Tag Archives: spirit

The Prayer Exam: Jesus’ Real Creed of Orthodoxy

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

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

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

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

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

Vincent Cheung nailed it: 

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

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

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

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

How does He respond? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Head Held High

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Faith: Winning the Path of Wisdom

Picture this: you’re standing on the narrow sidewalk of wisdom, the kind Solomon warned his son about. One wrong step and you plunge into endless darkness. Your blood runs cold at the thought of betraying the King of kings

The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom. How true this is. The fear of God can be seen in context of Scripture as something more mild as worship or reverence, or your blood turning cold in dread. As King Solomon wrote, paraphrasing ( Proverbs 20:2, & 24:21-22): my son, if you betray the king, expect the wrath of the king. Your blood should turn cold in fear if you betray the king. This is right and good. “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge, but fools despise wisdom and instruction” (Proverbs 1:7, NIV). The same truth echoes in Psalm 111:10 and Proverbs 9:10. Fear is not a one-time emotional spasm; rather, Godly fear, is the strength of mind to get on wisdom’s on-ramp. It keeps your feet planted on the narrow way while the darkness of human speculation yawns on both sides. Step off that sidewalk and you are not merely lost—you are swallowed.

However, the part to remember here is the word “beginning.” The fear of God will cause you to begin to walk on the path of wisdom, and it will keep you on the path without turning to the left or right. Think of a sidewalk and on the sides where the sidewalk ends, it plunges into endless darkness. You do not want to stray off this path.

If fear is the beginning of wisdom, what is the advancement of wisdom?

First, know the love. Paul prayed it for the Ephesians and I pray it for you right now: that you “may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God” (Ephesians 3:18-19). Notice the order. It is not your love for God that strengthens your inner man. It is His love for you. When that reality sinks in, you stop focusing on your stumbles and start receiving the fullness of God Himself. You stop crawling and start standing tall in the throne room as a legitimate son who already has a room prepared in the Father’s house. There is no more condemnation. Jesus already took that. Your judgment day is behind you; only grace and a brilliant future lie ahead.

When you know the Father loves you the same way He loves Jesus (John 17:23), your inner man swells like a sail in a hurricane. Prayers that once sounded timid now blast through the heavens. This is not sentimental fluff; it is deductive reality. God said it; therefore it is so. The stronger the inner man, the faster you sprint down the sidewalk of wisdom.

The second turbocharger is faith itself—the Flash of the spiritual realm. Hebrews 11 parades the heroes, not the moralists. Abraham lied about his wife, yet faith made him the father of nations. David committed adultery and murder, yet faith made him a man after God’s own heart. The chapter ends with the summary: “These were all commended for their faith” (v. 39). Why no chapter on “Heroes Who Kept the Marriage Bed Pure”? It is not because a pure marriage bed is unimportant, but without faith it is impossible to please God. (Hebrews 11:6). Faith is the deductive application of God’s revelation to your situation. You take the premise “My word shall not return void” (Isaiah 55:11), add the premise “Whatever you ask in my name will be done” (John 14:13-14), and the conclusion is as certain as 2 + 2 = 4. That is why James 5:15 can say, “The prayer offered in faith will make the sick person well; the Lord will raise them up.” No exceptions listed. Faith does not guess; it agrees with God that He is correct when He says, “ if anyone says to this mountain, ‘Go, throw yourself into the sea,’ and does not doubt in their heart but believes that what they say will happen, it will be done for them. Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask for in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours.” (Mark 11:223-24).

You can keep every rule in the book and still be a total disappointment to heaven if you refuse to believe God for healing, wealth, miracles, and power. Without faith it is impossible to please Him. Period. The faithless can polish their halos all day; God is not impressed. But one man who believes “whatever you ask in my name will be given you” (John 15:16) and actually expects it—that man makes heaven cheer.

This is why Peter, right after Jesus predicted his betrayal, still got the same promise as everyone else: “I am going there to prepare a place for you” (John 14:2). Peter fell hard, but he never lost his room in the Father’s house. Jesus restored him in love, and Peter used that restoration to strengthen the brethren. That is what faith does. It turns your worst failure into fuel to win the path of wisdom.

Look at the centurion in Matthew 8. He understood sovereignty better than most theologians I know. “Just say the word,” he told Jesus, “and my servant will be healed.” He saw reality itself obeying Jesus the way soldiers obey a commander. Jesus called that great faith and upgraded the miracle on the spot. The centurion didn’t crawl in fear; he ran straight into the throne room with confidence and walked out with a healed servant. That is how sons advance on the path of wisdom.

And here comes the baptism of power that turns the Flash into a supernova. Jesus commanded the disciples to wait for the Spirit so they would receive power (Acts 1:8). Peter’s first sermon links repentance, forgiveness, and then the gift of the Holy Spirit (Acts 2:38-39). The promise is for you. When that power hits, you do not crawl—you run. Mountains that once loomed now hear your voice and obey (Mark 11:23). Sickness that once mocked you now flees because Satan, not God, is its author (Acts 10:38; Luke 13:16). This is applied eschatology right now: the age of Jesus on the throne, empowering His body to do greater works (John 14:12).

Paul says, “Run in such a way as to get the prize” (1 Corinthians 9:24). Losers sit down in fear and baby-crawl, congratulating themselves on staying “on the path.” Winners blast forward on faith and power. The faithless will tell you otherwise. They will say, “God sovereignly gave you that cancer to teach you something.” That is not sovereignty; that is blasphemy dressed as piety. God is the metaphysical author of all things, yes—my Systematic Theology spells it out in the metaphysics section—but on the relational level where He commands us, He is Healer, not disease Santa. Claiming God authors your sickness is the same as claiming you are an Egyptian or Philistine under direct curse. If you are in Christ, you are under Abraham’s blessing, not Adam’s curse. Jesus already carried those stripes (Isaiah 53:4-5; Matthew 8:17).

The same Spirit that raised Jesus is in you. The same authority that commanded storms to be still is yours. The baptism of the Spirit is not optional decoration; it is the supercharger that turns ordinary Christians into heroes who turn rain off like a faucet (James 5:17-18).

Self-debasement is almost always unbelief dressed up stupid. If someone whines about “God’s mysterious sovereignty” while their congregation stays sick, broke, and powerless—they have already stepped off the sidewalk into the dark. Faith-fumblers peddle endless suffering. They are not walking the sidewalk of wisdom—they are face-down in the ditch, eating gravel and calling it “deep.” They reject baptism in the Spirit, reject healing on demand, reject prosperity as part of the gospel, and then wonder why their prayers hit the ceiling.

Do not follow them. They are blind liars pretending to be wise. If they are not baptized in the Spirit, they have rejected the very power that proves election. If they teach suffering is their teacher, they have rejected the love that strengthens the inner man. Their blood should run cold, because they are leading people to betray the King, and their blood now stains their hands.

Faith applies God’s Word deductively to yourself; faith in this sense is a biblical syllogism applying God’s word to you. It is wisdom in action. You take the premise “God cannot lie” (Titus 1:2), add the premise “By His stripes you were healed” (1 Peter 2:24), and the conclusion is inescapable: I am healed. That is not positive thinking. That is wisdom 101. No induction, no human speculation, no “maybe.” Just “God said, therefore I am.” When you live that way, reality obeys because the same God who spoke the universe into existence has decided that your faith-filled words carry His authority. That is how you run the race to win it.

Paul said, “Run in such a way as to get the prize” (1 Corinthians 9:24). You cannot win by crawling in fear. You win by believing every promise is “Yes” in Christ (2 Corinthians 1:20) and then marching into the throne room like the co-heir you are.

So here is the straight talk. The fear of the Lord put you on the path. Good. Stay on it. But for the love of God, stop sitting there shaking. Get up. Know how wide and deep His love is for you. Then run—flat out—by faith. Believe for the healing. Believe for the miracle. Believe for the financial breakthrough. Believe for the power that makes demons scream and sickness flee. God is not looking for careful crawlers; He is looking for sons who will make Him proud. He wants to point at you one day and say, “That guy right there—he pleased Me. He took Me at My word. He ran the race like a champion.”

The path of wisdom is the path of faith, because faith is simply God’s knowledge applied to yourself with understanding. And on that path there is no condemnation. So fear the Lord—yes. But then run like the Flash in the other direction: straight into the arms of the Father who loves you more than you can imagine and who has already said “yes” to every good thing you will ever ask.

Know His love until your inner man explodes with strength. Then blast down the sidewalk on the rocket fuel of faith, baptized in the same power that raised Jesus from the dead. The finish line is not survival; it is “Well done, good and faithful servant.” The heroes of faith are waiting to cheer you on. The faithless are already tumbling into the darkness they chose. Choose wisely. Run like the Flash. Win the prize. God is pointing at you right now, saying, “This one pleases Me because he has faith.” Let Him be right.

Keeping Your Love For Jesus White Hot

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Blasphemy Against the Holy Spirit Awareness Month

We are kicking off January as Blasphemy Against the Holy Spirit Awareness Month. Hat tip to Vincent Cheung for nailing that label and pushing this idea forward. Look, we’ve got churches full of folks tiptoeing around miracles like they’re handling nitroglycerin, but Jesus didn’t mince words on this. Blasphemy against the Spirit isn’t some dusty relic from the Pharisees’ playbook; it’s a live wire humming in modern pews, zapping faith before it sparks.

A lot of so-called theology out there is just dressed-up unbelief, whispering that healing and power are “not for today.” That’s not piety—it’s soul damning peril.

First off, Jesus didn’t just waltz into ministry with a sermon and a smile; He launched it by claiming Isaiah’s prophecy as His own blueprint. Flip to Luke 4, where He stands in the synagogue, unrolls the scroll to Isaiah 61, and reads: “The Spirit of the Lord is on me, because he has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind, to set the oppressed free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.” Then He rolls it up, sits down, and drops the mic: “Today this scripture is fulfilled in your hearing.” Boom. The Spirit’s anointing wasn’t for show— it was for action. Healing, healing, healing, and preaching gospel to the broke and poor. Isaiah paints a picture of liberation from demonic oppression, sickness, and poverty, all under the Spirit’s power. Jesus embodied that, storming Satan’s kingdom like a one-man demolition crew. Demons shrieked, bodies mended, and the poor got the VIP treatment in God’s favor. This wasn’t optional flair; it was the core of His mission, fueled by the Spirit to crush the devil’s works. If you’re sidelining miracles today, you’re editing Jesus’ job description—and that’s not faith, that’s demonic vandalism.

Now, fast-forward to Mark 1, Jesus wastes no time showing what Spirit-empowered ministry looks like in action. What miracle does Mark show Jesus starting out with? Casting out a demon in His own house. Not out in the pagan wilds, but right in the synagogue—His own house, the heart of Jewish worship. A man with an unclean spirit cries out, “What do you want with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are—the Holy One of God!” Jesus shuts him down: “Be quiet! Come out of him!” The demon convulses the guy and bolts with a shriek. The crowd’s buzzing: “What is this? A new teaching—and with authority! He even gives orders to impure spirits and they obey him.” Notice the venue: not a Roman temple or a Samaritan street, but the synagogue. Demons weren’t just lurking in heathen lands; they were comfy in God’s house, oppressing His people with torment and bondage. Mark makes a point to show Jesus starting His miracle spree by evicting the kingdom of demons out of His Father’s house. It’s a stark reminder—the kingdom of darkness doesn’t respect sacred spaces; it infiltrates them. And Jesus, anointed by the Spirit, confronts it head-on, freeing folks from pain and possession. If your church is demon-free but miracle-starved, ask why. Maybe the Spirit’s flow got dammed up by doubt. Maybe there are more demon filled people in the pews and Spirit filed ones, including your pastor. Jesus didn’t start with outsiders; He cleaned house first, because oppression in the family of God is an affront to His Father’s love.

That house-cleaning didn’t sit well, though, and by Mark 3, the resistance boils over into outright confrontation—from Jesus’ own kin and the religious elite. His family hears the crowds and buzz, thinks He’s lost it, and shows up to “take charge of him,” saying, “He is out of his mind.” But here’s the kicker—Mark slips in that Jesus was furious. In verse 5, amid healing a man’s shriveled hand on the Sabbath, He looks around at their stubborn hearts “in anger and, deeply distressed at their stubborn hearts.” The Greek word for anger there is “orge,” raw fury at their hardness. His own people, resisting the Spirit’s breakthrough, opposing the liberation He’d come to bring. They saw demons fleeing, bodies healing, and instead of rejoicing, they resisted God’s love and power. Sound familiar? Jesus got mad because this wasn’t just bad theology—it was blocking freedom for the oppressed. The Spirit’s anointing was for healing and deliverance, yet His own house pushed back, preferring tradition over transformation. If you’re in a camp that slows the miracle flow, you’re not just missing out; you’re mirroring that resistance, and Jesus’ anger at stubborn hearts hasn’t cooled.

Jesus doesn’t back down from that pushback; in Matthew 12, He goes on the offensive, turning the tables and issuing a chilling warning that cuts to the core of this sin. It starts with a bang: Jesus heals a demon-possessed man who’s blind and mute—bam, the guy sees and speaks. The crowd’s electric: “Could this be the Son of David?” But the Pharisees, those gatekeepers of unbelief, sneer, “It’s only by Beelzebul, the prince of demons, that this fellow drives out demons.” Jesus dismantles their nonsense: divided kingdoms fall; if Satan’s evicting his own, he’s toast. Then He clarifies: “But if it is by the Spirit of God that I drive out demons, then the kingdom of God has come upon you.” Boom—He attributes the power not to Himself, but to the Spirit. The Pharisees thought they were jabbing at Jesus, but since it was the Spirit at work, their words landed on Him. They saw undeniable divine power smashing demonic oppression—sickness, blindness, muteness—and credited it to Satan. That’s not a slip-up; that’s an idle word of unbelief slung at the face of the Spirit’s healing ministry.

And that’s when Jesus drops the hammer: “Every kind of sin and slander can be forgiven, but blasphemy against the Spirit will not be forgiven. Anyone who speaks a word against the Son of Man will be forgiven, but anyone who speaks against the Holy Spirit will not be forgiven, either in this age or in the age to come.” Why the Spirit specifically? Context screams it’s tied to miracles and healing. Jesus didn’t nuke them for botched tithing or weak preaching; it was their direct assault on the Spirit-powered healing right in front of them. They witnessed liberation from pain and bondage—the very mandate from Isaiah—and called it demonic. That’s blasphemy: attributing the Holy Spirit’s work to evil. And Jesus ties it to gathering or scattering: “Whoever is not with me is against me, and whoever does not gather with me scatters.” No middle ground. Lazy on miracles? You’re actively opposing Him, hand-in-hand with demons without realizing it. The Spirit’s anointing was for healing those in pain and good news to the poor; resist that, and you’re walking on unforgivable turf.

Fast-forward to today, and the church is riddled with this sin dressed up in Sunday best. Folks dismiss miracles as “not for now” or hedge with “if it’s God’s will,” attributing the Spirit’s healing ministry power to Satan’s playbook or human hype. That’s blasphemy in piety’s clothing, folks. And get this: Even careless words count. Matthew 12:36-37 says we’ll give account for every idle word—by your words you’re justified or condemned. Speak against the Spirit’s healing ministry? You’re playing with eternal fire.

Look at 1 Corinthians 12-14. Paul corrects abuses in the gifts—selfish showmanship, disorder—but does he shut it down? No way. He urges more: “Earnestly desire the greater gifts,” “do not forbid speaking in tongues,” pursue love and eagerness for spiritual gifts, especially prophecy. He didn’t cross into blasphemy by telling them to slow down or stop. Instead, he pushed for more Spirit-empowered ministry, done right with love and not self-seeking. The line? Criticize selfish abuse, sure, but never hint at less healing, less miracles, less tongues, less prophecy. If only an idle word touches the Spirit you are eternally dammed, which is why if a cessationist tries to do what Paul did, they will likely commit the unforgivable sin. If someone even whispers, “dial it back,” get very suspicious; a whole bunch of red flags should be popping up in your mind. They are likely channelling demons without knowing it. It might already be too late for them.

Bottom line: Rally behind miracle ministry like your soul depends on it—because it does. Heal the sick, cast out demons, raise the dead; it’s gospel in motion, or at least charge in faith till it happens. Jesus promises: seek, and you’ll find. Neutral on this? Jesus brands you an enemy. You’re unwittingly teaming with demons, holding their hand in the dark.

But as for us? We’ll stoke the fire in ourselves and others for more Spirit-powered healing and miracles. No other reality exists. No other God but this One. It’s the path of health, freedom, liberation. Why settle for shadows when the light’s blazing? Let’s make this awareness month count—expose the blasphemy, embrace the power, and watch Satan’s kingdom crumble.

Direct and Constant Access to God

Years ago, when I first dove into Vincent Cheung’s commentary on Colossians, it hit me like thunderclap. There I was, flipping through chapter 2, and Vincent further explains what Paul calls “shadows” or “shadow religion”—those rituals, holidays, and sensory crutches that masquerade as piety but throw a veil over the direct, unfiltered access to God that Jesus secured for us. It’s not just ancient Jewish festivals Paul was warning against; Vincent applies it straight to our modern mess, like Christmas trees and Easter bunnies, turning what should be a vibrant, Spirit-drenched faith into a dim echo of the real thing. The church today needs this message hammered home, because we’re no better than those early believers clinging to calendar days, thinking they add something extra when Jesus already delivered the full package. His atonement is finished, His ascension locked in that ongoing ministry of blessings at the Father’s right hand—no bells, no smells, no seasonal vibes required to tap into it. We’ve got it all, right now, if we’d just believe.

In his Commentary on Colossians (2008), Vincent Cheung unpacks Colossians 2:16-17: “These are a shadow of the things that were to come; the reality, however, is found in Christ.” He drives home how Paul is dismantling the Colossian heresy that promised deeper spirituality but delivered nothing but chains. Vincent writes, “The regulations mentioned—’Do not handle! Do not taste! Do not touch!’—refer to things that are all destined to perish with use, because they are based on human commands and teachings. Such regulations indeed have an appearance of wisdom, with their self-imposed worship, their false humility and their harsh treatment of the body, but they lack any value in restraining sensual indulgence” (Colossians 2:21-23). Then he ties it to contemporary traps: “Christian traditions like Christmas or Lent often function the same way, imposing man-made observances that veil the direct reality of Christ. They suggest we need these shadows to approach God, when the substance is already ours in Him.” It’s a reminder that anything sensory—sights, sounds, smells—we lean on to “feel closer” to God is just a step back into the old covenant’s dim previews, when we’ve got the high-definition fulfillment in Jesus.

Paul isn’t mincing words—these observances were pointers, not the point. The reality is Christ, full stop. No more veils, no more middleman rituals. Satan loves these shadows because they distract from the direct line Jesus opened. The church today is starved for this truth—we’re drowning in sensory religion while the Spirit’s river flows untapped, and the word is not believed.

 In a world where barriers seem to define so much of our existence—whether it’s the red tape of bureaucracy, the emotional walls we build in relationships, or even the digital firewalls that guard our online lives—it’s liberating to consider what the Bible teaches about our access to God. This isn’t some distant, occasional privilege reserved for the spiritual elite, like a VIP pass to a concert that only works on special occasions. No, through Jesus Christ, we have direct and constant access to the Father, a reality that reshapes everything from our answered prayers to our eternal confidence. As I reflect on this, I can’t help but think how the faithless complicate what God has made straightforward.

The New Testament paints a vivid picture of this access, rooted in the finished work of Christ. Consider Ephesians 2:18, where Paul declares, “For through him we both have access to the Father by one Spirit.” Here, the apostle is addressing the radical shift brought by Jesus’ death and resurrection, tearing down the dividing wall between Jews and Gentiles, but more broadly, between humanity and God. Before Christ, access was mediated through priests, sacrifices, and the temple veil—a system of shadows that pointed forward but never fully delivered the intimacy we now enjoy. That veil, symbolizing separation due to sin, was literally torn in two at the moment of Jesus’ crucifixion (Matthew 27:51), signaling that the way into the Holy of Holies is now open to all who believe. It’s not a seasonal thing, like waiting for the right festival or the perfect alignment of stars; it’s constant, available at any hour, in any circumstance. Hebrews 4:16 urges us to “approach God’s throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.” Boldly! Not with timidity or hesitation, as if we’re crashing a party uninvited. This is the throne room of the universe’s Sovereign, and we’re welcomed as sons and daughters, not strangers.

We can approach those ancient throne room doors to God Himself. We can push against them and swing those massive doors wide open. As we look, the middle of the throne room is empty. But off to the sides are angels and other heavenly hosts. They do not stand in the middle, before God, because they don’t have that type of access. But we do. All eyes watch us as we march down the center aisle, with our heads held high. We march in with boldness, as if we are God’s sons, who are co-heirs—not just mere sub-heirs—with Jesus Christ. We walk in with our heads held high, as if we are the very body of Jesus Christ, because we are. We were not first given a specific reason to come in at that moment. But we can anyway, unannounced. We stand before the throne, looking at God face to face, and boldly make our requests known to God. And God gives us what we ask for. God does this because when He sees us, He sees His Son. He thinks we are part of His Son, and God’s thoughts are the only thoughts that matter on the subject. God is correct, and I agree with God. I am part of Jesus and get prayers answered while boldly walking in and asking without hedging. Who am I to disagree with the Power?

To grasp the depth of this, we look back to the Old Testament contrasts that highlight the new covenant’s superiority. In Exodus 19, when God descended on Mount Sinai, the people trembled at a distance, warned not to touch the mountain lest they die. Even Moses, that great mediator, approached with fear and awe. Yet, in the New Testament, we’re invited to draw near without such dread, because Jesus has become our great High Priest who “ever lives to intercede” for us (Hebrews 7:25). This intercession isn’t a barrier; it’s the guarantee of our direct line to the Father. Romans 5:2 echoes this: “through whom we have gained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand.” Notice the present tense—we stand in it now, not sporadically or conditionally. Faith is the key that unlocks this, and as Vincent Cheung aptly notes in his commentary on faith’s role, it provides “unhindered, direct access to God,” serving as proof of our election. We don’t manufacture this access through rituals or good deeds; it’s gifted through Christ’s atonement, where He bore our sins and opened the path once for all.

 In Ephesians 2, it says we’re sitting with Jesus in the heavenly places. Not that we will be one day, but we already are. If you don’t see yourself that way, it’s because you do not believe God’s word and think He is a liar. Repent and start to agree with your Creator. Think about it. At this very moment, when the Father thinks of you, He thinks you are right now seated with Jesus, who sits at His right hand. He never thinks less of you than in that position with Jesus. If you are not experiencing the benefits of being seated with Jesus right now, that’s your fault and unbelief. God thinks you are, and so you are.

Too many Christians treat this access like an old phone line they only pick up in emergencies, crackling with static from doubt or tradition. They pile on layers of “helps,” like special days or sensory aids, thinking it draws them closer, when in reality, it veils the directness Jesus secured. Days like Christmas or Easter, while culturally ingrained, aren’t biblical doctrines, and so they can subtly shift our focus from revelation and the Spirit to a fleshly starting point. The early church faced similar temptations with Jewish festivals, as Paul warns in Colossians 2:16-17: “Therefore do not let anyone judge you by what you eat or drink, or with regard to a religious festival, a New Moon celebration or a Sabbath day. These are a shadow of the things that were to come; the reality, however, is found in Christ.” Shadows! They’re not the substance. The reason a person wants a shadow and not the real thing is because they do not believe the real exists, or worse, they don’t like it. Our access isn’t enhanced by smells of incense or sounds of carols; it’s sustained by the Holy Spirit, who cries out “Abba, Father” within us (Romans 8:15). This reluctance to embrace constant access often stems from unbelief, masquerading as humility. We think, “Who am I to march boldly into God’s presence?” But the Bible flips that: “How dare you not boldly approach, when Christ has paid such a high price?”

Delving deeper into Scripture, Ephesians 3:12 reinforces this boldness: “In him and through faith in him we may approach God with freedom and confidence.” Freedom—that’s the Greek word parrhesia, implying open, unreserved speech, like chatting with a close friend rather than petitioning a distant king. This isn’t license for irreverence, but it shatters any notion of intermittent access. Jesus Himself modeled this in His prayers, addressing the Father intimately, and He invites us to do the same in John 16:26-27: “In that day you will ask in my name. I am not saying that I will ask the Father on your behalf. No, the Father himself loves you because you have loved me and have believed that I came from God.” See that? No middleman needed beyond Christ’s ongoing mediation, which empowers our direct petitions. This ties into our identity as co-heirs with Christ (Romans 8:17), where all things are ours, including this unfettered communion. It’s about asking for wants and getting them, but it also includes all sorts of benefits, such as constant and direct fellowship, where we abide in Him as branches in the vine (John 15:4-5), drawing life, miracles, prosperity, and every sort of favor, moment by moment.

Hebrews 10:19-22 urges, “Therefore, brothers and sisters, since we have confidence to enter the Most Holy Place by the blood of Jesus, by a new and living way opened for us through the curtain, that is, his body… let us draw near to God with a sincere heart and with the full assurance that faith brings.” The “new and living way” isn’t static; it’s dynamic, sustained by faith that actively receives. Unbelief can hinder this, much like the Israelites who limited God by their grumbling (Psalm 78:41). They had manna from heaven, yet craved Egypt’s leeks—a foolish trade. Similarly, if we doubt our access, we forfeit the peace, power, and provision flowing from God’s throne.

“Beloved, now we are children of God… we shall be like Him, for we shall see Him as He is. And everyone who has this hope in Him purifies himself, just as He is pure,” (1 John 3:2-3 NKJV). “Set your mind on things above, not on things on the earth. For you died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. When Christ who is our life…,” (Colossians 3:2-3 NKJV). We draw strength not from self-effort, but from this constant access, where our seated position in Christ refines us by walking in that position when we ask, receive, and praise God. As we see ourselves better as already seated with Jesus, seeing His rich life pouring into us, the more we purify ourselves. The better we see how awesome we are in Christ and walk in that bold access, the more we have power to walk in purity and holiness. People often try to do the opposite of John’s instruction. The order is to first believe who you are, and the proof that you are believing your identity in Christ is if you can boldly ask and receive miracles, and then by doing this you will purify yourself in holiness.

Imagine waking up, not with a list of rituals to “get right with God,” but with the immediate awareness that the throne room doors are swung wide. You pray for healing, and James 5:15 assures, “The prayer offered in faith will make the sick person well; the Lord will raise them up.” You seek wisdom, and James 1:5 promises generous provision without reproach. Even in trials, like Peter’s denial followed by restoration (John 21), access remains, because our standing is in Christ’s righteousness, not our performance. The callings and gifts of God are irrevocable. God sees you as already righteous without any sinful markings on your record. And what God thinks is the only thinking that matters. This is irrevocable. Your righteousness record is forever. God thinks you are a royal priesthood, now, not later. God thinks you are seated with His Son in the heavenly places. This is irrevocable. It was based on Jesus’ finished work and given freely to you in grace. It has nothing to do with your performance.

Direct and constant access to God isn’t a theological footnote; it’s the heartbeat of the gospel. It mocks the idea that we need additives to spice up our spirituality, reminding us that Christ is sufficient. As we stand in this grace, let’s live it out with the frank boldness it deserves—no more hiding behind shadows when the Light Himself beckons us near. If we’re not experiencing this daily, perhaps it’s time to examine our faith, repent of unbelief, and step into the throne room. After all, the Father isn’t stingy; He’s extravagantly welcoming, eager for our company. In the words of 1 John 5:14-15, “This is the confidence we have in approaching God: that if we ask anything according to his will, he hears us. And if we know that he hears us—whatever we ask—we know that we have what we asked of him.” That’s not wishful thinking; that’s gospel power, yours for the taking. Because God sees us as part of His Son, and thinks the blessing of Abraham already applies to us, “what we want” is the threshold that qualifies as “asking according to His will.” The only time what we want is not God’s will is if it violates a specific command or a word of direction the Spirit spoke to us. Thus, we can always ask in confidence knowing, “what we want” is what we get.

 Faith isn’t waiting around for special days or moods; it’s grabbing hold of the promises now, because Jesus is already interceding with all the good stuff He pledged. Think about it: if the early church got tangled in Jewish Sabbaths thinking it helped their standing, aren’t we doing the same with Christmas carols and advent wreaths? It’s like showing up to a feast with your own sack lunch—you miss the bounty because you’re stuck on shadows. And let’s be frank, if your faith needs twinkly lights to sparkle, maybe it’s time to check if the power’s even plugged in. Imagine trading divine Wi-Fi for a holiday dial-up connection—talk about a spiritual lag!

Shadow religion veils the intellectual, spiritual core of Christianity. It’s empiricism in pious drag, basing faith on feelings and festivities rather than revelation. But Jesus’ high priestly role means constant access—no calendar needed. If we’re born from above, we’re insiders in the Father’s house, with rooms prepared. If your Christmas ham tastes better than the bread of life, you’ve got your feasts mixed up. That’s like preferring MRE meal to a gourmet banquet from the King.

Let’s ditch the veils and live in the full benefits that Christ already won for us—bold, direct access, and miracle-ready. To drive it home, consider the ethical fallout: shadow religion dishonors Christ’s sufficiency. As sons, we’re co-heirs with eternal rooms prepared (John 14:2-3), yet holidays suggest that calendars somehow help us sit closer to Jesus in the heavenly places. However, miracles aren’t holiday perks; they’re gospel proofs. If you tie them to Christmas, you’re unbelieving the very good news that sets us free. If you think miracles happen more around Christmas than from a daily prayer spoken in faith, then maybe check who’s really guiding your sled—your flesh or faith? Santa’s list might be naughty or nice, but God’s access is always “yes” in Christ—no reindeer required.

This delusion of seasonal surges stems from defective anthropology, viewing man as sense-bound rather than Spirit-led and word-based. The gospel tells us we are redeemed, righteous, headed to glory, designed for miracles now. Calendars chain us to the old man; faith unleashes the new creation (2 Corinthians 5:17). Feeling closer via festivities? That’s flesh talking, empirical highs mimicking intimacy. Do you feel distant? That is the chill of a religious shadow, exposing your drift from reality. The cure? Deductive faith in Scripture: Jesus’ finished atonement and our current reality seated with Him means miracles come through faith, not calendar dates.

The Power of God Is Here to Heal

In the Gospel of Luke, we encounter a powerful and vivid scene that perfectly illustrates divine authority in action: “One day Jesus was teaching, and Pharisees and teachers of the law were sitting there. They had come from every village of Galilee and from Judea and Jerusalem. And the power of the Lord was with Jesus to heal the sick” (Luke 5:17, NIV).

This wasn’t some vague, ethereal spiritual mist floating around like early morning haze—no way. It was the tangible, manifest presence of God’s raw authority, actively enabling Jesus to confront sickness and demonic oppression head-on, without hesitation. Peter later echoes this truth powerfully in Acts, declaring 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” (Acts 10:38, NIV). This should shake up any believer who’s settled for a powerless version of faith: this identical power, this very anointing of the Holy Spirit, isn’t sealed away in some historical archive exclusively for Jesus. Because of His finished work on the cross, His resurrection, His ascension to the right hand of Power, and His glorious outpouring of the Spirit at Pentecost, we now have direct access to that same explosive force. Yet, far too many of us live as if we’re still waiting for the spiritual UPS truck to finally arrive with our package.

Let’s unpack this thoroughly and biblically, because relying on mere empirical observations or fleshy experiences is about as useful as installing a screen door on a submarine when it comes to discerning God’s revelation. Jesus operated fully as a man under the law, born at the appointed time to redeem those who were trapped beneath it (Galatians 4:4-5). Importantly, He didn’t perform healings by tapping into His inherent divinity during His earthly ministry; instead, He did it all through the anointing of the Holy Spirit, deliberately modeling the pattern for ordinary humanity empowered by God. This is crucial—it shows us exactly how we’re meant to operate today. “If it is by the Spirit of God that I drive out demons, then the kingdom of God has come upon you,” Matthew 12:28. Jesus tell us plainly that He was casting out demons by the Spirit’s power, not His. And it is for this reason we can be like Jesus, because He has given us the same Spirit empowered ministry. This is why the tired excuse of the faithless, “well that was Jesus, or that was the apostles,” is inexcusable. Excommunicate any such people out of your life.

Jesus Himself issued this staggering promise that should ignite every believer: “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” (John 14:12, NIV). If that doesn’t feel like a direct invitation to step boldly into the same arena of supernatural power, then what would?

Consider the seamless transition from Jesus’ earthly ministry to the ongoing ministry of His church. He ascended to heaven not to retire comfortably on a cloud strumming a harp, but to actively pour out the promised Holy Spirit—the baptism specifically for power (Acts 1:4-8). This isn’t some optional premium upgrade reserved for a select spiritual elite; it’s the standard, essential equipment for every genuine disciple who’s serious about advancing God’s kingdom on earth. Peter drove this home unmistakably on the day of Pentecost: repent, be baptized in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of sins, and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit—this promise is for you, for your children, and for all who are far off, everyone whom the Lord our God calls to himself (Acts 2:38-39, NIV). Paul reinforces and expands this in Galatians, connecting the blessing of Abraham—which explicitly includes receiving the Spirit through faith—to us Gentiles as well, all through Christ Jesus (Galatians 3:14, NIV). We’re not talking about a faint, barely audible whisper of the Spirit here; this is rivers of living water flowing powerfully from within the believer, empowering us to heal the sick, prophesy boldly, cast out demons decisively, and turn the world upside down, just as the early church demonstrated so vividly.

Sadly, too many Christians today treat this available power like it’s some expired container of yogurt hidden in the back of the fridge—technically still there, but they’d rather not risk opening it. They’ll often hide behind a misunderstood view of God’s sovereignty, as if His absolute control somehow turns us into passive fatalists with no responsibility to act. But they conveniently overlook that the very same sovereign God commands us explicitly to eagerly desire and pursue spiritual gifts (1 Corinthians 14:1). I’ve personally observed how unbelief can cleverly masquerade as false piety or intellectual humility, effectively blocking the free flow of God’s power in our lives and ministries. Some believers are quick to claim forgiveness solely by faith without hesitation, yet when the topic shifts to healing or miracles, suddenly it becomes “only if it’s God’s will.” That’s inconsistent nonsense. If we applied that same doubtful logic to forgiveness, we’d pray in faith for forgiveness while secretly wondering if God might sovereignly choose not to grant it after all. Total faithless hypocrisy. Let’s call it what it is; a mockery of the atonement of Jesus and the sovereignty of God.

The Bible consistently frames healing as the children’s bread, an integral part of the blessing of Abraham that we inherit and claim through bold faith (Matthew 15:26-28; Galatians 3:13-14). Jesus never paused to check the Father’s current mood or get special permission before healing someone; He simply acted in compassion, systematically destroying the works of Satan because the power of the Lord was present to heal (Luke 13:16; Acts 10:38). And that power source? None other than the Holy Spirit—the same One Jesus promised and poured out upon all believers.

Think about the story of the woman with the issue of blood for twelve long years. She didn’t wait passively for a divine memorandum or scheduled appointment; she pressed through the crowd, touched the hem of Jesus’ garment in faith, and immediately power flowed out from Him to heal her completely (Luke 8:43-48). Jesus Himself felt the power go out; she felt the healing surge through her body—it was undeniably real and tangible, like a surge of spiritual electricity coursing through a live wire. That’s precisely the kind of dynamic, faith-activated encounter we’re all invited into today. We don’t beg or grovel; we believe and receive, because our judgment was fully settled at the cross, leaving only grace and empowerment ahead for God’s children (Hebrews 12:1-11). Yet, influenced by defective or cessationist theology, some make endless excuses for why the power doesn’t manifest consistently today. They’ll say things like, “Well, we just don’t see it in our experience anymore,” as if their observations are an epistemology over the promises of Scripture.  Seriously, how dumb can you be, to think knowledge comes by observation? That’s not being real; that’s unbelief and delusion.

Vincent Cheung puts it sharply when he writes (paraphrased from “Habitual Sin,” Sermonettes Vol. 6): a stubborn focus on sin or lack can dominate our thinking, but true faith shifts attention to holiness and draws continual strength from Christ’s ongoing work.

 Applying this to the realm of power, if we fixate on our perceived shortcomings or past failures instead of Christ’s finished gospel, we’ll inevitably miss out on His healing, His provision, and even the full baptism of the Holy Spirit. But for those born from above, it’s all ours for the eager asking—persistently, expectantly, just like the disciples waiting obediently in the upper room in Jerusalem. And when that power finally breaks through? Get ready for the unexpected fireworks: explosive boldness to preach the gospel fearlessly, spiritual gifts manifesting suddenly and powerfully, demons fleeing in terror, and sickness bowing in defeat. I’ve experienced this transformation in my own life—after seasons of divine discipline and refining, intentionally focusing on Jesus as the author and perfecter of our faith opened wide doors to greater measures of supernatural power. It’s not theoretical or mystical; it’s functional and practical, directly advancing the kingdom with every single healing, every accurate prophecy, every impossible mountain moved by faith.

So, why on earth would anyone settle for a version of Christianity that’s all eloquent talk and zero thunderous demonstration? The same power of God that rested upon Jesus for healing is now available upon us, accessed through faith and the baptism in the Holy Spirit. It’s not something we earn through performance; it’s something we receive freely because it’s already been accomplished by Christ and we have already be re-created by its effects. If you’re still dragging your feet or making excuses, remember: unbelief actually limited what even Jesus could do in certain places during His ministry (Mark 6:5-6). Don’t let that same unbelief limit God’s power in and through your life. Seek the baptism earnestly, stir up the gifts already within you, command sickness to leave in Jesus’ name by faith, and watch God’s power flow freely. After all, as true heirs of Abraham’s blessing, we’re not beggars scrambling for crumbs outside the gate; we’re beloved sons and daughters seated at the Father’s table, with healing, miracles, deliverance, and every good gift in plentiful supply.

The Bible doesn’t leave us in the dark about how the Holy Spirit operates in distributing His gifts. In 1 Corinthians 12, Paul explains clearly: the Spirit sovereignly distributes the manifestations as He determines, moving where He wills like the unpredictable wind. No one can twist His arm—He’s God, sovereign and free. Yet, immediately following this, Paul flips the perspective in chapter 14: “Pursue love, and earnestly desire the spiritual gifts, especially that you may prophesy” (1 Corinthians 14:1, ESV). Sovereignty doesn’t mean we passively sit on our hands waiting indefinitely; it means we pursue aggressively and eagerly, fully confident that He’s promised regular manifestations to those who hunger and seek Him. It’s reminiscent of the Father’s incredibly generous heart described in Luke 11: “If you then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!” (Luke 11:13, ESV). So ask boldly, seek persistently, knock relentlessly—and expect to receive abundantly. God’s sovereignty isn’t a roadblock or excuse for powerlessness; it’s the rock-solid guarantee that our faithful pursuit will never end in disappointment.

This dynamic will happen frequently in real ministry. The gifts are primarily for the edification and benefit of others. So whenever a genuine need arises and you respond with true compassion, the power of the Spirit will often show up right then to anoint you specifically to meet that need. It doesn’t depend on whether you’ve previously operated easily in that particular gift; you’re freshly anointed in the moment to serve those around you. Of course, some believers may find certain gifts flow more naturally or frequently for them, but many make the grave error of then limiting the Holy Spirit based on that pattern. In reality, all of us, through the same Spirit, have unrestricted access to the full spectrum of God’s power. All it takes is faith to believe, a clear need to address, and genuine compassion to motivate—and the Spirit will desire to flow through you even more eagerly than you desire it yourself.

Just as the woman with the flow of blood dramatically “felt” the healing power surge into her body, the Spirit’s power is often tangible and perceptible. When the healing anointing of the Spirit is sensed or felt by more than one person in the room, we can describe this as the manifesting presence of God has arrived to heal—or to prophesy, or to deliver. This incredible reality is available to every single one of us through the baptism in the Holy Spirit. We all need more of it, deeper immersions, fresh fillings. The needs of hurting people around us, but the power of the Spirit is greater. A combination of faith, compassion, and eagerness to seek this power will inevitably bring results. As Jesus Himself promised, if you seek, you will find (Matthew 7:7, ESV).

Paul reiterates the Spirit’s sovereignty in 1 Corinthians 12: “All these are empowered by one and the same Spirit, who apportions to each one individually as he wills” (1 Corinthians 12:11, ESV). He sovereignly distributes gifts like words of wisdom, words of knowledge, extraordinary faith, gifts of healing, working of miracles, prophecy, discerning of spirits, various kinds of tongues, and interpretation of tongues. It’s entirely His prerogative—no coercion possible. But sovereignty isn’t a restrictive cage; it’s a powerful catapult for those who pursue. Paul doesn’t instruct us to “sit tight and maybe you’ll get something someday.” Instead, he commands: “Earnestly desire the higher gifts” (1 Corinthians 12:31, ESV), and then intensifies the call in chapter 14 to pursue them all actively, especially prophecy. God’s sovereignty has beautifully rigged the system so that sincere seekers consistently hit the jackpot—regular, reliable manifestations of power rather than rare flukes. So if you currently operate more easily in one or two gifts, ok great—keep going! But press in further, and God will expand your capacity to flow in more gifts as you seek Him faithfully. A person’s perceived idea that they are meant to operate in one particular gift, is based only their fleshing induction rather than what the scripture makes available.

Sovereignty isn’t stingy or withholding—it’s extravagantly generous, even breaking through our doubts to deliver miracles when necessary. But why settle for occasional overrides when we can align our hearts with His will and experience constant flow? Active seeking aligns us perfectly, turning “sometimes” into “constant” in practice. The Spirit’s sovereignty assures us that when we chase Him wholeheartedly, He will pour out without measure. As Cheung further notes in “Good Gifts from the Father,” persistently asking for the Holy Spirit unlocks comprehensive power for preaching, healing, casting out demons—everything the kingdom requires, all in one glorious package (Vincent Cheung, 2016). Seek diligently, and the sovereign Spirit will manifest regularly.

Consider the Roman centurion in Matthew 8— he perfectly understood authority and sovereignty, confidently declaring that Jesus could simply speak a command over sickness just as he commanded soldiers. Jesus marveled publicly: “Truly I tell you, I have not found anyone in Israel with such great faith” (Matthew 8:10, ESV). Grasping God’s sovereignty didn’t make the centurion passive or hesitant—it fueled his bold, expectant request. Sickness is ultimately from the devil; it glorifies Satan by sidelining believers and stalling kingdom advance. The Holy Spirit shows up decisively to demolish that oppression, anointing ordinary believers like you and me to heal in the moment—no fancy resume or prior track record required.

Compassion is key.

This anointing will often happen precisely because the gifts are for building up and blessing others. When a real need suddenly appears on the scene, the Spirit provides spot-anointing, equipping you right then and there. You don’t need advanced degrees in spiritual gifts or years of specialized experience; all that’s required is some measure of faith to receive the anointing and genuine compassion to minister to the hurting person.

Sickness originates from the devil; it’s part of the curse of the law that Jesus redeemed us from, and He began demolishing it systematically in His ministry while commanding all His disciples to continue the battle without compromise. We are explicitly commanded to exercise faith for healing—both for ourselves and in compassion for others. Chase prophecy like your spiritual life depends on it—because in many ways, it does. Refusing to pursue prophecy is essentially refusing to pursue God Himself more deeply. Remember Paul’s charge to Timothy: fan into flame the gift of God within you, hold fast to the prophecies spoken over you, and fight the good fight of faith with prophetic power (1 Timothy 1:18; 2 Timothy 1:6-7).  Having compassion and allowing the Spirit to flow through you to help heal, will set a person free from bondage. A prophecy will give them something to fan their faith for a lifetime. And you can be the person to minister this. Young, old, male or female, any can do it. Every power released can save a life, set free and build up for new strength.

In the end, this supernatural power is designed not only for God’s ultimate glory but also for our joy and glory, which then glorifies Him. We do this by faithfully mirroring Jesus’ own ministry on earth. It’s like God’s delightful inside joke: when we step out and wield His power by faith, we get flooded with joy in the process, and everybody wins eternally. So chase Him with everything you’ve got, and watch the power chase right back. Believe expectantly, and you’ll see the sick healed, the oppressed gloriously freed, captives released—just as He did then and empowers us to do now. The question isn’t whether the power is still available today; the real question is whether we’ll grab it with both hands and run with it—like it’s the greatest treasure in the universe. Because, spoiler alert: it is.

Our Identification With Christ

We live in a time when too many Christians treat Jesus like a historical figure trapped in the pages of an old book—as if His ministry was a one-and-done spectacle for the crowds in Galilee. But Scripture paints a far different picture: one where our connection to Him is so profound, so ontologically woven into the fabric of reality, that when God looks at us, He sees the exalted Christ. “God did all this to give us unshakable confidence to ask and receive, by showing us how intellectually, relationally, and ontologically we are identified with Jesus” (S.T., page 654). This isn’t some feel-good theology; it’s the bedrock of how we operate in ministry today. Because we’re united with Him—not the earthly Jesus under the law, but the resurrected King pouring out His Spirit—we do the works He did, and even greater, in the same power. Let’s unpack this, drawing straight from God’s Word, and expose the faith-bumblers who’d rather limit God than let Him loose. Limiting God is like trying to cage a cosmic supernova—spoiler: it doesn’t end well for the cage.

Consider the closeness Scripture describes between Jesus and His body, the church. It’s not a loose association, like distant relatives at a family reunion. No, it’s as intimate as a head to its limbs—where the head goes, the arms follow; what empowers one, surges through the other. Paul captures this in Ephesians 2:6, declaring that God “raised us up with Him and seated us with Him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus.” Think about that: right now, in God’s sovereign mind, you’re not scraping by down here; you’re enthroned above every principality, every sickness, every obstacle. This identification means that when God sees you, He sees Jesus. God thinks that right now, I am seated with Jesus in the heavenly places. As Jesus is, so am I in this world. The only reality is the reality that God’s Word creates and sustains. There is no other truth or reality. God thinks I am identified with Jesus, as part of Him. Would God deny Jesus a request? Of course not. Thus, God would not deny me a request, because in God’s mind He considers me as part of Jesus. If we miss this, we mock the gospel, trampling the finished work of Christ as if it left us half-redeemed—not identified with Jesus as part of His body—and limping along until heaven. Frankly, that’s not just bad theology; it’s a cosmic insult, like handing back a gift from the King because you prefer your old rags. Ouch—talk about a divine facepalm.

This union isn’t abstract metaphysics for theologians to debate in ivory towers. It is reality because reality is based on God’s thoughts and words. He considered the old Oshea to have died with Jesus, and a new created Oshea is defined as part of Jesus. By God merely thinking this about me is what creates, shapes, and upholds reality. You cannot get more reality than “God thinks so.” Thus, this has direct implications for ministry. Look at how Jesus Himself operated. In Luke 4:14-19, after His baptism, “Jesus returned in the power of the Spirit to Galilee… He stood up to read… ‘The Spirit of the Lord is upon Me, because He has anointed Me to preach the gospel to the poor; He has sent Me to heal the broken-hearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to set at liberty those who are oppressed.’” Here’s the key: Jesus, as a man born under the law (Galatians 4:4), didn’t rely on His divine nature for miracles. He ministered through the anointing of the Holy Spirit, just as Acts 10:38 confirms: “God anointed Jesus of Nazareth with the Holy Spirit and with power… healing all who were oppressed by the devil.” Even the Son of God modelled dependence on the Spirit’s power for healing, deliverance, and proclamation. Why? Because He was born under the law and operated miracles as a man would; by this, He was the forerunner showing the church how to operate as humans empowered by the Spirit. “Jesus came as a man, born under the law, and even ministered God’s power as a saint does—by the power of the Spirit” (p. 654). He wasn’t flexing inherent deity in isolation; He was demonstrating how Spirit-empowered humanity crushes Satan’s works. Picture Jesus as the ultimate tutorial video: “How to Wreck the Devil’s Plans in Three Easy Steps.”

Now, fast-forward to the ascension. Jesus doesn’t leave us orphaned or downgraded. Instead, He commands the disciples in Acts 1:4-8: “Do not leave Jerusalem, but wait for the Promise of the Father… for John truly baptized with water, but you shall be baptized with the Holy Spirit… But you shall receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you shall be witnesses to Me.” This isn’t optional equipment for apostles only—it’s the same Spirit, the same power, poured out on all believers for ministry. Peter echoes this in Acts 2:33, noting that the exalted Jesus “received from the Father the promise of the Holy Spirit” and poured it out. The result? The early church exploded with miracles, healings, and bold proclamation, far beyond what one man in one place could do. “After His resurrection, Jesus commanded the disciples not to minister or spread the news until they were clothed with the same power of the Spirit.” If Jesus needed the Spirit’s anointing to start His ministry, how much more do we? Yet some theologians act like this power fizzled out after the apostles, as if God got bored with miracles. That’s not cessationism; that’s Satanism, limiting the Holy One of Israel like the Israelites did in the wilderness (Psalm 78:41). God bored? As if the Creator of quantum physics and kittens runs out of ideas.

Jesus promised we’d do “greater works” than He did (John 14:12). Not because we’re superior, but because He’s now on the throne, multiplying His power through a global body. In His earthly ministry, He was localized; now, through us, His reach is exponential. “As great as it would be to be identified with Jesus under the law in His earthly miracle ministry, it is still a limitation, because what we have is greater. This is why Jesus promised we would do greater works!” Imagine: the same Spirit that rested on Jesus now rests on you, empowering you to command mountains (Mark 11:23), heal the sick (James 5:15), and cast out demons (Mark 16:17). It’s not arrogance; it’s obedience. Faith isn’t wishing; it’s assenting to God’s definition of reality. When you speak in Jesus’ name, reality bends because you’re so identified with Him that your decree carries His authority. This is true and it is reality because God’s sovereign mind thinks so.

Satan trembles at this, which is why he peddles doctrines that sideline the Spirit—calling miracles “for then, not now,” or faith “presumptuous.” But as Vincent Cheung might say, such views are just human pride masquerading as piety. Critics will cry, “But we’re not Jesus!” Exactly the point—we’re better off now, identified with the glorified One. Paul warns in 2 Corinthians 5:16, “From now on, therefore, we regard no one according to the flesh. Even though we once regarded Christ according to the flesh, we regard him thus no longer.” If you evaluate Jesus—or yourself—from a human viewpoint, you’ll cap God’s power at what your carnal senses perceive. You’ll pray timidly, heal sporadically, and witness anemically. But embrace your union: you’re a new creation (2 Corinthians 5:17), co-heir with Christ (Romans 8:17), partaker of the divine nature (2 Peter 1:4). This means ministry isn’t imitation; it’s reality based on how God’s sovereign mind thinks about His own creation. Heal like Jesus did—lay hands, command sickness to flee—because the Spirit’s power flows through you as it did Him. Preach with authority, knowing demons flee at His name through your lips. And yes, expect greater: more salvations, more miracles, across more territory. “The power of the Spirit is so contested by many… When Jesus on His throne becomes central, the baptism of the Spirit for power becomes central” (S.T., page 399).

The same Spirit who empowers also convicts of sin (John 16:8). But what was the sin the Spirit comes to convict the world of? All? No. The Spirit’s ministry is to convict the world of the sin of unbelief—because they do not believe in Jesus. They do not believe He is God’s Son. And because they do not believe He is God’s Son, they do not believe the things He preached and did. What are some things Jesus said? “Jesus answered, ‘Truly I tell you, if anyone says to this mountain, “Go, throw yourself into the sea,” and does not doubt in their heart but believes that what they say will happen, it will be done for them. Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask for in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours’” (Mark 11:23-24). The Spirit comes to convict us of the greatest sin, which started with Satan’s temptation to Eve: “Did God really say?” It is the sin that leads and opens the door to all other sins. It is the defining sin of the faithless; they refuse to believe God and they refuse to believe Jesus Christ.

Unbelief stopped Jesus in Nazareth (Mark 6:5-6), not besetting sins and not Satan. If sickness lingers or prayers seem unanswered, it’s not God’s will changing—it’s our faith needing sharpening, or perhaps a fresh infilling of the Spirit’s power. Pray in the Spirit (Jude 1:20), building yourself up in God’s love. “Sickness is Satan’s victory lap. Jesus did not just patch up boo-boos; He threw haymakers at the devil’s disease factory” (Systematic Theology, page 648). Join the fight; wield the power. Because who doesn’t love a good spiritual smackdown?

Look at how Jesus kicked off His Galilean ministry in Luke 4:14-15—He returned “in the power of the Spirit,” and suddenly news spread like wildfire, with Him teaching in synagogues and getting glorified by everyone. This isn’t some vague spiritual high; it’s raw, divine dynamite exploding into action. Jesus, as a man born under the law, didn’t launch His world-shaking work until after His baptism, when the Spirit descended like a dove and empowered Him to heal, cast out demons, and preach with authority that left jaws on the floor. The Holy Spirit wasn’t just tagging along; He was the engine, turning Jesus’ steps into a kingdom invasion that demolished Satan’s strongholds. And here’s the kicker—Jesus didn’t hog this power. In Acts 1:8, He promises His followers the same deal: “You shall receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you,” turning ordinary folks into unstoppable witnesses from Jerusalem to the ends of the earth. This isn’t optional fluff; it’s the blueprint for Christian life. If we’re co-heirs with Christ, why settle for powerless piety when the Spirit’s ready to supercharge us for miracles and bold proclamation? God’s not stingy—He’s lavishing this power on anyone hungry enough to receive it. Without the Spirit’s baptism, we’re just playing church while the devil throws a party.

The faithless treat this power like an ancient relic gathering dust in some theological museum, when Scripture screams it’s for now. Jesus returned in the Spirit’s power after fasting and facing down Satan, emerging not weakened but weaponized for ministry—teaching that silenced critics and healings that restored the broken. That same Spirit, poured out at Pentecost, isn’t a one-time fireworks show; it’s the ongoing promise for Abraham’s kids through faith (Galatians 3:14). When Acts 1:8 hits, it’s Jesus saying, “Wait for the download—then go conquer.” This power isn’t about flashy showmanship; it’s God’s sovereignty flexing through us, making the impossible routine. Think about it: if Jesus needed the Spirit’s anointing to crush the devil’s works (Acts 10:38), how much more do we? Yet, some peddle a gutless gospel, ignoring this dynamite because it messes with their unbelief. Nah, the Spirit’s power is our birthright—grab it, and watch reality bend as we advance the kingdom, just like our Lord did. Anything less is selling short the God who turns water-walkers into world-changers. Pro tip: Don’t be the guy who brings a squirt gun to a divine water fight.

In closing, our identification with Christ isn’t a doctrine to shelve; it’s dynamite for daily living. Because we’re one with Him, we minister in the same way—Spirit-anointed, faith-fueled—and with the same power, only amplified. Don’t know Him from a human viewpoint anymore; know Him as the enthroned Lord, and yourself as seated there too. Speak to storms, sickness, and souls; watch heaven invade earth. If that sounds radical, then it exposes that your heart is hard. As Scripture says regarding the disciples’ surprise at Jesus’ miracles: they were surprised “because they did not consider the loaves.” Jesus expected them to extrapolate the miracle of multiplication of material substance to be a regular activity. Their inability to see miracles as common and regular indicated their hearts were as hard as stone. Let us cast off any stony parts of our hearts and put on a heart of faith and the Spirit. Miracles, the Spirit, and healing are the gospel. And if critics scoff, well, they’re just cheering for the wrong team in this cosmic showdown. Don’t wash your hands with them, unless you wish to partake of their judgment.

ALL Is Not Lost

I was praying the other day. It is now common for me to be praying in tongues and making faith confessions and praising God.

Over the last few years, God has been healing me, restoring me, and growing my inner man. And now, as I look to the future, my focus is more power, more righteousness, more kingdom expansion, seeing my dreams become reality, and taking all choke points and limits off God and what faith can do.

I am in my 40s, and I was feeling a little bit of hopelessness because of my age. I was wishing I could go back to my teens to teach myself what I have learned and practiced over the last several years. And so, I decided to use life’s greatest life-cheat: praying in tongues. After some time, I received an interpretation, “All is not lost. I have heard your prayers.”

When God says “I have heard your prayers,” as He did to Hezekiah, it means He gave you what you asked. Because God is so loving and so faithful to do what He promised, the same act of God hearing you is the same act as God granting your request.

When I heard the Spirit say this, I was unsure if God meant “all” as in “some things might be lost but not all things,” or “all the dreams you have ever had are still yours for the taking.” I looked up and said, “I don’t know how you meant ‘all,’ but I mean it as all my dreams are still here. Even if you did not mean it that way, I mean it that way and receive it that way, because you said ‘all.’” (Hey, if you’re going to quibble with the Almighty, at least do it with faith and a dash of audacity—its how scriptures teach us to pray.)

God told King David that He gave wives to David (this is mostly about sex), a kingdom, prosperity, and fame, and if David wanted more, God would have given more sex, more kingdoms, more prosperity, and more fame to David.

This teaches us that we cannot ask too much. The risk in praying is asking too little and shooting too low. If you aim for the Andromeda Galaxy but end up hitting Orion’s belt, then great, you accomplished some good things. But if you aim for the ground, then that is all you will hit—frankly, why settle for dirt when the stars are up for grabs?

The Gentile woman hijacked Jesus’ words, which meant one thing, to mean something else. Jesus approved and called her faith great. In fact, Jesus was arguing for God’s will to be done, and by the end of the exchange, Jesus confesses out loud, “Woman, your will be done.”

Jesus had already promised to go and heal the centurion’s servant, but the centurion asked for an upgrade to a miracle already in motion (just say the word). Jesus approved of this man asking for more, and he got the upgrade.

Last note: Pray in tongues and ask for interpretation. Even if you don’t have a spiritual gift for interpretation, by asking in faith, you will find you will receive interpretations. Don’t sleep on this. It will help you.

I am here to remind you: All is not lost.

Do not limit God. Do not shoot too low. Do not ask for only small things. Pray for big things; pray for upgrades to miracles you are already getting. Pray for more. And when you think you have asked for too much, ask for more.

And when God hears you, you know God has given.

The Lie that You Only Need to be Still

In my teaching “The Staff of God,” I highlighted the passage where God was displeased with Moses’ statement, despite it sounding like a bold “word of faith confession.” The issue wasn’t the confession itself but what it confessed. God responded with irritation, “Why are you crying (i.e., whining) to Me? Take the Staff and divide the waters.”

Moses’ confession was misleading. God was indeed fighting for the Israelites and would continue to do so, but it was incorrect to say, “they only need to be still.” God didn’t command Himself to divide the waters; He commanded Moses to do it. If Moses had sat there “waiting for the will of God,” the Red Sea would not have parted, because it wasn’t God’s job to divide the sea; it was Moses’ job.

Moses was hedging, trying to buy time with a good faith confession, but God had already acted. He had given Moses the Staff of God. Likewise, God has already acted for us. He sent His only Son, who was brutalized, raised from the dead, and seated at His right hand. Jesus took on God’s wrath for our sins, gave us His righteousness, bore the stripes that healed us, took our curses, and gave us the blessing of Abraham. God has made us a royal priesthood, an irrevocable calling, and engraved Jesus’ name and authority on our tongues. What we have is far greater than the Staff of God or Zeus’ lightning bolt. We have the Name of Jesus and the baptism of power in the Spirit.

Moses thought he could chill with a faith-filled soundbite, but God was like, “Bro, grab the Staff and make waves—literally.” Spoiler: Sitting still doesn’t part seas, but swinging God’s power does.

Unlike the faithless of our day, Moses was a friend of God, yet God still grew irritated when Moses lingered, waiting for God to move. Moses held God’s power in his hands. It was Moses’ move, not God’s. It wasn’t time to be still and watch God; it was time to act and command the waters to stand.

So it is with us. The waters are divided by us, not God. When Moses stopped hedging and acted with the Staff of God, the waters parted. Healing will happen when we stop hedging, stop waiting for the so-called will of God, and command it in the name of Jesus. If you wait for God to move, you’ll die waiting. God has already moved.

The faithless amplify Moses’ misleading confession, pumping it full of unbelief. They wait for the will of God, and they wait, and they wait. Nothing happens, for their worldview has no God and no power in it. However, God has already willed our sicknesses onto His Son, stripe after stripe. He has already addressed our sickness problem. There’s nothing more for Him to do for us to be healed. Do you suppose your begging for healing requires Jesus to be re-crucified? Your healing is already accomplished. In God’s thoughts He transferred your sickness to Jesus, who carried it away. In God’s mind, He thinks we are healed by Jesus’ stripes. Who am I to disagree with God’s own thoughts?

The lie is waiting for God to move when He has already moved. Through Jesus’ finished atonement, He placed the Staff of God on our tongues. His command is that we move next. Like a chess game, God has made His move. Now it’s our turn.

The faithless camp out, waiting for God’s will like it’s a cosmic Amazon delivery. Newsflash: God has already shipped the healing, signed, sealed, and delivered on Jesus’ back. It’s already sitting on your living room floor. Open the package. Doing nothing and looking at the box, will not open it.

God’s made His checkmate move with Jesus’ atonement. Now He is sipping divine coffee, waiting for you to slide the bishop and part the Red Sea. Don’t leave Him hanging.

The miracle happens, not when God moves, but when we move, and divide the waters in Jesus’ name. Because God has already moved, the healing happens, not because God will move, but because we will move in faith.

The disciples finally got this. And so, Peter said “what I have I, I give, in Jesus Name, walk.” It wasn’t what God had. It wasn’t what God gave. It was what Peter had, and what Peter gave. He had the Name and power of Jesus, to throw around as Peter wanted. Peter had this because Jesus was sitting at the right hand of the Power. And despite many Christians hating this, Jesus is still at the right hand of the Power. We have the same Name and the same power.

(witty summaries provided by Grok 2025 )