Tag Archives: take

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

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

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

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

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

*2 God Took My Son!

Uh..no, He didn’t.

So when someone says about a Christian who left this earth too soon (before that long, satisfying life we’re promised, Psalm 91, Abraham’s gospel.), “God took my child” or “God took my spouse”… they’re missing the mark. If that person was truly in Christ, God “received” them with open arms, sure, but He didn’t “take” them. The real culprit who did the taking was Satan, using the curse and unbelief as his sneaky weapons of choice.

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

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

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

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

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

*3 Why Are You Afraid?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The stars never looked so good, nor so close.

* 5 Your Fame is the Gospel’s Priority

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*6 Head Held High

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

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

And here’s the fun part (because heaven throws better parties than any pig-pen after-party ever could): the Father’s not keeping score. He’s not waiting for you to “earn” the fatted calf. He’s already running toward you with arms wide, robe flapping, ring ready. 1 Corinthians 2:12 spells it out—“We have received… the Spirit who is from God, so that we may understand what God has freely given us.” Freely. No strings. No performance review. Just pure, ridiculous generosity.

So stop tip-toeing around like you owe the King rent. Maturity looks like you receiving the ring, the robe, the sandals—and then throwing your head back and laughing with the joy that only sons know. You belong at this table. Act like it. Grab the blessings. March in. The Father’s already popping the champagne.

*7 Theological Gaslighting

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*9 Belly Crawlers

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

* 10 Mystery Box

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This is the Jesus way.

*11 It’s Not Hard to Believe

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

It is not hard to believe.

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

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

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

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

*12 A Little Homemade Sacrifice

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So do you fear God at all?

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

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

He’s alive. The work is done.

The door is wide open.

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

No more homemade sacrifices.

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

*13 Not Your Eyeballs

The Resurrection: Proved by Scripture, Not Your Eyeballs

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

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

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

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

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

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

*14 Proof Your Insides Are Clean

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*15 Storm The Throne Room

Hebrews is all about Contract Theology.

How does it instruct us to apply Contract theology?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*16 Be Patient Cop-out

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*17 But Here’s The Gut-punch

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*18 Rebuke Like The Book Says

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*19 Existence Exists

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*20 Shadow It & Be Done With It.

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

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

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

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

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

*21 Carnal Cheeseburgers

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Carnal appetites in marriage? Carnal appetites with food?

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

That’s biblical.

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

*22 Set Apart For God

Exodus 16:22-30.

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

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

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

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

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

God Took My Son!

Uh..no, He didn’t

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The God Who Gives and Takes Away

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That’s the gospel rhythm—dance to it.