Category Archives: Extra Thoughts

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.

Pseudo-Neutrality

The Objective Believer said: “Dr. Heiser saying the quiet part out loud: we all ‘cheat.’ We all bring our presuppositions and assumptions to the table. Do we like to admit it and talk about it? Not really. It tends to remove the gravity of whatever claims or accusations we’re making in the moment. We prefer the ‘God Stamp’ so we come across more authoritative. Here at The Objective Believer, however, we encourage people to lower the RPMs, the hysteria, take a deep breath—and let’s chat.”

Oh, how tidy that sounds. Half-right, I’ll grant you; every last human being does operate from first principles, but also that no amount of raw observation can ever bootstrap this into existence. Neutrality is a myth, plain as the nose on your face. No one reasons from a blank slate. But right there, at the very moment the admission is made, the whole thing collapses into the same tired autonomous nonsense that has shipwrecked every non-Christian system since the eggheads in Athens tried to pat Paul on the head in Acts 17. Admitting you have presuppositions does not magically create a polite stalemate or a coffee-shop standoff where we all “lower the RPMs” and chat as equals. It simply drags the battle to the only ground that ever mattered: the presuppositional level itself. The real question has never been whether we have presuppositions. The real question is which presupposition can sustain knowledge, logic, uniformity of nature, or even the bare intelligibility of the sentence “we all cheat.”

Jesus had something sharp to say about eye surgery and hypocrisy. He commands the hypocrite to first remove the plank out of his own eye. Notice the interesting presupposition baked right into the command: you can remove the wrong assumptions from your own eye and then have the ability to help others remove the speck from theirs. Of course Jesus is not saying just anyone can pull this off. He is saying that believers—those born of the Spirit—are able to do it. He does not command the hypocrite to become neutral or presupposition-free. He commands him to remove the plank first so that he “will see clearly” to take the speck out of his brother’s eye (Matthew 7:5). The plank is not “presuppositions” in general; it is hypocrisy, self-deception, and the leftover autonomous rebellion that still refuses to let Scripture be the sole axiom.

Therefore, since some Christians actually have enough respect for Jesus to obey Him, they have removed the wrong assumptions from their own eyes. That means there really are Christians who can read the Bible and read others without cheating by smuggling in alien presuppositions. To slap a blanket “we all cheat” across the board is to call Jesus a liar. The bible does not say we are all cheaters when we read the bible and do philosophy. It lumps the renewed believer in with the unregenerate who still suppress the truth in unrighteousness (Romans 1:18). It denies the power of regeneration. It denies the sufficiency of Scripture. Some Christians have obeyed. They have removed the plank. They do not cheat with wrong presuppositions. They see reality as the Bible shows it because they cannot do otherwise. That is not a flaw; that is victory.

The “we all cheat” slogan is exposed as the self-refuting nonsense it always was. As Vincent Cheung writes in “The Christian’s Self-Definition”:

“You may complain that it is impossible to approach anything, including the Christian faith, without bringing to it our own backgrounds and presuppositions. This is true. But if you are a Christian, then you are a new creation in Christ—you have a new background. And if you are a Christian, then the Bible commands you to renew your mind—get a new set of presuppositions. Reorient your thinking, and enthrone Christ in your mind as the reference point by which you define yourself and everything else. Then, you will find it impossible to approach anything apart from your Christian background and presuppositions. Only then can you be assured that you have a firm grasp on your identity as a Christian.”

Spot on, and it lands like a hammer. The Objective Believer’s own statement trips over its own feet the moment it opens its mouth. It declares that all claims lose their gravity once presuppositions are exposed. That is their hidden axiom of pseudo-neutrality dressed up in humble-brag clothing. And so the claim that “all claims lose their gravity once presuppositions are exposed” loses its own gravity toward all people; it has no logical relevance to anyone. The standard applied to itself means we should treat the O.B.’s statement as without any weight and worthless. And so I encourage to do just that. If it is true, then it is false at the same time. It denies the law of contradiction that Jesus Himself appeals to in Mark 12:35-37. Cute.

Because God puts substantial innate knowledge in all of us (Romans 2:15), and this knowledge only is by God and no one or nowhere else, then by logical necessity, there is no neutral presuppositions. There is only divine revelation.

Lower the RPMs? Take a deep breath and “let’s chat”? That is precisely the fatal maneuver of pseudo-neutrality. Paul did not sit down with the Athenians for a calm exchange of assumptions. He confronted their presuppositions of idolatry, declared their ignorance, and proclaimed the true God who commands all men everywhere to repent (Acts 17:30). No deep breathing exercises. No neutral ground. Just the blazing sword of divine revelation cutting through the fog and commanding men.

The moment you pretend neutrality is even possible, you have already smuggled in the very autonomous starting point you claim to expose. It is like a thief lecturing the bank manager on security while his pockets are still bulging with stolen cash. The Objective Believer wants us all to pretend we are starting from scratch so he can keep his own starting point hidden behind a smile and a latte. But Scripture will not play that game. Regeneration does not leave you with the same old toolkit of fallen assumptions; it gives you an entirely new mind (Romans 12:2). The old man is dead. The new man sees. That is not arrogance—it is obedience. And obedience always looks like cheating to the one still suppressing truth.

So yes—admit your presuppositions. Good start. Now test them against the only foundation that cannot be shaken. Watch how quickly they fold like a cheap lawn chair in a hurricane. The Bible stands because it is divine revelation from the God. Submit to Scripture or remain in absurdity. There is no third option. And if you still want to play the “we all cheat” card after that, at least have the honesty to admit you are calling Jesus a liar while pretending to be the most reasonable guy in the room. The plank is still there, so watch out or it might smack someone in the face. Or better yet, let the Spirit and the Word yank it out.

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.

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

The Prayer Exam: Jesus’ Real Creed of Orthodoxy

“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)

“I tell you the truth, anyone who has faith in me will do what I have been doing. He will do even greater things than these, because I am going to the Father.” (John 14:12)

See also Matthew 17:20, 21:21, Mark 11:23, Luke 17:6, and a whole constellation of others.

There it is—straight from the King’s mouth. Not some footnote in a creed. This is the creed. Jesus didn’t hand us a theology pop quiz as the test of orthodoxy. Nope. He gave us a prayer exam. Answered prayer is the ultimate litmus test. You will do greater miracles than Me. Abide in Me. My words will abide in you. Ask big, get big. Boom—you’re proven Mine.

Jesus created a creedal test that only real believers can actually pass: greater works and answered prayer. The faithless cook up creeds that even their total depravity can still clear like a low limbo bar. But Jesus wrote His creed in the stars so that only the righteousness of God can reach it. Mortals design hurdles the old flesh can still hop over. Jesus built a creedal hurdle that only Spirit-empowered super-humans can clear.

Vincent Cheung nailed it: 

“Most Christians find this basic gospel doctrine very strange. Just weird. In fact, except for those associated with the “faith movement” or “word of faith” theology, it seems almost all Christians would consider this biblical doctrine outright wrong. In other words, it appears almost every person who calls himself a Christian also considers Jesus Christ a false teacher. From the intellectual perspective, and when it comes to concern for orthodoxy, the teaching is highly revealing. The controversy shows that the critics affirm an essentially non-Christian worldview. Any worldview that disagrees with the “faith confession” doctrine is not a Christ-view, and contradicts Christ’s view of reality. Thus it in fact qualifies as one test of orthodoxy.

Jesus did not think it was strange to tell a tree to die, or to rebuke a fever or a storm. This was his view of reality, and it makes perfect sense to me. It is normal for me to tell a sickness to get out or to tell a body part to change a certain way. And if someone is willing to accept it, I can do it for him. It seems rather funny to me, in fact, that a person could call himself a Christian and not live this way. This is an ordinary aspect of the Christian worldview, and anyone who calls himself a Christian should take this for granted,”
(Vincent Cheung. The Extreme Faith Teacher).

Here’s the heart of it: Jesus flat-out declares in John 14:12, “Anyone who has faith in me will do what I have been doing. He will do even greater things than these…” Right before the mountain-moving line in Matthew 21:21, He’s commanding fig trees to wither with a word. That’s not “more sermons” or “bigger crowds.” That’s greater quality and power of miracles—through faith, done by Jesus Himself working in “anyone” who believes. Not just the apostles. Not just the first century. Cheung shows how mainstream orthodoxy (Reformed, Evangelical, the whole crew) twists it smaller to protect the system. Why? Because admitting the plain reading would mean everyday believers wielding that kind of authority in Jesus’ name—and that scares the socks off a man-centered setup that secretly worships the apostles as untouchable mini-gods while keeping the rest of us on a short leash.

Now picture Jesus literally flipping through one of those dusty historical creeds—Apostles’, Nicene, Westminster, whatever you’ve got. He scans the sections on God, salvation, Trinity… and finds *zero* mention of the greater-works and answered-prayer test He just spelled out as the disciple-prover.

How does He respond? 

Same way He always does with false teachers: zero sugar-coating, full harsh-rebuke mode. He’d look up and drop something like, “You are greatly mistaken. You brood of vipers don’t know the Scriptures or the power of God” (echoing His Mark 12 mic-drop on the Sadducees). Why? Because skipping His own litmus test creates a flat-out contradiction in their document. They claim to follow Him but left out the very proof He built in. Omitting it isn’t a harmless oversight—it’s rewriting the Owner’s Manual while pretending it’s still His book.

The faithless hand us a user agreement demanding we confess and  “follow the CEO,” but they quietly deleted the one job requirement Jesus posted in bold letters. Jesus’ extreme faith dogmatic is not only His creed, but the litmus test to determine if a person or a supposed document is orthodox. The creed either lines up or it doesn’t.

Only someone who truly trusts the finished work of the cross passes this test. Jesus became sin so we could become the righteousness of God (2 Cor 5:21). He became curse so we could walk in blessing (Gal 3:13). He became poverty so we could walk in prosperity (2 Cor 8:9). Isaiah 53 spells it out: by His stripes we are healed—present tense, New Contract normal. When you believe that exchange actually happened, self-condemnation shuts up. You stand there like a son, not a beggar, and sickness hears your voice and packs its bags. Rain obeys. Mountains move. That’s not “name it and claim it” hype. That’s New Contract baseline.

The faithless can fake “cross-centered” language all day, abuse us with give self-deprecating sermons with tears, quote creeds and scripture in perfect ESV, and still have zero power. But they can’t fake results. Faithless people fail this test by definition—because it demands faith, not self-deprecating statements. You either abide, ask, and receive… or you don’t. Jesus said the unfruitful branch gets cut off and thrown into the fire (John 15:6). Brutal? Yes. Liberating? Absolutely. Do the  same and cut them out of your life.

And that’s exactly why the creeds, seminaries, and half the pulpits quietly buried Jesus’ test centuries ago. If John 15:7-8 was the standard, the fraud would be visible in 4K. No power? No fruit? No answers to prayer that actually move reality? Not My disciple, says Jesus. The modern church swapped the prayer of the righteous for the prayer of the “humble realist” who hedges every request with “if it be Thy will” like the sovereign God needs an escape clause. They turned petition into polite suggestion and then act shocked when the weather doesn’t listen, the sick stay sick, and the lost stay lost.

The faithless of Jesus’ day had the right paragraphs about the Messiah. They could debate atonement theology until the sun went down. But when the real deal showed up healing the sick and raising the dead, they called it Beelzebul, committing the unforgivable sin.

Any so-called creed that fails to include or bow down to Jesus’ own test of orthodoxy isn’t orthodox, no matter how many fanboys defend it. If any creature in heaven or earth insists that some man-made confession is the standard of sound doctrine while ignoring the King’s litmus test of abiding, asking, and receiving undeniable answers, and doing greater works they’ve just lifted their skirt and exposed their spiritual filth and adultery before your eyes. Cut them out of your life, the way the Father cuts off unfruitful branches.  Excommunicate them. Boycott.

Jesus created a dogmatic test that only believers can do. Greater works and answered prayers. The faithless create creeds that humans in their today depravity can still perform. But Jesus gives a creed that only the righteousness of God can perform. Faith-fumblers pledge allegiance to a creed that the old-flesh can sing to. Jesus gives us a dogmatic that only a saint who is born-from-above can arrange into joyful melodies. Mortals design a creed so that human limitations can still jump over it. But Jesus wrote a creed in the stars that only Spirit-empowered superhumans can aim for.

Your Father isn’t limiting you—He’s waiting for you to stop limiting Him. Faith to move mountains isn’t optional; it’s the proof you’re walking in your new identity. The atonement didn’t just forgive you—it qualified you as a prince of heaven. The cross didn’t just save your soul—it empowered your mouth. The Contract didn’t just cover sin—it clothed you in God’s righteousness that does greater works. This is why the prayer of the righteous is powerful and effective. Not because you’re sinless in your old-man, but because the old-man is dead and gone. Now you’re a new creation, empowered and righteous in Christ. When you pray, miracles happen.  That is Jesus’ extreme faith dogmatic. And it’s the orthodoxy that glorifies the Father.

Fully Faithless

Mike Winger posted on Facebook, March 27, 2026: 

“Jesus never promised us prosperity in this world.

He promised tribulation and His peace through it.”

That’s half-true and fully faithless. Full-On Faith Fail.

 Yes, Jesus said, “In the world you will have tribulation” (John 16:33). But faithless preachers pounce on that single line like it’s the whole sermon and then ghost the rest of what He actually said: “I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace… But take courage; I have overcome the world.” They turn victory into a defeatist bumper sticker. They recite the problem and call it the promise. That’s not preaching the gospel — that’s dressing up a gospel of suffering in fake humility and calling it deep. 

As Vincent Cheung nailed it in “In This World, We Will Have Victory” (paraphrased): “Jesus didn’t emphasize suffering. He emphasized triumph. The mention of tribulation was only to provide context for the victory. The statement would substantially mean the same thing if He had simply said, ‘In this world, you will have victory,’ or ‘Have courage, for I have overcome the world.’ He even commanded ‘take courage’ so no one could miss the point. Yet these guys camp out on the negative like it’s their favorite doctrine.

Jesus never said, “In the world you will have tribulation — now get used to it, embrace your broke-down car and doctor bills, and call your lack ‘godly suffering.’” No. He sandwiched the tribulation between two massive pillars of victory: peace in Him and courage because He has already overcome the world. The tribulation gets mentioned only to be swallowed alive by the triumph — like a thousand-dollar parking ticket obliterated by a three-trillion-dollar inheritance. To dwell on the negative isn’t humility; it’s rebellion. It’s the reprobate hermeneutic — the perverse habit of faithless religion that seizes problems and ignores promised solutions.” 

And here’s the fun part (because faith should feel victorious, not like a never-ending rain check): Jesus did promise prosperity — real, tangible, this-life prosperity — through His substitutionary atonement. “For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sake he became poor, so that you through his poverty might become rich” (2 Corinthians 8:9). That’s not spiritual poetry. That’s cold, hard cash, health, victory, and abundance. 

God has always been the God of overflow: from Eden’s garden party, to Abraham’s gospel of blessing, to Jesus redeeming us from the curse so we walk in the blessing of Abraham (Galatians 3:13-14). Abraham wasn’t scraping by — he was exceedingly wealthy. The curse included poverty, sickness, and defeat. The blessing is the exact opposite. Boom. 

To say “He never promised us prosperity” is to hate the very nature of the Father who gives lavishly. It’s to call the atonement incomplete. It’s to romanticize suffering the way unbelievers do — turning the cross into an excuse for why your miracles are MIA. That’s a doctrine of demons. The cross was substitutionary so “we” wouldn’t have to carry what Jesus already carried. Only *His* suffering was romantic, because it was purposeful. Ours is usually just the rotten fruit of unbelief. 

Vincent Cheung reminds us in “Our Prosperity in God’s Program” (paraphrased): “Your suffering often hinders God’s program from moving forward. When you suffer, you cause others to suffer. But when God’s people succeed by faith — praying shamelessly for whatever they need and want — His program advances. God succeeds when His people succeed. Refusing prosperity inflicts damage on multitudes. It is stupid.”

Look at 3 John 2: “Beloved, I pray that you may prosper in all things and be in health, just as your soul prospers.” The apostle John, under the Holy Spirit, doesn’t merely wish it — he presents it as the normal expectation for souls prospering in truth. Psalm 35:27 says God takes pleasure in the prosperity of His servant. Deuteronomy 28 lists blessings of cities, fields, livestock, children, and victory over enemies as covenant inheritance. Jesus Himself declared, “I came that they may have life and have it abundantly” (John 10:10). The Greek ”perissos” means superabundant, excessive, overflowing. Not pie-in-the-sky afterlife stuff. Life “now,” in the power of the resurrected Christ. 

You’ll twist the Bible to call poverty and sickness “holy” and a “badge of honor.” That’s the seeker-friendly gospel of suffering — it gaslights deprivation as devotion and trains people to feel spiritual through misery. It is perverse. It is a conspiracy against the promises of God. 

Tribulation comes? Sure. From the world, the flesh, and the devil. But the believer doesn’t park there like it’s a scenic overlook. We cheer in the middle of it because faith treats God’s promise as already done — like the walls of Jericho crumbling while we’re still marching and high-fiving. Peace isn’t stoic endurance through endless loss; peace is Satan crushed under our feet now (Romans 16:20). The Christian life is victory from faith to faith, glory to glory, prosperity to prosperity. Anything less is unbelief wearing a fake halo. 

When Jesus sent out the disciples, He commanded them to heal the sick, raise the dead, cleanse lepers, and cast out demons (Matthew 10:8). That commission has not been revoked. The same Spirit who raised Christ from the dead lives in every believer (Romans 8:11), and He is not on vacation. To claim God wants His people perpetually sick, broke, or oppressed “for His glory” is to blaspheme the Father who “gives good gifts” (Matthew 7:11) and who delights in the prosperity of His servant. Jesus didn’t say we would do less works than Him, but greater. 

God is sovereign over all things, including tribulation. But sovereignty doesn’t mean He authors defeat as the Christian default. Sovereignty means He controls even the attacks of the enemy and turns them for our good (Romans 8:28). Faith is not passive endurance of misery; faith is the active insistence on what God has promised. When tribulation hits — and it will — our response isn’t to quote “Jesus never promised prosperity” like a spiritual participation trophy. Our response is to stand on the full counsel of God and declare, “Because He has overcome the world, I will prosper in all things and be in health, just as my soul prospers.” 

This is why Winger’s half-truth is so sneaky. It offers “peace through tribulation” while quietly pickpocketing the very promises that make that peace possible. Without the promises of prosperity, healing, and victory, “peace through tribulation” becomes mere fatalism — the peace of the graveyard, not resurrection power. It is zombie theology. True biblical peace is the peace that passes understanding (Philippians 4:7), the peace that guards our hearts because we have made our requests known to God with thanksgiving, believing He gives us what we ask. 

So no, Mike — Jesus didn’t promise us a life of managed disappointment and “peace through it.” He promised us the overcoming life, the abundant life, the rich life — because that’s what His blood purchased. Reject that and you’re not being humble. You’re rejecting the gospel itself. Receive it by faith or keep preaching defeat. There’s no third option. 

Winger’s line is popular because it flatters the flesh. It lets Christians stay spiritual babies, blaming “God’s will” for their lack instead of repenting of unbelief. It sounds humble: “I don’t expect much from God in this life.” Scripture calls that cowardice, not humility. The humble man believes what God has said, no matter how great. The proud man limits God to fit his experience. 

If you’ve been living under this half-truth, it’s time to repent. Stop quoting only the tribulation part like it defines your destiny. Start quoting the victory part as the definition of your identity in Christ. “In this world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.” That overcoming includes prosperity for the advance of your own joy and the kingdom, healing for your own happiness and the display of His mercy, and peace the world cannot give or take away.  The gospel was predestined for your glory.

This is the gospel I preach. This is the faith I defend. Anything less is not the faith once for all delivered to the saints. Let the half-truths be exposed. Let the full truth of Scripture be proclaimed. And let every believer rise up in the name of the Overcomer, prospering in all things for the glory of God. 

Now go confess it, pray in tongues till it burns, and watch the mountains move.

Why Are You Afraid?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jesus: The Man Who Slung Money Around via Miracles

Oshea Davis

You know, I’ve spent years digging into the Scriptures, wrestling with the logic of God’s sovereignty and the raw power of faith, and one thing keeps slapping me in the face like a wet fish from Peter’s haul: Jesus wasn’t stingy. Far from it. He threw around material provision like a king tossing gold coins to the crowds, and He did it through miracles that would make today’s economists weep. We’re talking wine at Cana worth a cool hundred grand in today’s dollars, fish catches that could retire a family for life, and bread multiplications feeding thousands with leftovers to spare. And that’s just the recorded stuff—John says if we wrote down all His miracles, the world couldn’t hold the books (John 21:25). If you’ve seen Jesus, you’ve seen the Father (John 14:9), and this Father isn’t doling out crumbs; He’s serving up feasts of abundance. But here’s the kicker: Jesus didn’t just do it—He commanded His disciples to feed the crowds themselves, expecting them to multiply substance by faith. That puts the ball in our court, folks. If mountains of provision aren’t piling up in your life, don’t blame God; look in the mirror.

[A quick side note, the value amounts are not a direct deduction, but an educated guess; they are a “rough modern parallel” and not a “thus saith the Lord on the exact price.” The point for a rough modern parallel is to help you see a modern picture of the value of the enriching miracles of Jesus’ ministry.]

Let’s start where any solid theology should—with the Word. Take the wedding at Cana in John 2:1-11. Jesus turns water into wine, not just any swill, but the best stuff, enough to fill six stone jars holding twenty to thirty gallons each. That’s 120 to 180 gallons of top-shelf vintage. Since the scripture cannot lie, and it was said to be the best type of wine, it was the expensive stuff.  Think somewhere between 300-900 dollars per gallon. In modern terms, we’re looking at around $50,000 to $150,000 worth of wine, give or take on how vintage the taste was. Jesus didn’t skimp; He overdelivered, turning a potential party flop into a king’s banquet. Why? Because that’s how the Father rolls—abundant generosity reflecting His nature. As Vincent Cheung notes in his essay “The Light of Our Minds,” God’s revelation isn’t about bare minimums; it’s about overwhelming favor that points to His unstoppable power. “God’s revelation is the ultimate starting point for knowledge, and it includes His promises of blessing and provision.” Jesus is not prosperity gospel-lite but prosperity gospel extreme. Jesus provided lavishly, and if we claim to follow Him, we ought to expect the same flow.

 They likely didn’t guzzle it all—sell the surplus, and that family just hit the jackpot. The hosts could’ve sold the surplus and lived like royalty.  Jesus slung money like confetti, turning a potential flop into a fortune. And why? Because the Father is generous, and Jesus mirrors Him perfectly: “If you have seen Me, you have seen the Father” (John 14:9).

Fast-forward to Peter’s big catch in Luke 5:1-11. Jesus borrows Peter’s boat for preaching, then tells him to drop the nets one more time after a fruitless night. Peter obeys, half-grumbling, and hauls in so many fish the nets tear and boats nearly sink. Scholars estimate 153 large fish (John 21:11, a similar miracle), but Luke’s account implies even more. In first-century Galilee, fish were currency—dried, salted, traded. Today’s equivalent? A commercial haul like that could fetch $100,000 to $300,000, enough for Peter to retire comfortably, support his family, and bless his partners. Peter drops everything to follow Jesus, but the Lord ensures he’s provided for richly. This wasn’t pocket change; it was a windfall screaming, “Trust Me—I’ve got your back.” God slung provision through Jesus, and He’s not stingy today.

One additional note about this miracle of money. This became the point that Peter decided to follow Jesus. Miracle money will do that for many people, we know this true because scripture says so, as it shows with Peter.  You want better evangelism, then have more faith for miracle money to bless others. You don’t need to beg Jesus for this because His finished atonement already provided this for us. We already have it.

Then there’s the feeding miracles—twice, no less. First, 5,000 men (plus women and kids, so maybe 15,000 total) get fed from five loaves and two fish (Matthew 14:13-21). Leftovers: 12 baskets. The second time, 4,000 men (likely 12,000 total) from seven loaves and a few fish, with seven baskets left (Matthew 15:32-39). In ancient terms, a loaf fed a family for a day; fish added protein. Valuing basic meals at $12 each today, that’s $180,000 for the first crowd, about $150,000 for the second. But factor in the miracle’s scale—desert catering for thousands, which would cost an addition thousands of dollars. Jesus didn’t ration; He overflowed. These weren’t survival scraps but abundant feasts, foreshadowing the gospel’s promise: “I came that they may have life and have it abundantly” (John 10:10). If you’re scraping by, questioning prosperity, you’re echoing the Pharisees’ unbelief, not Jesus’ faith doctrine.

Jesus didn’t just meet needs; He exceeded them, showing the Father’s heart for overflow. As in Deuteronomy 28:1-14 (various translations emphasize this), obedience to faith brings blessings that chase you down—abundant crops, livestock, and storehouses. Jesus embodied this, commanding His disciples, “You give them something to eat” (Matthew 14:16 NIV). He expected them to multiply by faith, just as we’re responsible today to wield that same power for material substance.

Don’t forget the temple tax coin in the fish’s mouth (Matthew 17:24-27). Peter needs cash for the tax—about four drachmas, a few days’ wages. Jesus says, “Go fish—the first one you catch will have a four-drachma coin in its mouth.” Boom: exact amount. In modern bucks, that’s $100-200. You can pay your taxes the same way. Jesus, as a man born under the law, using faith in God’s word, paid for taxes by miracle money. We can do the same.

God provides precisely, supernaturally. Add it all up so far and a low estimate across these miracles is $300,000; high end, $1,500,000. And these are just the recorded ones. Jesus slung money like it grew on trees—because in His hands, it did. He commands us to do the same.

Now, here’s where faith-fumblers trip up: they peddle unbelief, saying, “That was then; now we ask for bare necessities.” Rubbish. Jesus commanded, “You feed them” (Mark 6:37), expecting disciples to multiply material substance by faith. We’re not sidelined spectators; we’re empowered partners. Mark 11:22-24: “Have faith in God… Truly I tell you, if anyone says to this mountain, ‘Go, throw yourself into the sea,’ and does not doubt in their heart but believes that what they say will happen, it will be done for them.” Mountains of lack? Command them gone. Multiply material substances like the bread, or transmute material substances like water into wine. God is not holding your wealth back; your lack of faith and obedience is. The resurrected Christ empowers us for “greater works” (John 14:12)—not lesser. If you’re not seeing provision multiply, check your faith, not God’s generous wallet, a wallet he has given you access to by faith in Jesus Christ. When He sees you, He sees His Son, and this is why His wallet is opened to you.

But here’s the kicker: Jesus expects us to do the same. “You feed them,” wasn’t a one-off. In Mark 11:22-24, He says, “Have faith in God. Truly I tell you, if anyone says to this mountain, ‘Go, throw yourself into the sea,’ and does not doubt in their heart but believes that what they say will happen, it will be done for them. Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask for in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours” (NIV). Mountains? That’s code for obstacles—sickness, lack, impossibilities. Faith moves them. Matthew 17:20 doubles down: even mustard-seed faith commands mountains to relocate. Nothing impossible. Luke 17:6 adds trees obeying your word, uprooting and planting in the sea.

This isn’t pie-in-the-sky. It’s grounded in Abraham’s covenant, where God promises to be our shield and exceedingly great reward (Genesis 15:1). Paul ties it to the gospel: “Scripture foresaw that God would justify the Gentiles by faith, and announced the gospel in advance to Abraham: ‘All nations will be blessed through you'” (Galatians 3:8 NIV). That blessing? Superabundant descendants, land (the world, per Romans 4:13), wealth, health, favor. No mention of scraping by—it’s excessive. God declares Abraham righteous for believing He’d deliver the goods (Genesis 15:6). Same faith receives healing, provision, miracles today. As Deuteronomy 28:1-14 spells out under the law (fulfilled in Christ): obedience brings overflowing barns, fruitful wombs, victory over enemies. Prosperity? God’s idea—health, wealth, success (Joshua 1:8; Psalm 1:3).

Vincent Cheung echoes this in “Predestination and Miracles”: “God predestined us to bear fruit… Gospel life and ministry is characterized by answers to prayers. What kinds of prayers? … ‘God will give you whatever you ask.’ We’re predestined for this—abundance through faith. Jesus slung money via miracles to show the Father’s love; now it’s our turn. Speak to that mountain of lack: “Be removed and cast into the sea” (Mark 11:23). It will obey you—not because you’re bossing God, but because He’s unleashed His power through your faith confession.

Jesus slung money via miracles to showcase the Father’s generosity. Expect it, command it, receive it—today. Don’t settle for scraps when the table’s set for a feast. Faith moves mountains; unbelief moves excuses.

If you’re one of those folks who thinks Jesus was all about scraping by with the bare minimum—barefoot, begging for scraps, preaching poverty as piety—then you’ve got the wrong Messiah. The real Jesus, the one Scripture paints without apology, wasn’t stingy with His power. He multiplied resources like it was nothing, handing out miracles that, in today’s dollars, equate to hundreds of thousands, even millions. And He didn’t do it quietly. No, He slung that abundance around, benefiting wedding hosts, disciples, crowds, even Peter and Himself for taxes. These aren’t footnotes in the Gospels; they’re front and center, showing the Father’s heart. As John reminds us, there were so many miracles that a library couldn’t hold them all (John 21:25). We’re talking recorded ones alone tallying up to a low estimate of $300,000, spiking to $1,500,000 on the high end. That’s not pocket change—that’s a king’s ransom, dished out freely.

Imagine being so dense that when you read 2 Corinthians 8:9, you think it’s about “spiritual” wealth instead of cold, hard cash. The words say “wealth” and “poverty.” Reading comprehension much? Step one: read the words. Paul’s out there collecting money, so yeah, it’s about finances—not some floaty, ethereal jargon. Only a pastor or theologian could twist it that bad and still sleep at night.

Sure, you might squeeze some extra insight from a redemptive-historical angle, but that’s indirect, secondary, and does zilch to cancel the passage’s straight-up teaching. This money swap was baked into Jesus’ atonement. He took our poverty and handed us His wealth—part of the substitution deal. Curses included poverty, and Jesus snagged those curses, nailed them to the cross, and swapped them for Abraham’s gospel, which comes with miracle cash. He took our broke-ass state and gave us His bling. It’s the full Jesus package. Mock the money part, and you’re mocking Jesus, stomping on His atonement. You’re not just wrong—you’re God’s enemy, an anti-Christian trash heap with a worldview to match.

When they say, “I don’t see all prospering or healed,” it’s not theology anymore—it’s a worldview clash. An ultimate authority clash. We’re not just reading text differently; we’re understanding existence differently. Scripture forbids me from using “Do I see people healed or not?” as a way of knowing or an authority. So if a so-called Christian grabs knowledge or authority from observations, we’re as far apart as atheism is from Christianity. Different authorities, different worldviews. Different foundations, different realities. It’s not about text context—it’s about ultimate authority. My worldview bans appealing to observations; theirs welcomes it. They have sided Satan, and will partake of his destruction.

In the end, if your life’s not overflowing with provision like those crowds’ baskets, don’t lecture God on sovereignty—check your faith. Jesus didn’t hold back; neither should we. He’s the man who slung money around via miracles, and if we’re His, we’ll do the same. Time to believe big, confess bold, and watch reality bow. After all, the Father’s cheering us on—more than we know, because he already provided us wealth in His precious Son’s atonement. Jesus became our poverty so that He makes us rich with this wealth. To think little of wealth is to slap Jesus across the face in blatant disgrace and mock His poverty suffering for us, as a little thing. Or you can just receive His wealth and praise Him for his generosity and use that to be blessed and bless gospel ministries. God’s way is always the better way.

Until we are all slinging wealth around via miracles, we are not living up to Jesus’ extreme faith and wealth doctrine. Our faith needs to catch up Jesus.

 Resisting What Christ Bore

In the arena of faith, where God’s sovereign decrees clash with the feeble whispers of human doubt, Kenneth Copeland’s declaration rings out: “Whatever He bore on the cross we resist!” Amen to that. If we truly grasp the substitutionary atonement of Christ, we’d be fools—nay, anti-Christs in spirit—to promote or tolerate the very curses Jesus shredded His flesh to annihilate. But let’s clarify the battlefield here, lest we swing our swords at shadows. Jesus didn’t die to destroy healing, prosperity, the baptism of the Spirit, the blessing of Abraham, or answered prayers. No, He bore the opposites: sickness, poverty, spiritual drought, the curse of the law, and unanswered cries under bondage. These blessings are the spoils of His victory, already deeded to us in the unmerited contract of grace. To resist what He bore means we stand firm against sickness, lack, demonic oppression, and doubt, claiming by faith what His blood purchased. Anything less is epistemological treason against the revealed Word of God.

We start with the presupposition that God’s revelation is the infallible starting point for all knowledge (2 Timothy 3:16-17). If Scripture is truth and is self-authenticating, says all others are wrong and non-contradictory, then its claims on atonement must logically extend to all aspects of salvation—spiritual, physical, and material. Begin with Isaiah 53:4-5: “Surely our griefs He Himself bore, and our sorrows He carried… By His scourging we are healed.” Here, “griefs” and “sorrows” translate to sicknesses and pains in the Hebrew, as Matthew 8:17 confirms when Jesus heals the sick to fulfill this prophecy. If Christ bore our sicknesses on the cross, then sickness is not our portion; we resist it as an intruder, an enemy defeated at Calvary. To accept illness as “God’s will” is to call God a liar, for His Word declares the exchange complete. Jesus took the stripes so we could walk in health—why hug the curse when the blessing is ours? We are to look at being sick as the same as we look at committing adultery, murder or theft.

Extend this logic to prosperity. 2 Corinthians 8:9 states, “For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though He was rich, yet for your sake He became poor, so that you through His poverty might become rich.” Christ’s poverty on the cross wasn’t metaphorical fluff; it was substitutionary. He who owned the cattle on a thousand hills (Psalm 50:10) became destitute to enrich us. The blessing of Abraham, promised in Galatians 3:13-14—”Christ redeemed us from the curse of the Law… so that we would receive the promise of the Spirit through faith”—includes material abundance. Abraham was loaded with wealth (Genesis 13:2), and as his heirs, we’re entitled to the same covenant overflow. Poverty? That’s what Jesus bore. We resist poverty by faith, just as we resist committing sin. We confess provision as per Philippians 4:19: “My God will supply all your needs according to His riches in glory in Christ Jesus.” If God’s sovereignty decrees abundance for His elect (Ephesians 1:3-14), then lack is a thief’s lie (John 10:10). Satan steals to devour, but we reclaim it, slamming his face into the dirt with Holy Spirit power.

Now, the baptism of the Spirit—oh, how the reprobate trash mocks this! Acts 2:38-39 commands: “Repent, and each of you be baptized in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins; and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. For the promise is for you and your children and for all who are far off, as many as the Lord our God will call to Himself.” This isn’t optional swag; it’s the empowerment for greater works (John 14:12). Jesus bore the separation from the Spirit in Gethsemane and on the cross (Matthew 27:46), so we could be immersed in His presence. Praying in tongues distinguishes the elect from the mockers (Jude 1:18-21), building up our inner man (1 Corinthians 14:4) and channeling unstoppable power (Acts 1:8). To resist the Spirit’s baptism is to embrace the dryness Jesus endured for us. No, we claim it, speaking mysteries that edify and propel us into the place where miracles are as common as silver in the streets of Solomons reign.

And answered prayers? Mark 11:23-24: “Truly I say to you, whoever says to this mountain, ‘Be taken up and cast into the sea,’ and does not doubt in his heart, but believes that what he says is going to happen, it will be granted him. Therefore, I say to you, all things for which you pray and ask, believe that you have received them, and they will be granted you.” Jesus bore the unanswered cries of the cursed (the silence under the law’s bondage), so we could have bold access to the throne (Hebrews 4:16). Doubt and unbelief are what we resist—those fleshly thoughts that prioritize observations over revelation (Romans 8:6). If empiricism says “no healing yet,” we deductively retort: Scripture trumps senses, for the just live by faith, not sight (2 Corinthians 5:7).

But here’s where the rubber meets the road: We’d be anti-Christs if we promoted the curses Jesus destroyed. Imagine preaching sickness as humility or poverty as piety—that’s spitting on the cross! Galatians 3:13 declares redemption from the curse, which Deuteronomy 28 lists as disease, famine, defeat. Promoting these as “God’s refining fire” is worldview prostitution, swapping biblical epistemology for carnal empiricism. Defective epistemologies like empiricism lead to skepticism and death, while faith from Scripture yields life and power. God sovereignly decrees salvation’s total package for His elect (Romans 9:21-23), and faith assents to it, making all things possible (Mark 9:23).

Consider Moses with the Staff of God (Exodus 4:20). God gave him power, but at the Red Sea, Moses whined instead of wielding it (Exodus 14:13-16). God snapped: “Why are you crying out to Me? Tell the sons of Israel to go forward. As for you, lift up your staff!” Deduction: God cares for us by empowering us; and so, begging when we are armed, is faithlessness. Similarly, Jesus gave disciples authority over storms (Mark 4:35-41), yet they accused Him of not caring. He rebuked their “no faith,” for the power was already ours, Psalms 91 already applies to us. Today, we have the name of Jesus, the Spirit’s baptism—why tolerate what He bore?

We are to command restoration in faith, for Joel 2:25 promises God will repay the years the locust ate. Sickness stolen? Command healing. Finances plundered? Declare prosperity. The opposite of what Jesus bore—health, wealth, empowerment—is ours to bless us. They are already deeded in the New Covenant (Hebrews 9:15-17), activated by faith confession (Romans 10:9-10).

Yet, the heresy hunters scoff, calling this “name it and claim it” blasphemy. They’re the reprobates, not having the Spirit (Jude 1:19), distinguishing themselves by mocking tongues and miracles.  Tongues is the litmus test—edifying the inner man, keeping us in God’s love. Cessationists resist the Spirit Jesus poured out, promoting a powerless gospel; they lift up their skirts and expose themselves as faithless.

Brothers and sisters, whatever He bore—sin, sickness, poverty, curse—we resist with faith (Matthew 11:12). We preach the blessings of Jesus Christ: Healing flows, prosperity abounds, Spirit baptizes, Abraham’s favor multiplies, prayers avalanche answers. They are yours—already. Do not fear, only believe.

God Took My Son!

Uh..no, He didn’t

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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