Tag Archives: give

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.

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.

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.

The Money Pipeline Jesus Established

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The God Who Gives and Takes Away

Yeah, you know that song—“Blessed Be Your Name”—with its catchy chorus belting out, “You give and take away.” Oh boy, did the worship leaders love repeating that bridge, turning it into some kind of mantra that echoed through the auditorium like a divine echo chamber. Back in my younger days, before I really grasped the full blast of Jesus’ finished work on the cross, that line used to hit me like a gut punch from an invisible stalker lurking in the shadows of my faith. I’d sing it in church, lifting my hands with the crowd, but inside, it stirred up this nagging dread that twisted my guts: When’s God gonna yank away my health, my cash flow, or that close relationship I’d been nurturing? It painted Him as a cosmic night stalker, ready to rip away the good stuff on a whim, leaving me destitute and praising myself for how much more I can suffer from God than my neighbor. Felt more like a horror flick plot than the promise of an “exceedingly great reward” that God dropped on Abraham in Genesis 15:1. I remember feeling a bit envious of Abraham back then; it seemed like he got the jackpot Genie God who multiplied blessings without the fine print, while we were left with the chainsaw massacre version who giveth and taketh at random.

The Bible is a worldview, and the finished work of Jesus forces a very specific way to see reality: Blessed be the Name of God. He takes away my curses, pains, sickness, poverty, and lack. Blessed be the Name of God, who gives me health, relationships, prosperity, fame, and favors of all sorts. Blessed be the Name of God, who took away my bad, and gave me good.

Job 1:21 says, “Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked I shall return. The LORD gave, and the LORD has taken away; blessed be the name of the LORD.” Job’s venting in the midst of his nightmare, a raw outpouring from a man who’s just lost everything—his kids, his wealth, his health—in a whirlwind of calamity that would break most folks. And in that moment, he’s clinging to a sliver of piety, acknowledging God’s sovereignty even as the ashes settle, but also thinking himself more righteous than he truly was. Job accepted God’s rebuked and God gave him the mercy and compassion of double wealth and health. But here’s the thing: Job’s reality was one where he had no direct covenant contract with God like we do under the New Contract. He’s operating in a pre-cross world, where the full revelation of God’s redemptive plan hadn’t yet unfolded. Zoom out to the New Contract, sealed in Jesus’ blood, and everything shifts dramatically. Through Jesus’ brutal substitution on that cross—where He bore our sins, our infirmities, our poverty—God doesn’t play this give-and-take game with His kids’ blessings. No, He takes away the junk we deserved, the curses that clung to us like bad karma from the fall, and lavishes us with the overflow of His goodness.

The whole point of substitution is that we don’t have the things Jesus took on Himself. Jesus endures the loss so we don’t have to, swapping our rags for His riches in a divine exchange. In God’s mind, and His mind is the only mind matters, He thinks Jesus took on Himself our sins, ours sickness, our curses and our poverty; because of this the Father does not think we have sins, sickness, curses or poverty. Think about it. Hour after horrific hour, Jesus stood in our place under the wrath of God, and nailed to our curses. This has already happened. Jesus endured lash, after lash, after lash as an exchange to give me healing. Who am I to disagree with God. Why would I want to? The Father has decided in His mind that we carry Jesus righteousness, health produced by His stripes, and Abraham’s blessing of excessive increase and wealth. Jesus already did it. God already considers all these bad things removed from us, and already reckons all the good things are ours. If we disbelieve God, like Jesus’ hometown and fail to receive, that is our accountability, and not God who already provided. Again, that is the whole point of substitution. It has already happened and been completed.

If God’s sovereignty means He decrees all things without contradiction—as Hebrews 6:18 insists it’s impossible for Him to contradict Himself—and if His New Contract promises health, prosperity, and victory through faith, and the blessings of Deuteronomy 28 now redirected to us via Galatians 3:14, then He’s not in the business of snatching back what He lavished on us in Christ. Galatians 3:13 spells it out plainly: “Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us—for it is written, ‘Cursed is everyone who is hanged on a tree.’” See? Jesus became the curse so we wouldn’t have to lug it around like a ball and chain. Jesus lugged it around like a ball and chain to the cross and it died there with Him. I don’t have it, because He took it away from me. Isaiah 53:4-5 hammers it home: “Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows; yet we esteemed him stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted. But he was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his wounds we are healed.” That’s not human observational; it’s propositional truth, applied from God’s unchanging mind to our everyday reality. Matthew 8:17 confirms this interpretation, applying it directly to Jesus’ healing ministry: “This was to fulfill what was spoken by the prophet Isaiah: ‘He took our illnesses and bore our diseases.’”

In the New Covenant, God’s giving is all about abundance—health as in 3 John 1:2, where John prays, “Beloved, I pray that all may go well with you and that you may be in good health, as it goes well with your soul”; prosperity echoing Abraham’s promise in Genesis 12:2, “And I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you and make your name great, so that you will be a blessing.” Thus even relationships are rooted in Abraham’s gospel of increase of favor, love and meaningfulness, not arbitrary loss and loneliness. It’s all yes and amen in Christ, as 2 Corinthians 1:20 declares: “For all the promises of God find their Yes in him. That is why it is through him that we utter our Amen to God for his glory.” If we’re singing “He gives and takes away” while ignoring this Contract shift, we’re mixing up a person with outsider status with insider’s status, creating a theological Frankenstein. To mix outsider identity with insider identity is peddling a demon dogmatic that leaves people in perpetual defeat. To think your identity is a dog when you are human would have devastating results. The same with our identity in Christ. To think you are merely human or still the old man, or still a sinner, or still sick or still under a curse, or still an outsider to the Contract when you are not, would have devastating results.

Sickness, for instance, isn’t God’s autograph on our lives—it’s Satan’s victory lap, a middle finger to the kingdom that Jesus demolished at the cross. In Acts 10:38, Peter describes Jesus’ ministry: “how God anointed Jesus of Nazareth with the Holy Spirit and with power. He went about doing good and healing all who were oppressed by the devil, for God was with him.” Notice: oppressed by the devil, not by God. Doing good was healing and doing bad was sickness. Peter says it was the devil doing the bag thing, which was taking away health. But it was Jesus doing the good thing, which was giving health. In the New Contract, God takes away the oppression—the sickness, the lack, the relational fractures—and gives us wholeness. In the substitutionary atonement, Jesus took 39 stripes in exchange for our healing. It is already done. In the Father’s mind, He decided our sicknesses were taken off us and put on Jesus as those 39 stripes. There is nothing more for God to do in order to heal us. He already did in Jesus substitutionary atonement. If we attribute taking away blessings to God, we’re aligning with the accuser, not the Advocate. Satan will teach you to let him do bad things to you like sickness, lack and death, and then tell you to label these bad things as from God. But Acts 10:38 says Jesus does the good thing which is healing.

God is sovereign over all things, including evil, and so He must by logical necessity even be the author of sin. Yet, on the relational level where we live and breathe, God speaks to us as Contract partners, promising to take away curses and give blessings without reversal. In Deuteronomy 28:1-14, the blessings for obedience include health, wealth, and fruitful relationships, and under the New Contract, these are ours through Christ’s perfect obedience, not our flawed efforts. We don’t earn them; we receive them by faith, as Romans 4:16 explains: “That is why it depends on faith, in order that the promise may rest on grace and be guaranteed to all his offspring.”

So, if your theology still has God as the cosmic repo man, stripping away the very favors He promised in the New Contract, you’re not just off-base—you’re peddling demon dogmatics that’ll stain your hands on judgment day. Before its too late, stop cheering for the wrong team in this cosmic cage match. Instead, bless the Lord who takes our curses—our pains, our lacks, our brokenness—and pours out His riches in glory by Christ Jesus (Philippians 4:19). Blessed be His name, the Giver who takes away our trash and upgrades our inheritance to match His Son’s.

This isn’t pie-in-the-sky optimism; it’s deductive certainty from Scripture’s premises. Start with God’s immutable character (Malachi 3:6: “For I the LORD do not change”), add the New Contract irrevocable promises (Hebrews 8:6: “But as it is, Christ has obtained a ministry that is as much more excellent than the old as the covenant he mediates is better, since it is enacted on better promises”), and conclude that what He gives in Christ—life abundant (John 10:10)—He doesn’t retract things from your life. The whole point of substitutionary atonement is that Jesus went to great lengths to retract and take away all your sins, sickness, curses and lack. God did take away and retract things from your life, but it was all your bad, which Jesus took on Himself and bore it in your place. Satan may try to pilfer, but God’s response is to restore double, as in Zechariah 9:12: “Return to your stronghold, O prisoners of hope; today I declare that I will restore to you double.”

In practical terms, this means when trials hit—whether financial squeezes, health scares, or relational rifts—we don’t resign ourselves to “God’s taking away” but resist the devil, firm in faith (James 4:7), claiming the blessings already secured. If God were in the taking business for Contract insiders, He would take away our unbelief, not our blessings; He would zap it right out so we could receive freely. In fact, this is what the boy’s father prayer, “help my unbelief.” The finished atonement of Jesus, and our new identity in Him forces a particular worldview; it invites us to approach the throne boldly (Hebrews 4:16), asking, knowing we will receive, because our Father promised and delights in giving good gifts.

The God who gives and takes away, has revealed what this means for insiders in Christ; God takes away bad things and gives good things. Blessed be His name, indeed—not for painful subtractions, but for lavish additions that make us more than conquerors (Romans 8:37). If you’ve been singing that song with a side of dread, thinking God takes away the health, wealth, good relationships, righteousness and the very blessings He gave you in Christ, then you have been singing with demons and glorifying the devil. Some Christians are so confused they are singing “Highway to Hell,” thinking it’s a gospel song about God’s insiders. Swap camps and come over God’s choir singing: He gives life, and takes death; gives health, and takes sickness; gives abundance, and takes poverty.

That’s the gospel rhythm—dance to it.

A Deep Relationship with the Sun

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your Peace

In Luke 10:5-9 and Matthew 10:12-13, Jesus lays out a blueprint for His disciples that’s as straightforward as it is revolutionary to the faithless. “Whatever house you enter, first say, ‘Peace be to this house.’ And if a man of peace is there, your peace will rest on him, but if not, it will return to you. Stay in that house, eating and drinking what they give you; for the laborer is worthy of his wages. Do not keep moving from house to house. And whatever city you enter and they receive you, eat what is set before you; and heal those in it who are sick, and say to them, ‘The kingdom of God has come near to you,’” (Luke 10:5-9 LSB). Matthew echoes this: “As you enter the home, give it your greeting. If the home is deserving, let your peace rest on it; if it is not, let your peace return to you,” (Matthew 10:12-13 NIV).

Jesus operated as a man born under the law, anointed with the Spirit’s power for ministry—not relying on His divine nature, but showing us how a Spirit-empowered human crushes Satan’s works. He didn’t do miracles in “Jesus power” as God incarnate flexing; no, He modeled what a man filled with the Spirit could achieve. And here’s the kicker: that same Spirit, that same authority, He handed off to His followers. On the relative level—the human level where we live, fight, and pray—it’s “your peace,” not God’s. Once bestowed, it’s ours to wield, to give or withdraw as we see fit. Luke ties it to faith with that simple “first say”—a command spoken in confidence, expecting results because God’s sovereign mind integrates His power so seamlessly into our reality that when we declare it, heaven backs us up.

Think about it deductively. Premise one: God is sovereign, decreeing all things, including the authority He delegates to His elect (Matthew 28:18-20; Acts 1:8). Premise two: Jesus, post-resurrection, pours out this authority on believers through the Spirit, commanding us to heal the sick and advance His kingdom (Luke 10:9; Mark 16:17-18). Conclusion: If you’re born from above, this power isn’t locked in heaven waiting for a divine mood swing—it’s yours now, on the human level, to command peace over homes, sickness, and even demonic strongholds. Deny that, and you’re not just short on faith; you’re slapping the Spirit who anoints us for battle.

“On the human level, Jesus, the most God-centered man ever, said about both healing and forgiveness, ‘Your faith saved you.’ In Acts 10:38, Peter says all the sick people Jesus healed were ‘victimized’ or oppressed ‘by the devil.’ So, the Bible has no issue saying sickness isn’t from God; it is from Satan or the curse” (ST. p. 658). As God says in Isaiah 54, If someone attacks you, I did not send them. Or in today’s terms, if sickness attacks you, I did not send it. Jesus didn’t point to ultimate metaphysics every time He healed—He almost always pointed to the person’s faith. Why? Because that’s how God relates to us: through covenants, promises, and His good nature. Satan offered Jesus authority over kingdoms (Luke 4:5-6), but Jesus reclaimed it all at the cross, triumphing over principalities (Colossians 2:15). Now, seated at the right hand of Power, He says, “All authority has been given to Me” (Matthew 28:18 LSB), and then commissions us to use it.

But what about us today? If we don’t want to blaspheme the Spirit, our response must be that we have more than the disciples pre-Pentecost. They operated under Jesus’ direct commission, but post-resurrection, the fullness of the Spirit is poured out for power (Acts 2:33). It’s impossible to claim we have less without insulting the Spirit’s outpouring. Unlike the faithless who center on man—”Oh, that was for apostles only”—it was never about them; it was about God anointing humans to smash Satan’s works. Peter preached the baptism of power at Pentecost, and in Acts 3, he declared, “What I have, I give” (Acts 3:6 LSB)—the Name of Jesus, which we all wield. Jesus hammered it in John 14-16: ask in My name, and it’ll be done. This power mirrors binding and loosing (Matthew 18:18)—authority for any who confess Jesus as the Son of God.

Vincent Cheung nails it: “Faith trumps everything. Faith is immune to even correct theological arguments. This is not because faith could contradict sound theology, but because faith can override it” (Faith Override, Sermonettes Vol. 9, 2016, p. 14). The disciples’ peace wasn’t some ethereal vibe; it was Spirit-backed authority to bless or withhold, healing the sick as proof the kingdom’s near. Today, we don’t dust off sandals—we command peace over chaos, sickness, and oppression. If it sticks, great; if not, it returns to us, undiminished. Most Christians treat this like a loaded gun they won’t fire, begging God to pull the trigger while Satan laughs. Newsflash—He gave you the authority; use it, or you’re playing church while the kingdom stalls.

Apply this systematically. First, epistemology: Start with Scripture as God’s truth that is revealed and self-authenticating. God defines peace not as absence of trouble but victory over it—”I have told you these things, so that in Me you may have peace. In the world you have tribulation, but take courage; I have overcome the world” (John 16:33 LSB). Jesus says the peace He has, He has given to us. In God’s sovereign mind there as a substitute in Jesus. He bore the chastisement that has brought us peace. In God’s mind we already have this peace. It is given freely by grace and received by faith. Our Faith assents to this—declare peace over your home, and watch demons flee or blessings flow. Metaphysics: On the ultimate level, God decrees all; relatively, our words release it. The power of the Spirit’s peace was with the disciples; once God gave it to them, then on the human level, it is their peace, not God’s, just as my arm and my legs are mine, not God’s.

Anthropology: We’re remade as overcomers. “By faith we understand that the entire universe was formed at God’s command” (Hebrews 11:3 NIV), so speak to storms, sickness—reality obeys. Ethics: Command it. “Heal those in it who are sick” (Luke 10:9)—not optional. Reject this, and you’re siding with faith-fumblers, peddling unbelief like those who taught bad doctrine to my twin brother Joshua. They’ll be caught trying to wash blood off their hands when the Big Guy’s gavel drops.

When many seem to be fighting for all their lives to get peace, to find peace, to drive out the depression and stress and replace it with peace, Jesus offers an entirely different worldview. He expects us to have His peace. If we can give away our peace like a divine magic spell, then Jesus is presupposing we have this peace already. Jesus says, “Do not let your hearts be troubled, because I have overcome the world.” God’s peace is beyond all that we can measure. It is not merely a psychological crutch in the mind. It is peace with God. It is God’s sovereign decision to make things all around you to treat you well, so that even your enemies are at peace with you. It is blessing that surrounds you like a divine magical ward of luck. It is based on the thoughts of God’s good pleasure toward you. And God’s thoughts are reality; they create reality itself.

This peace isn’t some fragile inner calm that crumbles under the weight of life’s chaos; it’s the unshakeable reality of God’s victory invading our everyday existence, turning potential disasters into divine footnotes of rest. The idea of having peace with God is the ability and position to approach God, in His throne room of grace, to ask and then to receive the help we are asking for. Jesus Himself models this when He declares, “Peace I leave with you, My peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid” (John 14:27, as quoted on p. 141). Think about it— if God’s presence shows up, as it did in Acts, it’s not content to whisper sweet nothings; it erupts in miracles, healings, and prophecies that bulldoze sickness and troubles. After destroying the troubles we can rest from them. This is God’s peace and it affects the whole life of the man who belongs to God. “Peace is not a chemical feeling in the brain. It is when you can rest from troubles.” Frankly, if your version of peace leaves you grinding through endless stress without supernatural breakthroughs, you’re settling for a counterfeit—Satan’s cheap knockoff, not the real deal that Jesus paid for with His blood. God’s thoughts toward us aren’t wishful thinking; they’re the blueprint of reality, decreeing enemies silenced and blessings overtaking us, as Isaiah 54 promises no weapon formed against us will prosper.

Yet, this peace demands we align our minds with God’s sovereign script, not man’s empirical rewrites. God’s peace flows from His unchanging nature—He doesn’t dabble in shadows or half-measures, as No ‘shadow’ of turning, for a shadow would contradict light. It’s the peace that Jesus bore our chastisement to secure: “The chastisement for our peace was upon Him, and by His stripes we are healed” (Isaiah 53:5). God’s presence is a contradiction to suffering. For a child of God, suffering’s greatest enemy and contradiction is God’s presence. If you’re still battling for peace like it’s an uphill slog, perhaps it’s time to stop playing defense and start commanding the mountains to move—because Jesus didn’t overcome the world so we could tiptoe around it. He overcame it, so that we have peace and rest. He overcame the world so that we also overcome, and storm the gates of Hell and expand His kingdom. God creates a reality where peace isn’t pursued; it’s possessed, permeating every corner until even your foes wave the white flag.

Your peace isn’t God’s passive pat on the back—it’s delegated rest that packs more power than a nuclear bomb. Post-Pentecost, we’ve got the upgrade: baptism for power, faith to command. Don’t blaspheme the Spirit by claiming less; grab God’s peace and declare it, and watch the kingdom expand. If critics call this extreme, point them to Jesus—the original faith zealot. But for those with faith? Peace rests, kingdoms fall, and glory goes to the One who armed us for victory.

Satan’s Sticky Fingers: Robbed of Speech

Sept / 16 / 2025

“A spirit has robbed him of speech.”

Picture this: a desperate father, elbowing through a crowd in ancient Galilee, clutching the frayed edges of his hope like a man who’s just realized his wallet’s gone missing in a divine pickpocket scheme. “Teacher,” he blurts out in Mark 9:17, “I brought you my son, who is possessed by a spirit that has *robbed* him of speech.” Robbed. Not gently borrowed, not misplaced in some cosmic filing error—robbed. As if Satan himself is out there running a black-market operation on human dignity, snatching voices, health, and futures with the glee of a thief who knows the cops are on coffee break. And Jesus? He’s not there to commiserate over the loss. No, He’s the divine restitution agent, the one who turns the tables and declares, in essence, “That’s not how this story ends.” Because while Satan steals, kills, and destroys, Jesus—that is, God in the flesh—shows up to give life, and life to the full (John 10:10). It’s a total takedown, a comprehensive comeback, where the enemy’s heists meet their match in the King’s vault of abundance.

Let’s not rush past that word, though: “robbed”. The NIV nails it here, capturing the raw theft at play. This isn’t some vague affliction drifting in from the ether; it’s a deliberate grab, a demonic mugging. The father isn’t whining about a genetic glitch or the general brokenness of a fallen world—he’s pointing the finger straight at the spirit doing the dirty work. And Jesus doesn’t correct him with a theological footnote about Adam’s ancient fumble in the garden. No, He rolls up His sleeves, rebukes the foul spirit, and sends it packing, leaving the boy whole. It’s a scene that echoes through the Gospels like a divine audit: Satan as the ultimate con artist, pilfering what God intended for flourishing. But here’s the frank truth, straight from the self-authenticating pages of Scripture—our epistemology’s unyielding foundation: This robbery isn’t God’s idea. It’s not His script. God doesn’t script poverty of body or spirit; He authors prosperity, health, and unhindered communion. To think otherwise is to buy into the devil’s counterfeit theology, where lack masquerades as piety and suffering as sanctity. What a con. What a waste.

Dig a little deeper into Jesus’ ministry, and you see this contrast isn’t a one-off plot twist—it’s the central narrative arc. From the synagogue in Capernaum to the dusty roads of Judea, Jesus doesn’t just forgive sins in some ethereal corner of the soul; He pairs it with healing the body, restoring the broken, and multiplying the loaves like He’s got a divine expense account with no limits. Remember the paralytic lowered through the roof in Mark 2? “Son, your sins are forgiven,” Jesus declares. The scribes mutter about blasphemy, so He follows up: “Which is easier: to say, ‘Your sins are forgiven,’ or to say, ‘Get up, take your mat and walk’?” Then—bam—the man walks. Forgiveness and function, absolution and ability, bundled together like a covenant combo meal. It’s total salvation on display, where spiritual restoration isn’t isolated from material wholeness. Satan robs on both fronts: voices silenced in shame, bodies bent in pain, wallets emptied in want. But Jesus? His life-giving ministry hits back harder, broader, deeper. He doesn’t offer a half-measure grace that patches the soul while leaving the flesh to fester. No, He restores the whole package, because anything less would dishonor the God who, from Genesis onward, pronounced creation “very good”—abundant, integrated, thriving.

And let’s not kid ourselves: This robbery extends to the material realm, too. The same spirit that mutes a boy’s speech whispers lies about scarcity, convincing folks that God’s too stingy for silver or too sovereign to care about supper. But Scripture shreds that nonsense. Satan steals health *and* wealth, binding people in cycles of lack that mock the Creator’s generosity. Look at the widow’s oil in 2 Kings 4—multiplied by God’s word through Elisha—or Abraham’s flocks swelling under heaven’s favor. These aren’t anomalies; they’re previews of the blessing that flows from faith. Jesus embodies it fully: feeding five thousand from a boy’s lunch, turning water to wine without a single budget meeting. His high priesthood isn’t one of half-rations and holy poverty; it’s the ministry of righteousness, healing, and prosperity (as Peter sums it up in Acts 10:38). To claim Jesus as your priest while nursing a theology of deprivation is like hiring a chef who specializes in feasts and then settling for stale bread. It’s not devotion; it’s delusion. God’s unmerited favor supplies man—man doesn’t supply God. Satan peddles the lie that lack builds character; Jesus proves abundance glorifies the Father.

Now, pivot to that sevenfold restoration—the Bible’s bold promise of over-the-top payback. Joel 2:25 thunders it: “I will repay you for the years the locusts have eaten—the great locust and the young locust, the other locusts and the locust swarm—my great army that I sent among you.” Not just a refund, mind you, but a surplus, a divine interest rate that turns theft into treasure. Zechariah 9:12 echoes the vibe: “Return to your fortress, you prisoners of hope; even now I announce that I will restore twice as much to you.” Twice? Try seven, as the pattern holds from Job’s double-down restoration to the prodigal’s fatted calf welcome. This isn’t cosmic compensation for pity’s sake; it’s God’s sovereign logic at work, where what the enemy meant for ruin becomes rocket fuel for glory. Satan robs your speech? God restores your voice—with volume, clarity, and a testimony that echoes through eternity. He robs your health? Expect not just mending, but vitality that turns heads and topples strongholds. Wealth pilfered? Watch as storehouses overflow, not from sweat alone, but from the blessing of Abraham crashing through the gates of grace.

But here’s where the rubber meets the road, and the wit turns a shade sharper: If the curse of Adam looms in the background—and it does, that primal fracture rippling through creation—Jesus didn’t leave it hanging like a bad sequel. Galatians 3:13 lays it bare: “Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us, for it is written: ‘Cursed is everyone who is hung on a pole.'” Substitutionary atonement in action: Jesus absorbs the thorns, the sweat, the silence of the tomb, so you get the garden’s bounty. The father in Mark 9 doesn’t blame Adam’s echo; he names the demon. Jesus doesn’t theologize about original sin; He evicts the intruder. The bent-over woman in Luke 13? “Ought not this woman, a daughter of Abraham whom Satan has kept bound for eighteen long years, be set free on the Sabbath day?” Satan, not some vague curse, gets the credit for the crook in her spine. Sure, the Fall set the stage for such invasions, but Jesus spotlights the squatter, the thief in the night. And why? Because pinpointing the robber empowers the resistance. If it’s just “the curse,” you shrug in fatalism (aka the Christian word for “if it is God’s will”). But if it’s Satan—and Scripture screams it is—then you’ve got a command: Resist the devil, and he will flee (James 4:7). Cast out spirits, heal the sick, reclaim the stolen. Faith isn’t passive therapy; it’s aggressive restitution.

Frankly, if you’re sitting on robbed health or pilfered prosperity, nursing it like a badge of spiritual maturity, you’re not just missing the plot—you’re aiding and abetting the heist. You’re a willing accomplice, handing Satan the getaway car keys while Jesus stands ready with the restitution check. Maxim 16 cuts like a surgeon’s scalpel: Reprobates who resist faith on demand for healing and blessings have sided with demons to trample the blood of Christ. Ouch? Good. Truth should sting when it exposes the lie. God isn’t the miser doling out affliction for your “growth”; He’s the Father who, through the Son, has already swapped curse for blessing, poverty for plenty. Abraham’s seed? That’s you, insider to the Contract, heir to the abundance; inheritor of Jesus who is the resurrection of life “now,” not just pie-in-the-sky later. To accept the robbery without a fight is to declare Jesus’ cross as ineffective, His resurrection a footnote. But no—His life is abundant, total, sevenfold-plus. Satan steals your speech? Jesus restores your shout of praise. He binds your back? You walk tall in dominion. He empties your coffers? You sow in faith and reap barns that burst.

Don’t let the thief define your story. Scripture interprets itself, originalist to the core, and it screams restoration over ruin. Start with the self-authenticating Word: Your faith saved you—from sin, from sickness, from scarcity. Confess it daily, relentlessly: “Satan, you robbed what was mine, but Jesus redeemed it sevenfold. I take it back now, in His name.” Command the mute spirit out, the bent frame straight, the empty hands full. Reality obeys faith, because the resurrected King backs your play. It’s not arrogance; it’s agreement with God, whose love to you, makes you worth the overpayment. And when the loot rolls in—health humming, wealth working, voice vibrating with victory—remember: This glorifies Him, who is the power, the love and the giver; not you. It’s the Father’s joy to lavish on sons who believe.

In this fallen farce of a world, where Satan still pickpockets the unwitting, be the one who turns the tables. Robbed of speech? Speak life. Robbed of strength? Stride bold. Robbed of substance? Scatter seed and watch the harvest mock the thief. Jesus didn’t come to commiserate; He came to compensate, to conquer, to crown the believer with triumph. By faith, you’ll save yourself from Satan’s steal. And in doing so, God boasts of you before the heavens, as the hero He always scripted you to be. No more victims in the kingdom. Only victors, voices restored, vaults replenished. That’s the gospel’s punchline—and it’s hilariously, eternally good.

My Power My Choice

Acts 3:4-6 NIV

Then Peter said, “Look at us!”

….what I do have I give you.
In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, walk.

First. Peter said, “look at us.” I thought we were to direct attention away from us and point to Christ? Why is Peter so focused on himself?

Second. Peter says “what “I,” have, “I,” give to you.” I thought it was, “what God has, He will sovereignly will or choose to give?” I thought it was God’s power, and God’s choice, not Peter’s power and Peter’s choice?

Peter said it was Peter’s power, “what I have,” and it was his choice, “I give.” Peter claims it was his power and his will. Why does Peter pray in a contradictory way as compared to the theologians? Who is right?

The Bible rejects pantheism. God is not what He creates; He absolutely and directly controls all things, but He is not what He controls. God gave his followers the power to heal the sick, and cast out demons. He did not give this power to Himself. Jesus commanded both the apostles and followers to heal the sick. Jesus commanded both is disciples and 77 others to “heal the sick and cast out demons.” Some stop at Matthew 10:7 when Jesus command them to “preach the kingdom of heaven.” Jesus is commanding them, and us by extension, to preach the gospel. So far, so good. But Jesus continues by saying, “heal the sick, cast out demons, and raise the dead.” Jesus was not going to do this; He was commanding them to do it. If someone was going to get healed, it was up to their power and choice. Thus to heal the sick and raise the dead is as much as a command as it is to preach the gospel. If it was not clear enough Jesus after His resurrection, commanded them to receive power, Acts 1:8. Most of them were not apostles, because it had nothing to do with the apostles, but Jesus sitting as the right hand of the Power. Not only did they have the power, it was their will or choice to administer it. It was not up to God’s power and will to heal, it was their power and will.

This is how Jesus spoke on this topic and it was how Peter spoke on it. However if I spoke like Jesus and Peter in most American churches I would be labeled a heretic.

Yes, on the ultimate level the power is God’s, just as the power in my hand to type this essay is ultimately God’s power and by His direct control. However, Jesus and the Bible rarely mention this ultimate level; they mostly speak on the human level. I will do the same. Thus, it was not God who typed this, but it was I, who typed with my power and choice. Likewise , the sick are not healed by God’s power and choice, but my power and my choice. Anyone who has a problem with this rejects a doctrine directly taught by Jesus and the Holy Spirit. Cut such a person out of your life. They are servants of demons.

Peter sums this up by saying faith in Jesus name brought the healing. It was a person’s will to have faith that brought the healing, not God’s will. For more on this topic see, Vincent Cheung, “Healing, The Will Of Man.”

Also, Peter did not even pray, at least not in the traditional way. He simply commanded the healing. This is what Jesus told us to do. “You heal the sick.” It was the same with Moses and the Red Sea. God said, “You divide it.” Many do not pray by commanding and this is why their prayers go unanswered. This is why many have died before their time by sickness and troubles. Jesus commanded us to do the healing, not God.

Jesus’ faith doctrine is extreme. He does not instruct us to pray to God and tell Him about our mountain; rather, Jesus tells us to move the mountain by using faith and commanding it to move. Jesus said, “it will obey you.”

This is not a suggestion. It is a command from our God. Because of this, when many pray they are in rebellion against God. Jesus commands us to move and heal. However, many respond back saying, “No, God, You do it, if You are willing.” By praying like this, they have ensured their sickness has already gained victory over them. On rare occasions God might still heal such a prayer, out of extreme pity, but it would be an exception. If you are sick and pray like a beggar, asking God to heal, you have already lost. You are a dead man walking. Sickness has already defeated you for the glory of Satan.

When some pray, they pray confessing unbelief rather than faith. If you are born-again then you are not a worm, not a beggar, not a nobody and you are not a sinner. James says the prayer of a righteous person is very effective; however, if your prayer is confessing how pathetic you are, then of course you will not pray knowing how righteous you are, and thus, your prayers will not be effective. Prayer is a good confession of faith in God’s truths and promises; and yet, people often pray confessing who they were, before they were born-again. They say, “I am a worn and sinful and nothing, but God is everything and powerful.” This takes no faith; it is a coward’s way out. It is a religious maneuver to remove you from God’s command and responsibility. If you are nothing and sinful then you need to get born-again so that you become righteous and have privileges that come from being a son of God.

To illustrate this think about asking God for the forgiveness of sins, or a salvation type prayer. Although, there is nothing wrong for a salvation prayer to “ask God into your heart,” yet there are more precise ways to describe it. Peter in his Pentecost sermon gives direction for a salvation prayer. He instructs the audience to ““Repent and be baptized, in the name of Jesus Christ.” Notice Peter did not instruct them to “ask” God to forgive them; rather, he tells them to repent in Jesus’ Name to be saved. Why? Because Jesus already died and was resurrected. The forgiveness already happened. We are not asking God to crucify His Son again to forgive us, because it already happened. We are not asking God to do anything in the present tense to forgive us, because Jesus already accomplished it. Because it has been accomplished all we do is repent. In this context we do not ask or beg. It is when a person has confidence in Jesus’ finished atonement, they repent of their sins in Jesus’ Name. Salvation in this sense is a confession, and not asking and begging. We confess our sins and that is all it takes. Faith in this sense, is about God letting you know He has already forgiven you, and by repenting you are agreeing with God. It is foundationally about agreeing and confessing and not asking.

Other gospel benefits such as a healing, and the authority to cast out demons and cast down mountains is the same. They have been accomplished by Jesus’ finished atonement. We do not ask and beg for them, because they have been accomplished by Jesus and given to us. It is irrational to beg for something that already belongs to you. It was the stripes on Jesus’ back that healed us. And so, it is irrational to ask God to heal us, as if He needs to break out the whip again and start slashing Jesus in the throne room. God accomplished our healing in Jesus’ atonement. Thus, we don’t beg for it, because it is already ours. As with salvation, we repent as a confession of confidence in Jesus finished atonement, rather than beg and ask forgiveness. The same with healing. We confess and agree with God, rather than beg and ask. This is why Jesus tells us to “heal the sick, and cast out demons.” When we command healing and command demons to leave, we are giving a confident confession in the finished atonement of Jesus, which has given us the healing and authority to do such things.

Some people are asking God to do things that He told us to do. They have it flipped upside down. And yes, we see examples of Jesus in John 14-16 telling us to ask in His name. However, in my experience it is only those who already know their authority in Jesus, who already are healing the sick, who are able to ask God for things in prayer, without asking as if they are a beggar or outsider. Those how can heal the sick and cast out demons are better equipped to march boldly to God’s throne of grace and confidently ask for things as a son who belongs there.