us, all the good is credited to us.

To turn around and say “God took my child or spouse” after that is to spit on the finished work and act as if the cross never happened.

On the relative level where the Bible mostly speaks to us day to day—God relates to His covenant children as a Father who supplies, not a cosmic leg-breaker. Peter tells us in Acts 10:38 that “Jesus… went around doing good and healing all who were under the power of the devil.” Satan is the one oppressing with sickness; Jesus is the one delivering. When Paul handed the incestuous man over to Satan for the destruction of his flesh (1 Corinthians 5), who did the destroying? Satan. When the woman was bent over for eighteen years, who did Jesus blame? Did Jesus blame God’s sovereignty? No. He blamed Satan (Luke 13:16). When Job suffered, who brought the boils? Satan. God sovereignly permitted the trial in the ultimate sense, but on the human level He never ministered the evil—Satan did. And Job was without a Contract with God, and thus there is much with respect to Job that is not relevant to me. The New Contract flips the script entirely. God is now our Exceedingly Great Reward who only pours out good.

Thus, to say “God took my child,” is a sin.

So yes, if you are not healed by faith, you are sinning by not getting healed, just as you are sinning if you do not get wisdom by faith. James says if you lack wisdom, ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you (James 1:5). But then he immediately warns: the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind, and should not expect to receive anything from the Lord (James 1:6-7). Notice the logic here—deductive, airtight, no wiggle room. God commands supernatural wisdom to be imparted directly by Him when you lack it. This is not self-generated insight scraped together from your own brain; it is God pouring it in by faith. If you ask while doubting, you have disobeyed the command. The act of asking becomes sin because faith is required, not optional. The same ironclad pattern holds for forgiveness. Paul declares in Acts 17:30 that God “commands all people everywhere to repent.” Repentance is not a half-hearted shrug or emotional tears mixed with lingering doubt; it is turning in full intellectual assent to God’s promise of pardon. If you confess your sins while secretly doubting the Jesus’ finished work to cleanse you right then, you have sinned in the very act of confessing. Even if you tried “really hard” to believe, the moment doubt creeps in you have violated the command. There is never an excuse for not obeying God, period. Faith for forgiveness, healing, wisdom, or wealth is not a suggestion tucked in the back of the Bible like some optional devotional—it is a direct order from the throne.

Thus, it is a sin to die sick. It is even a sin to say “God made me sick, or God took my child,” if the context is about your faith in God’s promise. The bible presupposes and appeals to the law of identity, when Paul explained that grace is grace and works are works, and grace is not works and works is not grace. When the Bible is talking about one category A, but you keep bringing category B into category A’s context, then you are twisting and mishandling the word of God, and thus you are sinning. The bible denies pantheism, and so the category of God and creation are not the same. Even if there is a necessary connection between an antecedent to a consequent, the category of the one is not the same as the other.

Jesus both made comments about God’s absolute and direct sovereignty over all things (the ultimate level—“you are not my sheep” in John 10) and also talked about the relative level, saying “your faith saved you from your sins, and your faith healed you of your sickness” (Luke 7:50, 8:48). Because all material blessings first start as spiritual blessings (God is Spirit and we already have all spiritual blessings in Christ, Ephesians 1:3), and because God’s sovereignty is ultimate over the relative level, you can always answer any question with a spiritual or sovereignty-based answer, no matter the context. But—and there is a big but here—if the context is the category of relative level or the material level, and you keep dragging in the spiritual or ultimate level, you are sinning. At the very best you are misleading or more likely, you are twisting and abusing the word of God to justify your unbelief.

Think of it like this: mixing water with motor oil does not make your engine run on miracles—it just wrecks the car and leaves you stranded. Theologians and pastors commit these category errors constantly, and it is not cute; it is dangerous. They take the ultimate metaphysical truth—God decrees all things—and shove it into the relative context where the Bible commands us to resist Satan and receive healing by faith. That is not clever theology; it is deductive failure dressed up in pious robes. It violates the law of identity: the promise of healing is not the same thing as the decree of sovereignty in the way the Bible applies them. It violates non-contradiction: you cannot say “God sovereignly made me sick” in the same breath as “by His wounds I am healed” without turning Scripture into a contradiction. And it commits the fallacy of the undistributed middle—treating the ultimate cause as if it erases the relative command by having no necessary connection to it. Result? Believers sit passively while Satan robs them, thinking they are being “God-centered.” No. That is unbelief with a religious accent.

Let me illustrate. The centurion in Matthew 8. He understood sovereignty better than most theologians: “I am a man under authority… just say the word and my servant will be healed.” Jesus marvelled and declared, “I have not found such great faith in Israel.” The centurion did not say, “Well, God sovereignly decreed the sickness, so who am I to ask?” He applied sovereignty to receive an immediate miracle. Second, Peter on the Day of Pentecost. He preached election and predestination, then immediately commanded repentance so people could receive the baptism of the Spirit and forgiveness. He did not blur categories; he used the ultimate truth of God’s call to fuel the relative command to believe and be filled with power. Third, Jesus Himself with the woman bent double for eighteen years (Luke 13). He said, “Woman, you are loosed from your infirmity,” and then explained it was Satan who had bound her—not the Father. He healed her on the spot and rebuked the religious leaders for their unbelief and tradition. Jesus never once comforted anyone with “God made you sick for His glory.” He smashed sickness because it was the enemy’s work.

So tell me… are you finally catching what the gospel is really all about? Stop letting bad theology turn the Father into a taker. Jesus took the taking. Now the Father only gives. Reclaim what the enemy stole—by faith, by command, by the finished work of Jesus. Your loved one who died in Christ is safe in the Father’s house, but the years stolen from you and them were never God’s doing. They were the devil’s heist. Repent and correct yourself. Direct your anger at Satan and his perverted theologians who sell the theology of unbelief that killed your family member. Rise up. Resist. Receive. The gospel is total victory, and faith still moves mountains—including the mountain of premature loss.

The cross was not a partial deal. Jesus did not bear 90 percent of the curse and leave 10 percent for you to carry “for God’s glory.” No. He bore it all. The same love the Father has for the Son, He has poured into you (John 17:23). That love does not take; it gives. That love does not shorten life; it commands abundant life. Stop saying “God took” and start declaring “Satan tried, but Jesus already won.” Then watch the same power that raised Christ from the dead flood your body, your family, and your future. Because that is what the atonement already secured and deposited into your account by grace.

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 the idea of “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’ poverty 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.