Category Archives: christian soteriology

Sad Sob Story VS faith

When that Gentile woman came to Jesus with her demon-possessed daughter, she hit Him with the full sad-sob-story package. Heart-wrenching details. Desperate pleas. “Lord, help me!” She begged like her life depended on it. But it didn’t move Him. Not one inch.

I mean, wasn’t Jesus moved with compassion to heal the crowds and feed the multitudes?

Jesus didn’t heal her because the story was tragic enough. He didn’t heal her because she sounded sincere or because He felt extra compassionate that day. Some might say compassion alone always gets the job done. Not so. Unlike the Arminian fools who deny God’s sovereignty, remember this: God can move independently of us and our faith. The atonement of Jesus is one big story of God sovereignly working to show compassion to people who are unworthy and didn’t even ask for it. God can show compassion without anyone asking in faith—such as when Jesus healed the man at the pool. However, it’s a lottery-type situation. If you’re desperate to be helped or healed, merely waiting on God to sovereignly show compassion is like waiting on the lottery. That’s not the way.

God has always moved independently of us and always will—at the ultimate level. But in the relational context of His promises and commands, we must do what God commanded. He commanded faith.

Think hard about this: Jesus had plenty of compassion back in His hometown, yet unbelief locked the door and left people sick anyway. Despite His compassion, Jesus Christ walked away from His hometown with hurting people moaning in their beds and desperate hearts hoping for help.

Back to our story. What finally moved the King? The rarest thing on planet Earth: faith. Real faith. The kind that grabs God’s promises and refuses to let go. She didn’t whine with a sob story. No—she made an argument from faith, believing He was faithful to His Word. “Woman, great is your faith!” And her daughter was delivered.

Same scene, different woman: the one with the twelve-year issue of blood. The crowd was crushing in, everybody bumping and grabbing at Jesus like it was Black Friday at the miracle store. They were pressed up against Him, but He walked right through them until one touch stopped Him cold.

“Who touched Me?”

Power had gone out from Him. Not from a desperate sob story. It came from faith.

It wasn’t the sad sob story that made power flow out of Jesus. It wasn’t the sad sob story that made Jesus stop and ask who touched Him. It wasn’t the begging. It wasn’t even raw compassion. Faith is what made Jesus zero in with laser focus while millions clamored for attention. Faith is what pulled divine power out of Him like a magnet.

You can feel lost in a sea of a billion faces (and trust me, there are those with far worse sob stories than yours in the crowd). So why would Jesus focus on you? The answer: Faith. If you have faith, God will give you His undivided attention, His undivided help, and His undivided power to save, lift, and bless you. Faith is the answer.

This is the wake-up call we all need: God isn’t merely moved by your tear-jerker reel or how loud you can cry, “Please help!” He is moved by faith that takes Him at His Word. There’s a way to yell “Have mercy on me” that’s trying to make God feel sorry for you—or it can be a cry of faith, knowing God already feels for you, has already provided for you, and will certainly help you. And if you already know this, you’ll find yourself naturally saying, “Sickness, I command you to leave, in Jesus’ name!”

Stop rehearsing the sad story like it’s currency, because the real currency is faith. Believe the promise, speak to the mountain, and watch the King give you His undivided attention and miracle-working power.

You can do the same—right now. Faith is still the rarest, most powerful thing on Earth. Will you be one of the special few who use it? If there was a crowd of so-called Christians, could Jesus single you out, pointing to you and saying, “Now there’s a person with faith—I keep feeling power leave Me and flow into them”? If not, today is the day to correct yourself and finally become that person.

Jesus wondered if He would find faith on Earth when He returned. The context was not about faith for salvation but someone who kept praying in faith until they get what “they want.” Be one of those people Jesus is pleased to find when He comes—because you are a person who has faith. On that last day, look up, meet Jesus’ eyes, and say, “You questioned if You would find faith when You returned? Well, I’m still standing, Jesus! I have faith to move mountains, heal the sick, cast out demons, and faith to know that I am the righteousness of God because of You. At the very least, You found me.” Do you want to see Jesus with a sh@t eating grin of absolute joy, when He finds you? Then have faith.

Donuts & Coffee

Vol. 1

Oshea Davis
2026

Table of Contents

*1 He gives and takes away.

*2 God Took My Son!

*3 Why Are You Afraid?.

*4 Aim for the Stars and Faith Will Make You Hit Them!

* 5 Your Fame is the Gospel’s Priority.

*6 Head Held High.

*7 Theological Gaslighting.

*8 Jesus’ Real Test for Orthodoxy Isn’t What You Think.

*9  Belly Crawlers.

* 10 Mystery Box.

*11 It’s Not Hard to Believe.

*12 A Little Homemade Sacrifice.

*13 Not Your Eyeballs.

*14 Proof Your Insides Are Clean.

*15 Storm The Throne Room..

*16 Be Patient Cop-out

*17 But Here’s The Gut-punch.

*18 Rebuke Like The Book Says.

*19 Existence Exists.

*20  Shadow It & Be Done With It.

*21 Carnal Cheeseburgers.

*22  Set Apart For God.

*1 He gives and takes away

Yeah, at the ultimate ontological level it’s straight facts. By His Word alone everything is created and holds together (Colossians 1:17). No rival power exists. God forms light and darkness, peace and calamity (Isaiah 45:7). Sovereign over it all—no debate, no committee.

But watch this: when the same God promises to define a slice of His creation a certain way, because He is truth and the law of non-contradiction, it slams the door shut on exceptions or alternatives. He does what He says.

The gospel is finished. Jesus didn’t leave a tab open. To take away bad and give good, is the whole point of substitutionary atonement. Think about that. He took the sickness, wiped the sinful record clean, crushed every besetting sin, absorbed the poverty, fixed the broken relationships, and pulled us out of obscurity. He became the curse so we could walk in the blessing (Galatians 3:13; Isaiah 53:4-5; 2 Corinthians 8:9). So yes, God takes away, but He did so in the atonement, so that He can forever give good to you.

For His kids, “gives and takes away” flips the script, because the whole point of substitutionary atonement is to for God to take way bad  and give good. In Acts 10:38 the Spirit defines sickness is bad and healing as good. Thus, God does not give you sickness; that’s Satan’s priesthood. The taking away is reserved for the junk—disease, lack, shame. The giving is nonstop: righteousness, divine healing, supernatural wealth, Holy Spirit power, answered prayers that hit like lightning, and miracles that make the devil file for unemployment.

So next time someone waves Job around like it’s your contract, just smile and say, “Wrong contract, bro. The Lamb already paid it in full.” Now walk in what’s yours. Jesus already did the taking from you in the atonement, and he took all your bad, all your sins, all your curses and all your sickness.  He already did the giving in the atonement; giving you all the good, both now and forever. The God who gives and takes away has already decided—and He decided for you. 🔥

*2 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. 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), 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. 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! Sure, in a broad sovereign sense you could say God “takes away,” but for 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 works.

My old man died with Jesus, and so in this sense, God did take my old life… but that transaction already happened at the cross in Jesus. That old man is dead and gone! A new man lives. And this new man is the recipient of the other side the substitutionary atonement; God only gives good to this new Oshea, he does not take.

That’s the beautiful point of substitution: Jesus took the hit so you wouldn’t have to experience God “taking” from us, because He let the Father take from Him. In exchange, God now only wants to pour every good thing into your life.

So tell me… are you finally catching what the gospel is really all about?

*3 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, then 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?”

Och! 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, it is the case of your fear. Jesus says your emotions of fear is not acknowledged or wanted by God. 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 mean for mean’s sake—He’s reminding you who you are.

Jesus’ presupposition is wild: He expects you to stand up, speak to that “deadly” thing, and tell it to chill out and shut up. Not because you’re special, but because the promises already belong to you. Faith isn’t wishful thinking—it’s your legal right to command the chaos.

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.

*4 Aim for the Stars and Faith Will Make You Hit Them!

It’s wild how even Christians have swallowed the lie: “Aim low and call it humility.” Most folks grab their God-given dreams, load up a shotgun with birdshot, and blast just past their own feet. Boom—they hit dirt. Then they high-five themselves like they just conquered the universe. “Look at me, suffering under God’s sovereign hand!” Meanwhile half the pellets ricochet and smack them in the face. Newsflash: Scripture never throws a parade for dirt-aimers.

Flip open Hebrews 11. The heroes didn’t point at their shoes—they locked eyes on the stars and let faith launch the arrow straight to Orion’s Belt. Take that Roman centurion, the ultimate outsider. Jesus had already said His focus was Israel first. Ground level was all the man “should” expect. Nope. He marched right up, stared Jesus down, and fired at the moon: “Just say the word and my servant will be healed.”

Jesus didn’t sigh and say, “Bro, one miracle at a time.” He was astonished. “I haven’t seen faith like this in Israel!” The centurion didn’t stop there. While the first miracle was still mid-air, he upgraded the request—right there, no distance, no delay. Jesus grinned and publicly bragged about him.

Here’s the doctrine, straight up: The higher you aim, the more God likes it. Faith doesn’t cap your requests; it catapults them. Hit Orion’s Belt? Great—now ask for Andromeda in the other pocket. Jesus doesn’t roll His eyes at bold faith; He boasts about it before men and angels.

You can never aim too high or too often. The only mistake is aiming too low, too seldom.

So tell me… what stars are you locking onto today? Fire that arrow. Faith’s got the velocity.

The stars never looked so good, nor so close.

* 5 Your Fame is the Gospel’s Priority

One of the major things God promised Abraham was to make “his” name great—not just to hype His own fame (though Abraham’s elevation would glorify God too). “I will make your name great,” the Lord straight-up declared (Genesis 12:2). Boom. Direct promise.

Through the Gospel of Jesus Christ—who took our curse upon Himself and redeemed us from it (Galatians 3:13)—we’ve inherited that exact same Abraham’ package! Christ became our cures, as a substitute, to give us the gospel of Abraham.

The full Gospel isn’t just forgiveness of sins (which is more technically the doorway to the gospel); it includes God making “your” name famous on the earth. Fame, favor, and footprint are baked into the blessing of Abraham we now own by faith.

Dying unknown, in total obscurity and absurdity? That’s no holy humility badge—that’s a curse straight out of Satan’s playbook. It’s the ministry of his dark priesthood, the thief who comes to steal your fame, rob your health and wealth, kill your destiny, and destroy your impact (John 10:10). He loves keeping you small so the world never sees the Royal Priesthood in you.

As Vincent Cheung points out in Our Prosperity in God’s Program, “ Receive things from God for your own benefit. If it stops there, God is honored because he has blessed one person. You can then consciously participate in the expansion of the kingdom of God. However, even if you do not concern yourself with the situation any further, you will naturally further God’s program. He will take this and increase the effect to benefit more people and to magnify himself with it. Just by receiving from God for yourself, more and more, again and again, you will do more for God than the counterfeit Christians who seem to suffer much for their religion, but who refuse to receive from God and forbid others to receive. They hinder the gospel and bring shame to the name of Jesus.”

Even if we were only focused on our own fame, by faith in Jesus, it will always have indirect effects is magnifying God’s kingdom. Thus, it is good to the fame God promised in Abraham’s gospel, when is given to us in Jesus’ gospel. The gospel preached to Abraham was about his fame, his wealth, his health and him being highly favor in all he did, and not God’s. The gospel has many aspects about it that are concerned with your fame and increase, not God’s. As Paul said in 1 Corinthians, 2:7, the gospel was predestined for your glory.  Because we deny pantheism, thus, directly referring to these aspects of the gospel that helps, increases and blesses the elect, the gospel is for our glory not God’s. Now of course God as designed it so that our glory and increase ultimately glorifies God. This is gospel. Without it you don’t have the gospel.

Once you are walking in faith, health, wealth, answered prayers and miracles, you will find you stop thinking about yourself, because you are doing so well, and all fear and stress to climb up are gone, and this freedom will lead you to show compassion and help others. Seeing your own hearts desires come into reality will help and free you to say, “God you have blessed me so much, I want more directly focus on expanding your Kingdom against the remaining darkness. How can I help?” The point is simple. Simply by receiving the good things promised, such as health and wealth, you expand God’s kingdom. Anything done in faith, no matter what it is, establishes God’s kingdom more and more. On this point alone, receiving miracle health and miracle money for yourself, still establishes God’s kingdom.

By seeking your own fame and increase in faith, you directly bless yourself, your family and friends.

This is why I remind us: How little the faithless value the Gospel and God Himself. They think so small of themselves and then force the promises of God through the tiny pinhole of their limited self-view. But newsflash—you are “not” the measurer of reality. God and His promises are!

We must measure our ability and destiny by God’s Word and our new identity in Christ Jesus: Abraham’s seed, co-heirs with the King, destined for greatness. Stop playing small, saints. Let the Father boast about you. Step boldly into the fame He promised and make some divine mischief for His glory! 🔥

*6 Head Held High

Maturity isn’t you scraping together some spiritual tip to hand God like a nervous waiter at the cosmic buffet. Nah. Maturity is you, as a full-blown son, leaning back and receiving every endless, jaw-dropping blessing He’s already dying to unload on you (1 Corinthians 2:6-12). The Spirit isn’t some vague vibe; He’s the insider who searches the deep things of God and shouts, “Hey kid, this feast is yours—dig in!”

Picture the prodigal kid. He finally drags himself out of the pig pen. Most of us stop there: “Sorry, Dad, I’ll be your servant now.” But real maturity? That’s when God’s Spirit pumps iron in your soul so you don’t just limp home begging scraps. You stand tall, eyes locked on the Father, and let Him slide the signet ring on your finger—full authority, baby. He drapes the BEST robe over your shoulders—righteousness that screams “I belong here.” He buckles the sandals on your feet—so you can 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’re not a guest. You’re the son. You’re the prince. The party is for YOU. Paul says the gospel was predestined for your glory!

And here’s the fun part (because heaven throws better parties than any pig-pen after-party ever could): the Father’s not keeping score. He’s not waiting for you to “earn” the fatted calf. He’s already running toward you with arms wide, robe flapping, ring ready. 1 Corinthians 2:12 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. Just pure, ridiculous generosity.

So stop tip-toeing around like you owe the King rent. 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. Act like it. Grab the blessings. March in. The Father’s already popping the champagne.

*7 Theological Gaslighting

To stay at the foot of the cross is to functionally deny the Resurrection and the Ascension. “Gospel-centered” movements? Come on—they’re straight-up theological gaslighting dressed in pious robes. They use shiny Christian lingo to trap believers in spiritual poverty and powerlessness, like it’s some noble virtue.

The “Gospel” isn’t a dusty historical biography of a dead man hanging on a tree. It’s the current, active decree of an enthroned King who’s very much alive and ruling right now. A theology that fixates on the bloody mess of Calvary while ignoring the present “occupied throne” is nothing more than a dead man’s religion. It’s like showing up to the victory party and obsessing over the scar from the battle that was already won—comical, if it weren’t so tragic.

If Christ is enthroned and we are “seated with Him” (Ephesians 2:6), then the benefits of the atonement—including physical healing and material provision—aren’t optional extras or “maybe someday” blessings. They are your legal rights as a co-heir, paid for in full. Jesus became sin so you could become righteousness. He became a curse so you could walk in blessing. He bore your sicknesses so you could walk in divine health. He became poor so you could be rich. That’s not prosperity hype; that’s Isaiah 53, 2 Corinthians 5:21, Galatians 3:13-14, and 2 Corinthians 8:9 screaming at us from the page.

Cross-centered theology is vile precisely because it weaponizes the cross as a shield to protect unbelief. By obsessing over the suffering, these theologians explain away zero miracles, unanswered prayers, and powerless Christianity as “God’s sovereign will to suffer.” Doctrine of demons, plain and simple. It’s a sophisticated way to remain an atheist while still using Christian vocabulary—trading the tangible power of the living Christ for historical sentimentality and a permanent pity party.

To fix your gaze on Calvary, is to fix your eyes where Jesus is not. And it is precisely this reason why the faithless keep a cross-centered view, because it keeps them from having to look Jesus in the face. They don’t like Jesus. They don’t want to lock eyes with Him, and they will teach you to practice their unbelief. Hebrews says for us to walk boldly with our heads held high to the throne of grace. Why? Because that it where Jesus is. We walk with our heads held high so that we lock eyes with Jesus, because we knew He loves us and wants to see us. He made us co-heirs and children of God, princes of heaven, because He loves us. He wants you to open the throne room doors and the first thing He wants to see is not the back of your head on the ground, but the white of your eyes and confident smile. The throne is where Jesus lives. There is no other way to have a relationship with Jesus, other than the one who is on the throne, not the cross.

Do you know this Jesus? There is no other Jesus, but this one.

Time to flip the script, family. The New Testament writers were obsessed with the throne, not the tomb. Cross-centered? That’s the entry door for newbies. Throne-centered? That’s full armor—advancing the Kingdom with miracles, healings, and unshakeable faith. Jesus isn’t still bleeding on a hill. He’s seated, victorious, and inviting you to rule with Him. Stop camping at the cross and start reigning from the throne. The King is alive. Act like it.

*8 Jesus’ Real Test for Orthodoxy Isn’t What You Think

“If you remain in me and my words remain in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you. This is to my Father’s glory, that you bear much fruit, showing yourselves to be my disciples.” (John 15:7-8)

That’s the test. Straight from the King. Not “Do you have the right paragraph about the cross?” Not “Can you quote the atonement correctly while sounding humble?” Jesus made answered prayer the litmus test for real orthodoxy.

James 5 spells it out: “The prayer of a righteous person is powerful and effective.” Then he drops examples—forgiveness, healing the sick, commanding the weather to stop or start. Same chapter. Same breath. The righteous man gets results because he actually believes he is righteous.

Here’s the genius (and the gut-punch): only someone who truly trusts the finished atonement passes this test. Jesus became sin, curse, and poverty so you could become the righteousness of God (2 Cor 5:21; Gal 3:13; Isa 53). When you believe that, your heart stops condemning you. You stand bold at the throne of grace and get what you ask. Sickness hears your voice and leaves. Rain hears your voice and obeys. That’s not “name it claim it”; that’s New Covenant normal.

A religious Pharisee can fake “cross-centered” language all day. He can preach Christ crucified with tears and still have zero power. But he can’t fake results. The faithless by definition fail here; because this test demands faith, not footnotes.

That’s exactly why the creeds, the seminaries, and half the pulpits quietly buried Jesus’ test. If you knew John 15:7-8 was the standard, you’d see the fraud in 4K. No power, no fruit, no answers? Not my disciple, says Jesus. Simple. Brutal. Liberating.

Make no mistake—any creed from the past that fails to include to Jesus’ own test of orthodoxy isn’t orthodox, no matter how many fanboys foam at the mouth defending it. If a theologian insists that some man-made confession is the standard of sound doctrine while completely ignoring the King’s litmus test of abiding, asking, and receiving undeniable answers, they’ve just lifted their skirt and exposed their spiritual adultery to you. Cut them out of your life. Excommunicate that influence. Wash yourself from them, lest you partake of their destruction.

So test yourself. Abide. Ask big. Watch the Father glorify Himself through you. The same atonement that made you righteous now makes your prayers unstoppable. That’s the orthodoxy Jesus demands from disciples. 🔥

*9  Belly Crawlers

Staying on the ground and plucking dirt and gravel out of your mouth is the curse God gave the devil. To live like that is to define yourself in relation to Satan, not Christ. We are not talking about legitimate persecution directly for the sake of the gospel.

When God has called us to wield His divine armor and weapons (Eph 6, Acts 1-2, John 14-15), and take ground for the kingdom of God, faith-fumblers think debasing themselves under pain, poverty, sickness, suffering and defeat is glorifying to God. I would agree such things do glorify God, if God is your mortal enemy and He hates you; in this I would concede.

If God is your friend whose Son already took away our poverty, sins, sickness and pain on Himself, as a substitute in the finished atonement, then God is not glorified. If you experience those things Jesus already took away from you, then it is not glorifying to God for you to experience them as double jeopardy.

There is someone who is glorified if a Christian does experience those things Jesus took away, and that is Satan. When Satan helps a Christian to experience the pain, suffering, poverty, sickness that Jesus already took, it is Satan’s middle finger at the gospel of Jesus Christ.

To accept pain, defeat, death, sickness, poverty, besetting sins, loneliness, as suffering under the hand of God, so that you are so humble you are face down in the gravel, means you are imaging Satan not God. To be so masochistic and humble as to find yourself spitting out dirt and gravel is the very curse God placed on Satan to be a snake. To be a belly crawler is not humility before God. To be a belly crawler is to image your father, the devil. Jesus came to destroy the works of Satan (Acts 10:38), which means He came to destroy sickness. To be so sick you find yourself bent low, is to image the works of the devil, not God.

Imagine how stupid you must be to be a bastard snake of Satan, face down in the dirt, thinking you are imaging God? You cannot even tell the difference between God and the devil and you want to school people in theology? That’s hilarious.

Look at the substitutionary atonement. Isaiah 53 says Jesus bore our sicknesses and carried our pains—by His stripes we are healed. Paul says He became poor so that through His poverty we might become rich (2 Cor 8:9). He became sin for us so we become God’s righteousness (2 Cor 5:21). All these from the same finished work! You can’t pick and choose which parts of the atonement you like. Accepting what Jesus took away is trampling that atonement.

God’s sovereignty means reality obeys His word, and by faith we command it like Jesus taught us—sickness goes, provision comes. James tells us the prayer of faith saves the sick. Stop focusing on the dirt in your teeth and lock onto the promises already yours in Christ.

Rise up, sons and daughters. Stop crawling, and Approach the throne boldly as co-heirs, with your head held high.  

* 10 Mystery Box

“Your Will Be Done” Isn’t a Cosmic Shrug—It’s Jesus-Style Obedience!

Mark 14:35 (LEB): “Yet not what I will, but what you will [God’s Command].”

John 14:31: “So that the world may know that I love my Father… just as the Father has commanded me, thus I am doing [heading to the cross].”

John 10:18: “No one takes it from me, but I lay it down voluntarily… This commandment I received from my Father.”

Jesus didn’t pray “Your will be done” like some fatalistic sigh—“Whatever, God, zap me if You feel like it.” Nah. In His own context, it meant: I will obey Your direct command. Full stop. Ontology (God’s absolute causality) is presupposed, sure—but Jesus wasn’t passively surrendering to fate. He was locking in on the command and executing it with joy.

That’s why the same Jesus who sweat blood still marched to the cross. He loved the Father by doing the command.

Fast-forward to us. When you say, “This is God’s will for my life,” don’t sound like a defeatist robot. If you’re like Jesus, it means: What exact command (or promise—which is a command) am I obeying right now?

Sick? “I’m sick, so let God’s will be done” should not mean curling up in holy resignation. James 1 commands: Ask in faith and get wisdom. James 5 commands: Pray the prayer of faith and get healed. That’s the command! So when you say “God’s will be done” over your body, you’re saying, “I’m obeying the command to receive healing and wisdom—right now, by faith!”

God’s will isn’t a mystery box you peek into hoping for the best. It’s the Bible’s commands staring you in the face. Jesus modeled it perfectly: voluntary, authoritative, commandment-driven obedience. He laid down His life on command and took it back on command.

So next time life hits—sickness, confusion, lack—don’t pray like a passive observer. Pray like the Son: “Not my feelings, but Your command be done in me.” Then stand up, believe the promise, and watch the command activate. Healing isn’t “maybe someday if God feels like it.” It’s “by His stripes you were healed” (Isa 53:5). Wisdom isn’t “I’ll suffer till God decides.” It’s “ask in faith and it will be given” (James 1:5-6).

This is the Jesus way.

*11 It’s Not Hard to Believe

I heard a song today drop the line, “It’s hard to believe.” I get the heart behind it—trying to cheer up a struggling believer and keep them standing. Sweet sentiment. But the statement itself? Straight-up wrong.

It is not hard to believe.

Despite what your circumstances scream, despite the storm, despite every feeling yelling otherwise—faith is never truly difficult for the one born from above. If you haven’t been renewing your mind, you’re neck-deep in unrepented sin, or you’re clutching wrong beliefs about God and your identity, then yeah, your experience can feel like a grind. But that’s not faith being hard. That’s just the flesh throwing a tantrum against the new creation.

Here’s the truth that flips the script: Once you’re regenerated, the most foundational worker of your faith isn’t you white-knuckling it. It’s Jesus and the Holy Spirit doing the heavy lifting. Your new creation mind has already been created in the true knowledge of Jesus. It’s done. Finished. God’s sovereign masterpiece, not your weekend DIY project.

You are not the author and perfecter of your faith—Jesus is (Hebrews 12:2). Think about that for a hot second. Is it hard for the mind of Jesus to assent to the Word of God? Of course not. Then it’s not hard for you either, because you have the mind of Christ (1 Corinthians 2:16). He authors it. He establishes it. He perfects it. Faith isn’t you manufacturing belief like some heroic effort; it’s simple assent to what God already declared true about you in Christ.

So stop buying the “faith is a daily struggle” narrative. It’s like a fish complaining that swimming is exhausting. In Christ, believing is your new normal—effortless, supernatural, and already wired into your born-from-above DNA

*12 A Little Homemade Sacrifice

Therefore, Paul quotes Moses in Deuteronomy 9:4. The word of faith tells us that Jesus is our High Priest who redeems us. He does the hard work to reconcile God and man together, so that, upon being reconciled, man might fully enjoy the lavish blessings of their heavenly Father.

“For Moses writes that the law’s way of making a person right with God requires obedience to all of its commands. But faith’s way of getting right with God says, ‘Don’t say in your heart, “Who will go up to heaven?” (to bring Christ down to earth). And don’t say, “Who will go down to the place of the dead?” (to bring Christ back to life again).’” (Romans 10:5-7)

Consider the moment you sin—or you yet again fell to that same besetting sin that keeps showing up like an uninvited guest.

Do you immediately start the mental beat-down? You replay the failure on loop, hoping the self-punishment will somehow “make it right” or at least make you feel spiritual enough to approach God. Or maybe you berate yourself just enough to earn a tiny crumb of divine approval, so your conscience will let you limp forward and ask for forgiveness.

If so, congratulations—you just offered a little homemade “sacrifice.” You just pulled Jesus down from heaven. You just yanked Him up from the grave. Again.

You turned the gospel upside down. The law says, “Do this perfectly or else.” Faith says, “It is finished. Come boldly to the throne of grace.” One demands you climb; the other declares the ladder has says you have already been teleported to the throne of grace.

Jesus didn’t leave reconciliation half-done so we could finish it with emotional self-flogging. He reconciled us completely. The Father is not up there waiting for you to feel bad enough. He is the One who runs to the prodigal while the boy is still rehearsing his sorry speech.

So do you fear God at all?

Real fear of the Lord isn’t terror that makes you perform. The fear of God says, “This God who spared not His own Son—how much more will He freely give me all things?” It’s the confidence that lets you run to Him the moment you stumble, not because you’ve punished yourself enough, but because the occupied throne of grace speaks better things than any self-inflicted guilt ever could.

Stop dragging the resurrected Christ back into your mess to die again for your feelings.

He’s alive. The work is done.

The door is wide open.

Walk in—right now—and enjoy the lavish blessings of your Father.

No more homemade sacrifices.

Only faith. Only rest. Only Him. Only regular miracles. Only faith to move mountains without fear

*13 Not Your Eyeballs

The Resurrection: Proved by Scripture, Not Your Eyeballs

“For what I received I passed on to you as of first importance: that Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures, that he was buried, that he was raised on the third day according to the Scriptures.” (1 Corinthians 15:3-4)

Paul doesn’t lean on an empty-tomb selfie, a crowd of eyewitnesses, or “history says so.” Nope. He slams it home: Jesus rose **according to the Scriptures**. Psalm 16 is all the proof you need—“You will not let your Holy One see decay.” Boom. Done. He resurrected because the Bible says so. Full stop.

Jesus’ resurrection is not proved by sensation or observation. It’s revealed by the infallible Word of God. Even when the Bible records people seeing the risen Lord, it’s Scripture’s testimony that makes those observations credible—not the eyeballs themselves. Observations are shaky starters at best. Remember the Moabites in 2 Kings 3:22? They looked at water and swore it was blood. Your senses can straight-up lie to you. Human history and “I saw it with my own eyes” make terrible foundations for truth.

We live by faith, not by sight. God’s revelation is the only reliable starting point of knowledge. Period.

This isn’t dusty theology for Sunday school. It’s rocket fuel for your everyday life. In a world that screams “prove it with evidence or it didn’t happen,” we stand unshaken because God already said it. No need to beg your five senses for permission to believe. The same Scripture that raised Jesus from the dead is alive and speaking over you right now.

So let this truth hit you fresh today: the King is alive—not because somebody saw Him, but because the Bible declares it. Speak His promises. Expect miracles. Walk in the power that raised Christ.

*14 Proof Your Insides Are Clean

I dropped the essay “The Prayer Exam: Jesus’ Real Creed of Orthodoxy.” But let’s cut the fancy historical lingo, which i used to relate to those whoes epistemology is history not the word. Let us use Biblical term. Jesus already gave us the sharper picture with His washed-cup illustration.

The religious crowd polished the outside of the cup till it gleamed, while the inside stayed rotten with greed and and unbelief. Jesus called them out: “Blind Pharisees! First clean the inside!” (Matt 23:25-26). That’s the real discipleship exam. Not a historical creedal pop quiz or impressing the gatekeepers with memorizing cross-sounding phrases. It’s a divine paternity test: Are you a child of God or still carrying the family resemblance of the devil?

But, Oshea, how does answered prayers prove you are clean, as a proof of orthodoxy? The blind man testified that God does not listen to sinners.

The proof your insides are clean? The Prayer Room Exam. You step in, pray for miracles—command sickness to leave, speak to storms, tell mountains to move—and they happen. That’s your Father answering because you’re family, supercharged by the Holy Spirit. Only a born-from-above, Spirit-empowered superhuman clears this bar. The natural man can’t fake these results, no matter how shiny his theology looks on the outside.

Even if you’re genuinely saved, immaturity or bad doctrine can make you flop the exam right now. Get in the closet, feast on the Word, renew your mind, and grow. Jesus grows His kids.

But the faithless theologians and pastors strutting in positions of authority? If they can’t pass the test, they have zero business lecturing the body of Christ. Their “orthodoxy” is demon dogmatics and their cup? Inside? Still dirty. They forfeited the right to lead when they forfeited the power.

Ultimately it’s a worldview showdown. Through faith and God’s Word you see and operate in a different reality—one where asking and receiving is normal (John 15:7-8, John 14:12). The unbelieving eye sees a closed, mechanical universe where “realistic” prayers politely end with “if it be Thy will” and miracles are for yesterday.

Abide in Me. Let My words abide in you. Ask big. Get big. Bear fruit.

*15 Storm The Throne Room

Hebrews is all about Contract Theology.

How does it instruct us to apply Contract theology?

Ask—and receive! Not just ask in some half-hearted mumble, but boldly receive the material help, provision, healing, and blessings the New Contract purchased for us right now. This is how you actually do Contract theology. Don’t be the guy who stares into the mirror of God’s Word, admires the reflection of a perfected, highly favored royal son, then walks away broke, sick, or defeated like nothing happened. We must apply what we saw, or it all becomes meaningless head noise.

“Let us therefore come BOLDLy to the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy and find grace to help in time of need.” (Hebrews 4:16)

“Dear brothers and sisters, we can BOLDLy enter heaven’s Most Holy Place because of the blood of Jesus.” (Hebrews 10:19 NLT)

The writer of Hebrews doesn’t say “crawl back to the cross like a worm.” He says storm the throne room—because there’s a Man seated there, our Man, our High Priest-King, who already settled the sin issue and now rules everything for the church (Heb. 8:1). Jesus became poor so we could be rich (2 Cor. 8:9). He bore our sickness so we could walk in health (Isa. 53:4-5). The substitutionary atonement didn’t just forgive; it gave us contractual rights as sons and daughters.

The New Covenant is God’s unbreakable “I will be your God and you will be My people” promise. Our part? Faith that doesn’t just hope—faith that takes. Stop tiptoeing around the throne like you’re bothering the King. Stride in with boldness! Need finances? Healing? Breakthrough? Ask specifically and receive the grace to help—right in your time of need.

This is the victorious life: not passive spectators, but co-heirs who know how to apply the mirror. See who you are in Christ, then live it out loud.

Let’s do Contract Theology the Hebrews way—boldly approaching, joyfully receiving, faithfully applying. What need are you bringing to the throne today? Go get it!

*16 Be Patient Cop-out

Ephesians 3:20 Is NOT Your “Be Patient,” Cop-Out

I keep seeing this twisted spin on Ephesians 3:20: “God will give you more than you asked for… just be patient and trust Him.”

Bro, that’s not the Spirit talking. That’s unbelief wearing a pious mask, forcing the Bible through a filter of delay and disappointment. The faithless love doing that—shoehorning their worldview of slow-motion answers into Paul’s explosive declaration.

The way Jesus heals all those sinners in instant healing, and then combine this with His extreme faith doctrine, teaches us that patience’s for miracles is strange, abnormal and out of place.  Instant miracles is regular and normal.

It is true if you are immature, working out bad doctrine, that you will need time to renew your mind and so patience is needed. Jesus tells us to pray and never give up.

However, Paul isn’t saying “less and later,” in the context of this passage. He’s shouting that God “is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to the power that is at work within us.” Superabundantly more! Not less in quantity, not slower in timing—more and faster.

Take sickness as the test case. You pray, “Lord, heal me this week.” The carnal mind adds time qualifiers like a safety net. But Paul’s doctrine? Expect this very instant. Why? Because Jesus healed everyone instantly—blind eyes popped open, demons fled on command, lame men leaped up mid-sentence. No waiting room. No “I’ll get to it.” And Jesus said, “If you’ve seen Me, you’ve seen the Father.” God’s default timing isn’t reluctant patience; it’s immediate, overwhelming, too much power.

Right before verse 20, Paul prays your inner man would be strengthened through the Spirit so you can grasp the height, depth, length, and width of Christ’s love. That’s the key. If looking at God’s love doesn’t convince you of instant miracles and instant help, you don’t yet know His love. You need to renew your mind on what that love actually is—not some vague, sentimental “maybe someday” feeling, but the aggressive, promise-keeping, mountain-crushing force that raised Jesus from the dead.

Get that revelation down deep and your faith gets strong. Then stop hedging your prayers with doubt-filled time clauses. No more “if it’s Your will… in Your timing.” Expect instant answers because you know who He is!

Jesus never gave less or slower—why would the Father?

The God of “immeasurably more” is not slow. He’s ready

*17 But Here’s The Gut-punch

The woman bent over for 18 years—Jesus calls her a “daughter of Abraham,” and on that single fact He declares it was “necessary” for her to be healed (Luke 13:16). Not because He needed to perform a sign to prove His ministry or ink a future contract. No. It was straight-up fulfillment of the ancient promise God swore to Abraham.

That one line drops a wrecking ball on every weak theology that treats healing like a maybe-someday bonus. But stay with me—this isn’t about dismantling cessationism today. It’s about something far more personal and freeing.

Her healing wasn’t waiting on Jesus to show up. It wasn’t waiting on His earthly ministry, a special prayer line, or a new revelation. Everything she needed was already hers the moment she belonged to Abraham’s family by covenant. She had the full “yes” of God baked into her identity. Those eighteen years of staring at the dirt? Completely unnecessary. If she had simply taken the gospel of Abraham by faith in the first month, she could have stood up straight seventeen years and eleven months earlier. Jesus met her that Sabbath and fanned the spark of faith that was already available—but the promise had been hers the whole time.

Same story with the woman who bled for twelve years. She drained her bank account on doctors (huge red flag—she wasn’t seeking the Giver, she was trying to purchase what God only gives). From Eden to Abraham, the pattern never changes: God gives, man receives. Abraham didn’t negotiate or pay for the blessing—he believed. You can’t buy the gospel of Abraham; you can only receive it by faith.

She suffered until the day she heard about Jesus, reached out, and engaged the promise. Her faith saved her on the spot. But here’s the gut-punch: as a daughter of Abraham, she could have been healed the very first day the bleeding started.

Child of Abraham through Jesus—you already are and already have everything you need to be healed. You don’t have to put up with sickness. You don’t have to negotiate with symptoms or audition for what’s already yours. Faith is simply agreeing with God and receiving your true identity.

Stop suffering what you don’t have to. The promise is still speaking. It’s still “necessary.”

*18 Rebuke Like The Book Says

Yet again I heard the charismatics say it is wrong to harshly rebuke and criticize other ministers. The Bible does not teach this. This is a knee-jerk reaction from them, because of all the Reformed heresy hunters coming after them. The prophets, apostles and Jesus all harshly rebuked and cruelly criticized false teachers and ministries. We are commanded to do so.

Today I heard one of them say that you should not correct the doctrine of another minister unless you have a personal relationship with them. This is nonsense. The scripture shows the prophets, apostles and Jesus all rebuking the doctrine of those they had no personal relationships with. The command to privately confront a brother for a wrong is about personal issues and not about false doctrines.

Look, let’s cut through the fluffy nonsense. Jesus didn’t schedule a coffee chat with the Pharisees before dropping “You brood of vipers!” (Matt. 12:34). He didn’t slide into their DMs for a “personal relationship” before calling them whitewashed tombs and sons of hell (Matt. 23). Zero sugar-coating, full harsh-rebuke mode—exactly how He always rolled with false teachers. Paul named names publicly, exposed their doctrines, and told whole churches to stop tolerating that garbage (2 Cor. 11:13-15; Gal. 1:8-9; 1 Tim. 1:20). Elijah mocked the prophets of Baal in front of the entire nation. The Old Testament prophets roasted kings and false priests without a single “Hey, can we grab lunch first?”

The Matt. 18 “go to your brother privately” rule? That’s for personal offenses between you and another believer—not for public false doctrine that poisons the flock. False teaching isn’t your neighbor’s loud music; it’s a wolf in the sheep pen. You warn the sheep first, loud and clear, and also you deal with the wolf. Scripture commands us to expose, mark, and avoid false teachers (Rom. 16:17; Titus 1:13; Eph. 5:11). Love for the church demands it. Love for Jesus demands it.

The charismatics crying “be nice!” are just reacting to the Reformed crowd’s relentless persecution. Fair enough—they get hammered. But don’t let their fear rewrite the Bible. We’re not called to be polite doormats while doctrine gets torched.

Pray in tongues, stay white-hot in love for Jesus (Jude 20-21), then open your mouth and rebuke like the Book says. The elect know the power and the love of God this brings.

Let’s obey the actual commands instead of inventing new ones to dodge the heat. Fire up that rebuke game, saints—the church needs it.

*19 Existence Exists

“Stop wasting time wishing your circumstances were different. It is God who ordained them. Learn how to be faithful in every circumstance…”

Oh, let’s run that pious-sounding advice through the Bible and watch it explode like a dollar-store firework on the Fourth of July.

Hannah, just embrace the childless life and call it God’s perfect will—no temple prayers, no vows, no tears, and definitely no child. Hezekiah, when Isaiah drops the death prophecy, just roll over, die quietly, and let the grave praise Him. Jacob, quit that crazy all-night wrestling match with God; be satisfied with the blessing you already stole and shuffle on without extra blessings, you greedy, blessing-hoarding bastard. Canaanite woman, Jesus already gave you the theologically airtight “dogs don’t get the kids’ bread” argument—stop embarrassing yourself and let your daughter keep foaming at the mouth like it’s open mic night in Gehenna. Those unnamed folks lying in the street hoping Peter’s shadow would heal them? Charismatic man-centered nonsense—just moan in pain for God’s glory. Blind men causing a public scene? Shut up already and beg for coins like good little fatalists. Sinner drowning in addiction? God sovereignly ordained your birth in Adam—be “faithful” in your chains.

This isn’t exaggeration. This is sola circumstances, sola suffering, sola Satan cosplaying as deep spirituality. It’s using God’s decree as an excuse to ignore His commands.

But Jesus Himself tells the parable of the persistent widow who bugs an unjust judge until he caves just to get some peace. “Pray and never give up,” He commands. Even when God sovereignly ordains a bad situation, the ethic is not passive acceptance. The ethic is what Jesus commands: bombard heaven until it changes! The promise attached to the command is that heaven will answer and give you what you ask. That’s the faith the Son of Man will be looking for when He returns—faith that doesn’t roll over, but moves mountains, heals the sick, casts out demons, and turns bad circumstances into miraculous victory laps.

God’s sovereignty is at the same time a comfy blanket to rest under; but it’s also the rocket fuel for bold, persistent faith that tells those God-ordained circumstances to f#@k right off and hurl themselves into the sea.

The faithless love reminding us “God decreed the trial”; but honestly, that doesn’t say much. In the ultimate sense, God causes all things. So saying “God decreed, ordained, or caused X” is basically just saying “something exists.” Since, God causes all things, saying “God decreed X” is like saying “existence exists.” If you’re talking about anything at all, then yeah, it exists—even if it’s only in your imagination. It’s true, but it adds zero new information. God relates to us not through bare causality, but through His commandments and promises.

James says that because of God’s sovereignty and our lack of knowledge, don’t boast about tomorrow—you don’t know what’s going to happen. But James also says that with faith you can have certainty: God will give you wisdom if you ask, and the sick will be healed by a prayer of faith. So if tomorrow you lack wisdom or get sick, you can know for certain that with faith you will receive wisdom and be healed. The faithless twist James’ teaching on God’s sovereignty to cancel out faith and God’s promises: the very things James affirms. James uses God’s sovereignty to motivate us to pray in faith for certain results, like wisdom and healing, not to make us passive.

He also commanded us to use our faith to change the outcome (Matt 21:21, Mark 11:24, John 15:16). The mountain might be God-ordained, but Jesus commands us to speak to it, make it obey us and to get out of our way. This is the Jesus way. This is the Father’s way. And it is our way. Stop divining ethics from your pain like a spiritual Ouija board. Obey God’s commands like a good son or daughter. The command is to get healed, get a son, get a spouse, get a miracle, and get the help you need.

What “God-ordained” trials are you staring at right now? Time to pray in faith like it depends on your obedience—to make that trial shut up and die already.

Sola, Jesus’ Extreme Faith Doctrine.
Sola, obedience to God’s commands.
Sola, God Causes All Things.
Sola, All Things Are Possible for a Man with Faith.

*20  Shadow It & Be Done With It.

Jesus healed all who came to Him. In Acts, those filled with faith the power of the Spirit healed all who came to them. Faith and Spirit so empowered them that even their shadows and handkerchiefs carried the healing virtue of Christ. Peter didn’t have to lay hands or preach a long sermon—his shadow was enough. Paul didn’t have to command the sick to line up; aprons that touched his skin were carried away and diseases left people, evil spirits fled. This is what I call “shadow it and be done with it.” The critics who mock “name it and claim it” preachers are dead wrong—but for the opposite reason. Name it and claim it doesn’t go far enough. When mustard sized faith and baptism of power hits you, you don’t even need to name it. Just walk by and let the shadow do the work. That’s the tangible, unstoppable authority Jesus promised His church.

Think about it. Jesus bore our sicknesses and carried our diseases exactly like He bore our sins (Isaiah 53:4-5). The same substitutionary atonement that makes forgiveness certain makes healing certain.

Peter applied election in Acts 2:38-39—repent and be baptized so that you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. The promise is for you, your children, and all whom the Lord our God calls to Himself. Election isn’t a doctrine to debate in a classroom; it’s the guarantee that if God has called you, the faith and power is yours right now to heal the sick and cast out demons. James 5:15 says the prayer of faith will save the sick and the Lord will raise him up. No maybe. No “if it be Thy will.” The same sovereignty that guarantees forgiveness also guarantees healing when you ask in faith without doubting.

Sensory thinking wants you to focus on the pain, the symptoms, the doctor’s report. That’s fleshly nonsense. We focus on the finished work. We focus on the promise that by His stripes we were healed. The baptism of the Spirit is the promise of the Father poured out that makes divine power tangible in the here and now. It’s spiritual physics—flip the switch of faith and reality obeys. You don’t beg God to heal; you command sickness to leave because the same Spirit that raised Christ from the dead lives in you.

So get filled. Get baptized in power until your shadow becomes dangerous to the kingdom of darkness. Walk down the street believing the good news that total salvation includes healing, prosperity, and authority over every work of the devil. Lay hands on the sick, send a handkerchief, or just walk by—shadow it and be done with it. Jesus healed all who came. The early church healed all who came. The same promise is for you today. Do not limit God. Believe the good news, receive it by the same faith that receives forgiveness, and watch reality bow.

*21 Carnal Cheeseburgers


Watched the 1995 BBC Pride and Prejudice again—still a delight, but that wedding scene? Oof!

The traditionalist pastor looks the couple dead in the eyes and declares, “Marriage is not the place to satisfy man’s carnal appetites.”

Bro. Did he even read the Bible before putting on the collar?

Carnal, in its basic definition means “of the senses.” God wired us with five of them and then said, “Go enjoy this creation I made for you.” And in the beginning God called all those sugar filled fruit trees and sex as, “good.”

Oneness in marriage is exactly the God-designed place to satisfy those sexual appetites—loudly, joyfully, and often. Song of Songs isn’t some polite metaphor for “Jesus and the church”; it’s an entire book the Holy Spirit titled “The Song of Songs,” celebrating hot, sweaty, sensory-overloaded romance between a man and a woman. The Bible doesn’t blush. It celebrates.

Paul straight-up tells the Corinthians: if you’re burning with lust, get married (1 Cor. 7). Not “pray it away.” Not “just think about heaven.” Get married and enjoy the orgasms.

Think about food for a second. God didn’t give us taste buds so we’d choke down nutrition like robots consuming electricity. He gave us double-bacon cheeseburgers, medium-rare ribeyes, and warm chocolate chip cookies so we’d smack our lips, say “Thank You, Father,” and enjoy the carnal pleasure without crossing into gluttony.

Picture a man holding his double bacon cheeseburger, saliva running down his chin, stomach grumbling, muttering to himself, “I’m not here to gratify my carnal appetites—I only need this for nutrition.” Lol! That guy’s an idiot. Instead, he should thank God and look forward to gratifying those carnal appetites in the right way, without gluttony.

Sex in marriage works the same way. If you’re not looking at your spouse like you look at that burger—with eager anticipation to enjoy and satisfy your carnal desires—you’re both an idiot and disobeying God’s command.

You’re not “using” your spouse any more than you’re “using” your cheeseburger. You’re obeying the Creator who invented pleasure and stamped “very good” on the whole package—and told us to enjoy it with thanksgiving.

If someone is being used, its us being used by God to obey Him by enjoying the good things He made.

The lie that marriage is only for procreation, or only for “higher spiritual purposes,” or only for “dying to self” is straight demon business. It’s the same ascetic garbage that tells Christians they should feel guilty for enjoying anything God made good.

So if you’re single and burning? The Bible’s advice is still the same: either marry and enjoy the feast, or stay single and serve with undivided focus. But once the ring is on? Go enjoy the banquet. God isn’t watching from heaven with a stopwatch and a frown. He’s the One who wrote the menu.

Carnal appetites in marriage? Carnal appetites with food?

Absolutely. With thanksgiving, in the right context, and zero shame.

That’s biblical.

And way more fun than whatever that traditionalist pastor was selling.

*22  Set Apart For God

Exodus 16:22-30.

“He said to them, ‘This is what the Lord has said: Tomorrow is a time of cessation from work, a holy Sabbath to the Lord… See, because the Lord has given you the Sabbath, that is why he is giving you food for two days on the sixth day.’” (NET)

Boom. First mention of the “Holy Sabbath” in Scripture—and it’s not a rulebook lecture. It’s God dumping so much miracle bread on His people that they could stay home, kick their feet up, and cease from work. The double portion wasn’t a cute bonus; it was the very reason the day became holy. God worked overtime so they could rest. That rest, powered by outrageous material provision, set them apart to Yahweh. It made them a cut-above every other people on the planet. Material supply made them more set apart for God. It was sanctification for them. It was holiness. Think about that.

Fools love to cancel blessings with one verse. They’ll spiritualize everything until the only thing left is “well, at least we have Jesus.” But Scripture doesn’t subtract—it stacks. Yes, in Jesus’ atonement He became our spiritual provision: forgiveness, sanctification, adoption, righteousness. Yet the first mention still stands loud and clear: God’s holy Sabbath was birthed in abundant material miracle supply. The spiritual never erases the material; it makes it greater. We get even more miracle material supply now in the finished atonement of Jesus.  

So let’s stop acting like paupers and start acting like the holy people God already calls us. Faith grabs every basket—physical miracles, financial overflow, bodily healing, emotional peace, all of it. When we receive the double (and triple) portion He’s already baked in, we cease from frantic striving and step into the rest that sets us apart.

God isn’t stingy. He’s the ultimate Over-Provider who doubles down so His kids can chill in His goodness. Let’s be true children of God and, by bold faith, obtain ALL His provisions—and in doing so become the holy, cut-above people the world can’t ignore.

Healed – Becoming What I Already Am

Reality is what God thinks and decides in His mind. You can’t get more real or tangible than that. Same deal with salvation. When God saves us, He doesn’t send out a permission slip first—He just does it. Jesus steps in as our substitute, full stop. In the Father’s thoughts, every single wrong that belonged to me gets transferred straight onto Jesus. Jesus takes the full punishment for that list because, in the Father’s mind, those wrongs are now officially His. 

Then comes the glorious swap: the Father looks at all the righteousness that belongs to Jesus and decides—right there in His thoughts—that it now belongs to me. And just like that, it does. Because God’s thoughts aren’t wishful thinking; they create reality. This wasn’t some fuzzy “maybe someday” plan. It happened in history. The Bible says so. It’s already finished, already completed, already settled in the courtroom of the Father’s mind.

When God gives me faith (Ephesians 2), He’s creating something brand-new in me. Faith isn’t me twisting God’s arm—it’s God letting me in on what He already pulled off, then causing my heart to shout, “YES!” The lights flip on. Suddenly I see the receipt stamped “PAID IN FULL” in Jesus’ blood. That enthusiastic “yes” to what God already did? That’s faith. It’s God’s own yes echoing in my heart—the voice of the Spirit and my full-throated agreement with Him. God simply reveals to my heart the transaction Jesus finished long ago.

Scripture also calls Jesus our sanctification. He’s the Author and Perfecter of my faith. So even in the “become holy” department, God’s running the whole show. He’s helping me live out in my everyday actions what I already am in His thoughts—perfect, the righteousness of God. 

When I sin, I don’t shrug and say, “Welp, must be God’s will for me to stay stuck in this besetting sin forever.” Nope. I own it, reckon with the fact that I’m already righteous and already dead to sin, and remember that God wants me sanctified both by my identity in Jesus and by the commands that tell me to walk in holiness. I rest completely on God’s supernatural power—because “He is my sanctification”—while also taking practical steps until my behavior lines up with the righteous definition I already carry in Christ.

The exact same logic applies to healing. Healing is baked right into Jesus’ substitutionary atonement. He carried away my sickness like the scapegoat on the Day of Atonement. By His stripes I was healed. Jesus took my curses and handed me the gospel of Abraham: blessing instead of curse, health instead of sickness. 

Just like with sanctification, I now have both my new definition in Jesus (I am healed—sickness is Satan’s grubby fingerprints; healing is God’s good work) and the clear command to get healed (James 5:15). So if I pray and I don’t see the healing yet, I don’t sigh and say, “Guess it must be God’s will for me to stay sick.” That line mocks the blood and the finished work of Jesus just as badly as the sin-version does. No way. 

My definition in Christ and God’s command are crystal clear: I am to become in action what I already am in the mind of God. I am righteous. I am healed. When there’s a disconnect between what I’m experiencing and what God says I am, I don’t blame His sovereign plan—I own it. I call it what it is: a faith gap. Then I run back to the Word, back to the promises, back to the finished work until my everyday reality catches up to what God already decided.

And if you spot someone who preaches God’s finished healing in the atonement but they’re still rocking glasses? Your job isn’t to mock them. It’s to help them get more healing—just like you’d help in any other area of sanctification. In fact, you can treat it exactly the same way. Because healing already happened on Jesus’ body and in the mind of God, being healed is holiness. It’s being more set apart for God. Since Jesus isn’t sick, being healed means being more like Jesus. It’s actively participating in the promise and reality of His finished sacrifice. Since healing is commanded, it is holiness. If that isn’t holiness, I don’t know what is.

This isn’t complicated. It’s just consistent. God already did the heavy lifting—in His mind and in history—through the work of Jesus. Faith is simply agreeing with what He already settled. Whether it’s sin or sickness, the move is the same: reckon what God reckons, speak what God speaks, and watch your life line up with the reality that’s more real than anything you can see or feel right now. 

That’s how you walk out the healed life you already possess in Christ.  🚀

The Same Guy Who Loves Coffee

I am constantly amazed — though by now I really shouldn’t be — when Christians fight tooth and nail to convince everyone how sinful they still are. They spend precious breath and hours declaring themselves “the worst of sinners,” self-centered in defining themselves as sinners and still conscious of their sins and the flesh. Their self-centeredness would make the Pharisees blush. And the devil is having the time of his life watching it.

The only consistent thing to do is treat them the way they describe themselves. If they insist they are sinners and I am righteous, then I cannot have fellowship with that, because I am better than them — as much as righteousness is better than sin, as light is to darkness, as Christ is to the devil. Light and darkness don’t mix, and so I cannot associate with them. As Paul wrote, “We have stopped evaluating others from a human point of view… Anyone who belongs to Christ has become a new person. The old life is gone; a new life has begun… [We have] become the righteousness of God” (2 Corinthians 5:16-17, 21 NLT, LSB). “What harmony can there be between Christ and the devil?” (2 Corinthians 6:15 NLT).

“Blessed is the man who does not walk in the advice of the wicked; nor does he stand in the way of sinners; nor does he sit in the assembly of mockers” (Psalm 1 LEB).

When Paul called himself the “worst of sinners,” he was being a mascot — a living poster boy for the reach of grace. He was describing what he had been, not what he was. Paul called himself the worst of sinners, describing himself as a mascot, a poster-boy label (present tense), for what he once was (past tense); he was not saying his present reality is that of a sinner. The old man is dead. We believers are a new creation, and we have become the righteousness of God. Paul said we are blameless in God’s thoughts. Who am I to disagree with God? My sins are as far from me as the east is from the west, so I cannot see them, and they have nothing to do with my definition or identity. Nothing. Paul also said, “My old self has been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me” (Galatians 2:20).

The old Oshea — the human Oshea — died. Paul says he doesn’t even view us from a human viewpoint anymore because we are a new creation. The old human definition included being a sinner, but that man is dead. God reckons him dead, and I agree with God. The old man was crucified with Jesus. Then Paul drives it home: “I no longer live.” The old sinner doesn’t exist anymore. Now it is not a sinner who lives in Paul; it is not sin or a sinful Paul who animates his mind and flesh. No. It is Jesus who lives in Paul — both in mind (you have the mind of Christ) and even in body. The Spirit gives life to my mortal body, not sin or the curse.

The part to remember is that Paul doesn’t live anymore; rather, Jesus lives in Paul. To say Paul was still a present-tense sinner is to say Jesus is a minister of sin — and worse, that Jesus Himself is a sinner — because it is Jesus who lives in Paul, not Paul. To claim you are still a sinner is to say Jesus is a sinner. And that, my friend, is what we in the theology business call a “you just played yourself” moment. This is how foundational, common, and basic our new identity in Jesus truly is.

We are so identified with Jesus, as part of Him, that the old Oshea no longer lives — Jesus now lives in Oshea instead. What you say of me is true of Jesus, and vice versa (excluding the deity part). If Jesus is seated in the heavenly places, then so am I. As Jesus is in heaven, so am I on earth. God always gives Jesus what He asks, and so I always get what I ask. To say I am a sinner is to say Jesus is a sinner.

Stop the sin-conscience games. Confess who God says you are: the righteousness of God in Christ. Focus day and night on this identity, and watch faith explode.

Sometimes at night I’ll grab a bright flashlight and sweep the yard. Spot a deer munching my plants? I don’t just clap or yell — I full-on bark like a German Shepherd who just chugged three espressos. Works every time. The deer bolts. But here’s the question that should stop you in your tracks: Because I sometimes bark, does that make me a dog? Obviously not. I’m still the same guy who loves coffee and sourdough cinnamon rolls. Just as my barking doesn’t turn me into a canine, your sinning doesn’t turn you into a sinner.

Think about this very carefully. As Paul describes in Romans 5, it was because you were born a sinner that you sinned. After conversion, because you are righteous you now do righteous things. A sinner, at least outwardly, can do righteous acts, but it does not make him righteous — any more than my barking makes me a dog. A righteous man, even if he sins, is not a sinner, any more than I am a dog because I sometimes bark.

The deer might be confused by my brief career change, but that doesn’t change what I actually am. I never turned into a dog. I am not a dog. I am not a sinner.

And what about you? You are not a sinner. You are still the righteousness of God.

You are defined by God’s actions, not yours. Your definition and identity are what God has created you to be; your actions do not identify you. God didn’t consult your performance report before He declared you righteous; rather, He looked at Jesus’ report and identified it as yours. He didn’t wait for you to stop barking at deer — or at your own failures — before He seated you in heavenly places with Christ; rather, He chose you, He loved you; He did this without asking you about it. He just did it. He acted, He saved, He removed your sins and recreated your new reality in Christ. Faith is when God lets you know what He did, causing you to agree with Him. That’s the deal. You are righteous, and not something else. You are in Christ and Christ is in you, not something else.

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.

see related:

The Human Ministry of Jesus Empowered by The Spirit

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.

Stay At the Foot Of The Cross

To stay at the foot of the cross is to functionally deny the Resurrection and the Ascension. “Gospel-centered” movements? Come on—they’re straight-up theological gaslighting dressed in pious robes. They use shiny Christian lingo to trap believers in spiritual poverty and powerlessness, like it’s some noble virtue. The “Gospel” isn’t a dusty historical biography of a dead man hanging on a tree. It’s the current, active decree of an enthroned King who’s very much alive and ruling right now. A theology that fixates on the bloody mess of Calvary while ignoring the present “occupied throne” is nothing more than a dead man’s religion. It’s like showing up to the victory party and obsessing over the scar from the battle that was already won—comical, if it weren’t so tragic.

Scripture never leaves us stranded at the cross. The doorway of the gospel is of first importance, because you cannot enter the King’s house and dine at His table without the doorway, but it is not the whole house and it is not the table. Jesus is not on the cross. He is sitting at the throne; He is seated at the table and has given us good things there. To receive you must meet His eyes at the throne, or that is, at the table and partake. You cannot have a relationship with Jesus on the cross because He is not there. How more obvious can that be. He is presently at the throne, and the throne is part of the gospel: without it there is no gospel. The gospel is you presently engaging Jesus on the throne, walking boldly to Him on the throne as your daily fellowship with Him. Without this you have no gospel and you mock the crucifixion of Jesus as ineffective. The gospel is a packaged deal; it is both the finished cross and the present ruling Jesus on the throne pouring out the Spirit’s power and answered prayers.  

The New Testament writers were obsessed with the throne, because the throne passage was their number one quoted O.T. passage, not the tomb. Cross-centered? That’s the entry door for newbies. Throne-centered? That’s full armor—advancing the Kingdom with miracles, healings, and unshakeable faith. Jesus isn’t still bleeding on a hill. He’s seated, victorious, and inviting you to rule with Him. Stop camping at the cross and start reigning from the throne. To stay at the cross is a dead man’s religion and a zombie theology. The King is alive. You cannot talk to a corpse, but Jesus is on the throne.

If Christ is enthroned and we are “seated with Him” (Ephesians 2:6), then the benefits of the atonement—including physical healing and material provision—aren’t optional extras or “maybe someday” blessings. They are your legal rights as a co-heir, paid for in full. Jesus became sin so you could become righteousness. He became a curse so you could walk in blessing. He bore your sicknesses so you could walk in divine health. He became poor so you could be rich. That’s  Isaiah 53, 2 Corinthians 5:21, Galatians 3:13-14, and 2 Corinthians 8:9 screaming at us from the page. The cross-centered crowd loves to weaponize the suffering of Calvary as a shield to protect unbelief. By obsessing over the bloody tree they explain away zero miracles, unanswered prayers, and powerless Christianity as “God’s sovereign will to suffer.” Doctrine of demons, plain and simple. It’s a sophisticated way to remain an atheist while still using Christian vocabulary—trading the tangible power of the living Christ for historical sentimentality and a permanent pity party.

Look at the exchange the Father made in the atonement and you will see why the throne must be our center. Isaiah 53 does not stop at forgiveness of sins; it explicitly includes healing in the same breath: “He took up our pain and bore our suffering… by his wounds we are healed.” It is quote in Matthew 8 as referring to physical healing not spiritual. Paul picks up the identical logic in the New Testament and applies it without hesitation. “He who did not spare his own Son… will he not also graciously give us all things?” (Romans 8:32). All things. Not some things. Not spiritual things only. The full package was purchased at the cross so it could be released from the throne. Jesus became poor so that through his poverty we might become rich (2 Corinthians 8:9). He redeemed us from the curse of the law so that the blessing of Abraham—blessing in every area—might come on us (Galatians 3:13-14). To camp at the cross and call that “deep theology” is to rip the completion and effectiveness out of the gospel and then wonder why the power is missing. The resurrection proves the payment was accepted. The ascension proves the payment is now being disbursed from the right hand of Majesty. The throne is where the King sits and hands out the spoils of victory to His co-heirs.

The Lord’s Supper itself presupposes we are throne-centered. Jesus instituted it after the resurrection, not before. He broke the bread and poured the cup as the risen Lord, then told us to remember Him this way until He comes. The table is not at the foot of the cross; the table is spread in the presence of the enthroned King. You do not crawl to the table on your knees begging for crumbs while staring at a corpse. You sit down as a son, look the King in the eye, and partake of the finished work. The doorway (the cross) got you in, but the table is where relationship and provision happen. To keep your eyes glued to the doorway while the King is calling you to the table is spiritual insanity. It is like refusing to leave the foyer of a mansion because you are emotionally attached to the front door. That’s not merely immaturity, it is a slap in the face to the host.

This is why the New Testament writers could not stop talking about the throne. Hebrews spends chapter after chapter showing Jesus as the great high priest who has passed through the heavens and sat down at the right hand of God. Paul tells the Ephesians that God raised us up with Christ and seated us with Him in the heavenly realms so that we might display the incomparable riches of His grace. The same power that raised Christ from the dead and seated Him far above every rule and authority is now at work in us who believe (Ephesians 1:19-23). That power is power for here and now. It is the same Spirit that raised Jesus, the same Spirit that healed the sick through the early church, the same Spirit that is available right now to every believer who will believe. Faith is not a feeling. Faith is mental assent to what God has already said and already done. When you assent to the throne reality, you receive the benefits the throne releases.

Cross-fixation is vile precisely because it turns the greatest victory in history into an excuse for defeat. It takes the blood that purchased total salvation and uses it to justify half-salvation. It takes the empty tomb and pretends the tomb is still occupied. It takes the ascension and acts as though Jesus is still hanging in the air. Such theology does not honor the cross; it dishonors the One who left the cross. The cross was the doorway. The resurrection was the victory parade. The ascension was the coronation. The throne is the present reality. To live anywhere else is to live in functional denial of the gospel.

So stop the pity party at the foot of the cross. The King is alive. The table is spread. The benefits are yours by legal right. Healing is received by the same faith that received forgiveness. Provision is received by the same faith. Every promise of the new contract is received by the same faith. Do not limit God. Believe what He has already declared from the throne, confess it with your mouth, and watch reality obey the word of the King who sits there. The gospel is not a dead man’s religion. It is the power of an endless life flowing from an occupied throne. And for those who have received the free gift Jesus’ righteousness and unmerited favor, here and now, they also reign in life with Him from the position at the right hand of the Power.

The First Importance Of The Gospel

Some folks out there still treat 1 Corinthians 1:18 and 2:2 like a pair of spiritual brass knuckles, swinging them at anyone who dares point out that a lopsided “cross-centered” slogan has been twisted into an excuse for unbelief and disobedience. They read Paul’s words about the message of the cross being foolishness to the perishing and decide that any critique of a so-called cross-centered gospel must mean the critic is perishing too. They quote Paul’s resolve to know nothing among the Corinthians except Jesus Christ and him crucified, then act as if that single phrase cancels out the rest of the apostolic deposit. It doesn’t. It never did. The cross is glorious, but when the faithless use the doorway of the gospel to bludgeon gospel into a blood heap, they have become Satan’s little helpers.

Scripture never hands us a minimalist gospel; that’s the devil’s job. God’s revelation is the sole starting point for knowledge, and that revelation is a seamless, non-contradictory system. Paul did not preach a bare fact of crucifixion and then stop. The faithless love a bisected gospel because it reduces the one thing they can’t do, faith. They can’t believe Jesus and they will do all they can to make sure you follow them in their perversions. Paul preached the whole counsel that centers on Christ crucified precisely because that message, understood in its full biblical context, is “the power of God and the wisdom of God” (1 Cor 1:24). To rip the phrase out of that context and wave it like a stop sign against systematic theology, apologetics, sovereign election, miraculous gifts, or the present authority of the risen Christ is not faithfulness; it is the very anti-intellectual distortion the apostle confronted. The same Paul who said he knew nothing but Christ and him crucified went on to write thirteen chapters of dense doctrine, ethics, and correction to those same Corinthians. He reasoned, disputed, and taught the entire worldview that flows from the cross and resurrection. Anything less is not the gospel Paul preached; it is a counterfeit that leaves people sick, defeated, and emotionally broken while boasting that “this is the power of the cross.” That is not power. That is unbelief dressed up in Calvary language.

Vincent Cheung nailed this exact abuse years ago, and his words still cut through the fog better than most modern pulpits ever will. In “The Proof of the Spirit” (December 26, 2008) he wrote:

“The entire chapter of 1 Corinthians 2 has been distorted by many anti-intellectual commentators. For example, Paul says in verse 2, ‘For I resolved to know nothing while I was with you except Jesus Christ and him crucified.’ … The statement … refers to the gospel’s contrast against non-Christian thinking, and not an anti-intellectual strategy of evangelism.”

He said it again in “Remember Jesus Christ” (November 16, 2009):

 “Many people, especially those with an anti-intellectual bias, interpret this to mean that Paul did not preach an entire body of biblical doctrines, and that he was not interested in theology or in intellectual arguments, but that he only preached the ‘gospel.’ … such usage misrepresents what the New Testament means by ‘gospel.’ … although he uses ‘Jesus Christ and him crucified’ as an expression that embraced all that he preached to the Corinthians … this is only a representation (not even a summary) of what he preached, when what he preached was doctrinally much more extensive than the bare expression can convey in itself.”

And in “Theology of the Throne” (November 23, 2025) he drove the point home with surgical precision:

“If the cross becomes the sole reference point, Christianity risks degenerating into perpetual guilt and weakness, as if believers must linger forever at the site of sacrifice without grasping the triumph that followed. … We are not standing at the foot of the cross as if history had stopped there, nor are we waiting outside the empty tomb as if resurrection were the end. … A theology of the throne guards against distortions that arise from an incomplete focus.”

The same abuse shows up when people grab 1 Corinthians 15 and twist Paul’s phrase “of first importance” into another excuse to camp out at the doorway instead of walking through it. Paul opens that chapter by saying, “Now, brothers and sisters, I want to remind you of the gospel I preached to you… For what I received I passed on to you as of first importance: that Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures, that he was buried, that he was raised on the third day according to the Scriptures” (1 Cor 15:1, 3-4). The atonement and the resurrection are indeed first in importance—the doorway, the entrance, the non-negotiable foundation that gets you inside the house of God’s. But the doorway is not the dining room. The doorway is not where you sit down at the table and feast with the King. You do not build your whole life in the foyer, staring at the hinges while the banquet hall echoes with joy and power and promises kept. Paul goes on in that same chapter to thunder about the bodily resurrection, the defeat of death, the sovereignty of Christ, and the certainty that “God may be all in all” (15:28). He is not handing us a slogan to linger at Calvary or the empty tomb forever; he is flinging wide the door so we can enter the gospel, which includes the present throne life, Spirit baptism, healing by faith, mountains moved, and every promise made good in Christ.

The Lord’s Supper itself proves the point with blunt apostolic logic. Jesus commanded, “Do this in remembrance of me” (Luke 22:19; 1 Cor 11:24-25). If we were meant to stay perpetually cross-centered, locked in endless sin consciousness and weakness at the foot of the cross, then commanding a repeated supper that looks back while we press forward would make zero sense. The table presupposes we have already walked through the doorway. It calls us to remember the price paid so we can enjoy the victory won. It is a feast of triumph, not a funeral dirge. To treat the cross or the resurrection as the entire meal is to turn the Lord’s Supper into a self-flogging session that the apostle never authorized. That is not biblical piety; that is a unbelief that robs the gospel of its forward momentum and leaves believers spiritually malnourished in the foyer while the King waits at the head of the table.

Vincent Cheung saw this coming and warned against it with the same clarity he brought to the cross-centered slogan. The full gospel is never a truncated one; it is the doorway that opens onto the throne room. Anything that stops short of that full-orbed revelation—election, resurrection power today, miracle gifts, sovereign lordship over every thought and every sickness—is not protecting the gospel; it is shrinking it into something the faithless can do by human effort.

If you find yourself reaching for 1 Corinthians 2:2 or 15:3-4 every time someone says the atonement and resurrection are the entrance, not the whole house, stop. You are not defending the gospel; you are defending a half-gospel that leaves people sick, broke, and powerless while boasting that “this is the power of the cross and empty tomb.” And when they die before their time, their blood is stained on your hands. The real cross and resurrection say, “By His stripes you were healed” (1 Pet 2:24) and “All things are possible for the one who believes” (Mark 9:23). They fling open the door to the throne where we boldly approach and ask and receive. Anything that stops short of that is not the power of God; it is the power of unbelief sugar-coated with spiritual-sounding phrases.

The throne is where the story ends, not the cross or the tomb. Stop lingering at the doorway like it is the finish line. Get up, believe the full revelation, walk through, and sit down at the table with the King. That is where Jesus is. And that is the only way the cross and resurrection stay anything but empty in your life.

Your Fame is the Gospel’s Priority 

One of the major things God promised Abraham was to make “his” name great—not just to hype His own fame (though Abraham’s elevation would glorify God too). “I will make your name great,” the Lord straight-up declared (Genesis 12:2). Boom. Direct promise. No footnotes, no fine print about waiting until heaven. Right there in the covenant, God hands Abraham a destiny of renown that the world would notice. 

Through the Gospel of Jesus Christ—who took our curse upon Himself and redeemed us from it (Galatians 3:13)—we’ve inherited that exact same Abraham package! Christ became our curse, as a substitute, to give us the gospel of Abraham. The full Gospel isn’t just forgiveness of sins (which is more technically the doorway to the gospel); it includes God making “your” name famous on the earth. Fame, favor, and footprint are baked into the blessing of Abraham we now own by faith. In Systematic Theology 2025 I lay this out plainly: the Abrahamic blessings convey much health, prosperity, and favor—tangible, visible realities that display God’s power through the lives of His elect. You don’t get the half-gospel of sin-forgiveness alone and call it complete. The Spirit and miracles were part of the promise preached to Abraham (Galatians 3:14), and that promise lands squarely on us who believe. 

Dying unknown, in total obscurity and absurdity? That’s no holy humility badge—that’s a curse straight out of Satan’s playbook. It’s the ministry of his dark priesthood, the thief who comes to steal your fame, rob your health and wealth, kill your destiny, and destroy your impact (John 10:10). He loves keeping you small so the world never sees the Royal Priesthood in you. Let’s be honest: some folks wear “I’m just a nobody” like a merit badge, but the Bible never calls obscurity a virtue. It calls it defeat. Satan’s strategy is simple—keep the heirs of Abraham hidden so the nations never see what the living God can do through flesh-and-blood people. 

As Vincent Cheung points out in Our Prosperity in God’s Program, “Receive things from God for your own benefit. If it stops there, God is honored because he has blessed one person. You can then consciously participate in the expansion of the kingdom of God. However, even if you do not concern yourself with the situation any further, you will naturally further God’s program. He will take this and increase the effect to benefit more people and to magnify himself with it. Just by receiving from God for yourself, more and more, again and again, you will do more for God than the counterfeit Christians who seem to suffer much for their religion, but who refuse to receive from God and forbid others to receive. They hinder the gospel and bring shame to the name of Jesus.”

Even if we were only focused on our own fame, by faith in Jesus, it will always have indirect effects in magnifying God’s kingdom. Thus, it is good to seek the fame God promised in Abraham’s gospel, when it is given to us in Jesus’ gospel. The gospel preached to Abraham was about his fame, his wealth, his health and him being highly favored in all he did, and not God’s. The gospel has many aspects about it that are concerned with your fame and increase, not God’s. As Paul said in 1 Corinthians 2:7, the gospel was predestined for your glory. Because we deny pantheism, thus, directly referring to these aspects of the gospel that help, increase and bless the elect, the gospel is for our glory not God’s. Now of course God has designed it so that our glory and increase ultimately glorifies God. But the point remains. The gospel makes you famous. This is gospel. Without it you don’t have the gospel. 

Once you are walking in faith, health, wealth, answered prayers and miracles, you will find you stop thinking about yourself, because you are doing so well, and all fear and stress to climb up are gone, and this freedom will lead you to show compassion and help others. Seeing your own heart’s desires come into reality will help and free you to say, “God you have blessed me so much, I want to more directly focus on expanding your Kingdom against the remaining darkness. How can I help?” The point is simple. Simply by receiving the good things promised, such as health and wealth, you expand God’s kingdom. Anything done in faith, no matter what it is, establishes God’s kingdom more and more. On this point alone, receiving miracle health and miracle money for yourself still establishes God’s kingdom. 

By seeking your own fame and increase in faith, you directly bless yourself, your family and friends. This is why I remind us: How little the faithless value the Gospel and God Himself. They think so small of themselves and then force the promises of God through the tiny pinhole of their limited self-view. But newsflash—you are “not” the measurer of reality. God and His promises are! 

We must measure our ability and destiny by God’s Word and our new identity in Christ Jesus: Abraham’s seed, co-heirs with the King, destined for greatness. God will boast about you. Publicly. He doesn’t whisper your victories in secret; He puts them on display so the nations tremble and the devil flees. Stop playing small, saints. Let the Father boast about you. Step boldly into the fame He promised and make some divine power plays for His glory! 

Look, I get the pushback. Some twisted cross-centered types act like wanting your name known is selfish. Funny how they never apply that logic to wanting their sins forgiven or their bodies healed. Selective humility is just pride wearing a fake halo. The same God who said “I will make your name great” to Abraham is the God who predestined the gospel for our glory (1 Corinthians 2:7). He didn’t stutter. He didn’t say “I’ll make your name great after you spend eighty years anonymous and broke.” No—He redeemed us from the curse so the blessing of Abraham could come on the Gentiles by faith. That blessing includes the kind of visible success that makes people ask, “Who is this God they serve?” 

Think about Joseph for a second. Sold into slavery, falsely accused, forgotten in prison—yet God elevated him until the whole nation knew his name. Why? Because God works all things for our good, not for our obscurity (Romans 8:28, that promise is laser-focused on the elect who walk in faith). The devil meant it for evil; God meant it for good—and that good included fame, favor, and footprint that fed nations and preserved the covenant line. Same pattern with David. Same pattern with Esther. Same pattern with every hero of faith listed in Hebrews 11. They obtained a good report—meaning their names rang out—because they believed God for the impossible. 

So when you confess the promises, when you command sickness to leave, when you decree increase in Jesus’ name, you are being “name-it-and-claim-it,” just as Abraham did when he confessed, “I am the father of many nations,” before he was. You’re being Christians; you are being like Abraham the father of faith. The gospel isn’t a call to pretend you’re insignificant; it’s a call to realize you’re significant because of whose you are. Co-heirs with Christ means you inherit the same package. And yes, the ultimate goal is God’s glory—but God’s glory shines brightest when His kids aren’t hiding under a bushel. 

Here’s the fun part most miss: the moment you start walking in the fullness—miracle money showing up, miracle health locking in, doors flying open—you actually stop obsessing over yourself. The fear evaporates. The scramble disappears. You find it easier to not think about yourself. Suddenly you’ve got bandwidth to look around and say, “Okay, Lord, who also needs this same freedom?” That’s when the kingdom multiplies. One blessed life becomes ten, then a hundred, and then a million. Satan hates that math. He’d rather you stay “humble” and broke so the world never sees the difference Jesus makes. 

I’m not suggesting you chase fame for fame’s sake like some carnal influencer. I’m saying chase the promises like Abraham did—by faith—and watch God handle the rest. He’s the one who swore it. He’s the one who sealed it with blood. And He’s the one who will make your name great so that His name is magnified through you. 

The faithless will keep shrinking the gospel down to fit their tiny expectations. Don’t join them. Measure everything by the Word. You are Abraham’s seed. You carry royal blood. The Father is ready to boast about you—publicly, powerfully, permanently. So step up, speak up, and let the world see what the gospel really does. Fame, favor, footprint—yours for the taking.

Power Identification Theology

The Believer as Extension of the Enthroned Christ

Traditional Christianity has long framed the believer as a “sinner saved by grace”—a redeemed but still fundamentally human struggler, locked in perpetual warfare against sin, self, and circumstance. This view keeps the cross as the gravitational center: a place of ongoing guilt, repentance, and partial victory. Power Identification Theology dismantles that operating system entirely. It declares that God’s declarative perspective is reality. The believer is not a patched-up sinner limping toward heaven but an extension of the enthroned Christ—fused, seated, righteous, and incapable of the old human category. The cross was the doorway; the throne is the destination and the present address. This is not metaphor. It is metaphysical fact executed by divine revelation.

The gospel itself is defined at the root. What is that root? Jesus is not primarily the Man on the cross or even the Victor from the tomb. He is the King seated at the right hand of the Majesty in the heavens (Hebrews 8:1). The cross dealt with sin once; the resurrection installed the Davidic King on Zion (Psalm 2; 2 Timothy 2:8); the ascension released the Spirit (Acts 2:33). Hebrews calls the enthroned High Priest “the main point.” Everything else—atonement benefits, healing, dominion—is enforced from this throne room. Believers are raised and seated with Him in heavenly places right now (Ephesians 2:6). Sickness, lack, demons, and mountains are not battles to fight; they are footstools already placed under the feet of the enthroned Head, and therefore under His body.

Cross-centered theology is exposed as vile precisely because it keeps eyes fixed where Jesus no longer is. It manufactures perpetual sin-consciousness, false humility, and unbelief. Apostles quoted Psalm 110:1 more than any other Old Testament verse—dozens of times—precisely to drive the church away from the bloody pole toward the occupied throne. To linger at the cross post-resurrection is to celebrate a wedding by obsessing over the proposal while the feast is served. It turns the gospel into a somber memorial service instead of a regime-change announcement. Throne-gazers, by contrast, see the Victor looking back at them. They mirror His purity (1 John 3:2-3), approach boldly (Hebrews 4:16), and issue decrees that rearrange reality. The gospel is Jesus crowned and commanding—and you seated there with Him, laughing at the devil’s attempts to withhold inheritance.

This power flows from radical identification about reality. God does not merely forgive or improve the old human self. In His sovereign mind, that self died, was buried, and was replaced. “Anyone who belongs to Christ has become a new person. The old life is gone; a new life has begun” (2 Corinthians 5:17, NLT). When God looks at the believer, He sees Jesus—fused as Head and body, one Spirit (1 Corinthians 6:17). This is not poetic; it is creative reality. God’s thoughts sustain existence itself. He considered the old Oshea (or any believer) dead with Christ and a new creation defined as part of Jesus. That divine consideration *creates* the new ontology. Believers are therefore co-heirs, partakers of the divine nature (Romans 8:17; 2 Peter 1:4), and empowered by the same Spirit that anointed Jesus for miracles—only multiplied through a global body for greater works (John 14:12).

Because the old container no longer exists, the new creation is literally incapable of producing human works. Sin is impossible without accusing the Head of sin—an ontological contradiction. The new self cannot generate human righteousness either; both categories died on the cross. Accusations from conscience, Satan, or religious systems collapse logically: they require pretending the believer is still the old human self, which God has declared nonexistent. It is as absurd as charging a cloud with murder or expecting a rock to author a novel. Human effort, good or bad, is a category error. Works not built on this reality are burned up because they cannot be attributed to the new creation grafted into Christ. The believer’s only “work” is alignment—agreeing with God’s verdict rather than resurrecting a corpse through self-effort or guilt.

Into this vacuum, God has sovereignly gifted the flawless righteousness of His Son. Not infused gradually, not earned through law or striving, but credited wholesale as an irrevocable exchange (2 Corinthians 5:21; Romans 5:17-19). Just as Abraham believed the promise and it was credited to him as righteousness (Genesis 15:6; Romans 4), believers who trust the resurrection receive the same divine ledger. Christ became sin so that we might become the righteousness of God. When God looks at the believer, He sees the spotless, exalted Son. This is not partial or probationary; it is total, pre-dating Moses, rooted in grace alone. Doubt here is not humility—it is unbelief undermining the finished work. Maturity means owning this righteousness as naturally as one owns their own hands: “When you feel so ‘right,’ nothing can stand in your way.”

The contrast with the wrong understanding could not be sharper. The “sinner saved by grace” model breeds beggars at an empty cross—tiptoeing, repenting endlessly, scraping together partial victories while Satan mocks from the sidelines. High-Power Identification Theology produces co-regents issuing throne-room decrees. Sickness is not a test of endurance but a defeated enemy already footstooled; prayer is not pleading but commanding reality to align with the King’s already-spoken word; defeating temptation is not a old-man self-effort, but divinely empowered sanctification, with Jesus being the author and perfecter of your faith; the old self is gone, and the new is rules in life through Jesus Christ. Dominion, healing, miracles, and prosperity are not future hopes or rare exceptions—they are administrative functions of the enthroned body. The Spirit convicts the world of the single sin of unbelief in this reality (John 16:8-9). Faith simply assents to what God has already declared.

This theology demands a full system reinstall. It is not an upgrade to the old OS; it is a new kernel. Cross → Throne. Human → Christ. Guilt → Decree. Victim → Co-regent. Once installed, the old guilt loops throw exceptions, self-effort crashes, and dominion becomes the default process. The believer wakes each morning already seated above every principality, already righteous with the Son’s own perfection, already incapable of the old category. Reality follows the declaration.

This is the gospel of Jesus Christ. Because the gospel is about the “substitution,” where the “Father identified” our sins, sickness, curses and poverty with Jesus, and “now identifies” us with Jesus’ righteousness, health, wealth and blessings, the gospel is theology about identification. The gospel is about truth and reality. It is an Identification Theology. Because it identifies us as co-heirs with Jesus, one with His body, a Royal Priesthood in Him, as baptized in the same Spirit of Power for ministry and to use the name of Jesus to ask and receive, it is an identification theology of Power.