I believed I was the definition of “sober and vigilant”— in reality, I was “dry” and “hyper-vigilant.”

I was passionate, zealous, and ruthless. Loyalty and discretion were not values I held. I was loyal only to the truth, or at least to my perception of it. My reticular activating system was primed and ready to identify any threat, lie, or deception within a 20-mile radius. My unbridled prophetic gifting was fueled by injustice, rage, and a bitterness stemming from a lack of love and redemption. In short, I was immature. I gravitated toward every victim and every person I deemed voiceless and in need of intervention. I did so because I was subconsciously becoming the rescuer and savior, creating the intervention I desperately needed in another iteration of my life. In short, I had a Savior complex. That, coupled with a bit of childhood trauma, led me into a place where I had covenanted with myself to “never let those things happen again!” Man, those inner vows will test you on the scales of life—and if I’m being honest, I have to tell you… you’ll be found wanting.

Scanning the Horizon

Because I lacked the ability to look internally, I focused all of my time, effort, and energy on leveraging my gift to protect myself and others. At least that was my intention. Unfortunately, the outcome was rarely that.

The reason? In the absence of conflict you lose your purpose. Unfortunately, many people find themselves in this predicament. It’s an identity complex. And the truth is, when we begin to explore our identity, things become complex. When I refuse to look inward, I will constantly be scanning the horizon, standing on my wall to watch for threats coming my direction—real or perceived.

Habakkuk 2:1

“I will stand my watch

And set myself on the rampart,

And watch to see what He will say to me,

And what I will answer when I am corrected.”

The only problem is that instead of conversing with the One who made me concerning the things I see, I eliminate that step from the process and judge for myself what is safe or dangerous. And that, my friends, is a losing combination:

a gift without repentance, ability without humility, and sight without perspective.

The Internal Beginning

The truth is, authentic relationship with Father, Son, and Holy Spirit really begins internally. It’s not that the external is unaffected, but it starts with a deep introspective awareness that something greater than me is at work. It is impossible to see the world as it is—in reality, we are often projecting our own internal fears, anxieties, and trauma. As a result, we’re initiating a perpetual cycle of self-fulfilling, fear-based prophecy. And that is a nasty habit to break.

I often use this phrase with my coaching clients and those I disciple or mentor: “An unchecked strength is oftentimes a double weakness.” Meaning: people are often keenly aware of their weaknesses and rarely fail egregiously there. It is often in our strongest qualities and characteristics that we make the profound error of operating in assumption or presumption. The nature of this is that it’s rarely a mild overstep. Because of the blind confidence associated with assumption and presumption, we boldly rush the wrong direction, resulting too many times in tremendous destruction. The irony is that this is not a result of external realities, but rather the internal one we failed to discern.

Many people prophesy a storm and cry when it rains. Others propagate, announce, and proclaim their fear of rejection, abandonment, or failure—and as a result, they have sealed their own fate. They invite all manner of warfare, opposition, and agreement to something that, if we were really honest, may not even be happening externally until we release our internal perception of ourselves. Identity will tell the truth about you. What you believe about yourself is the most important thing that you think.

Fighting the Breath of God

You see, I was fighting the wind, not knowing that it was the very breath of God breathing on me, in me, and through me to transform my life from every side. When He would breathe on me, it would trigger, agitate, or irritate the subconscious bias that had carried me nearly all of my life—unknowingly. When He began to breathe in me, it started to force things to the surface that I had refused to let go of for many years, almost as if it was a divine purge or deliverance happening. And as I allowed this process to take root and bear fruit, I then recognized that His breath flowing through me was the intent all along. It was as if my life was somehow a trumpet, instrument, or vessel intended to house the very Spirit of God in such a way that my life carried a message that actually could not be fulfilled or released absent from His active, intentional intervention in my life.

The Enemy Within

What an unfortunate day it is when we realize and come to grips with the fact that the enemy we’ve been chasing all along—or searching the horizon for, or bracing for all of our life—has been silently occupying the most intimate places of our life.

Until this point I had viewed agreement, alignment, and people who would encourage me in this as affirmation or confirmation that God was on my life. When in reality, it was mostly people who were broken, bound, and blind in the same ways. Misery loves company. Birds of a feather flock together, and agreement does not equal the seal of approval from heaven. Actually, many times it is a sign that heaven is probably not in alignment with your ideology. You can tell this is problematic when the people you mentor, disciple, or spend the most time with deeply frustrate you on an intensely personal level. You have to ask yourself the hard question: What is it in me that is attracting this degree of dysfunction? Is it the Holy Spirit empowering me to release people from captivity and into freedom? Or could it be that it is a familiar spirit of collective compromise finding safety in my proximity? For me, it was the latter.

Anything in your life that grows, multiplies, or increases beyond the grace and ability to steward it effectively is something that was not birthed in the Spirit. Unfortunately, many people live their whole lives in that tension, thinking somehow that experience is their cross to bear, reasonable service, or just what ministry is. The truth is that’s what ministry looks like when you try to function in brokenness and mixture. You fight yourself. It’s not that warfare isn’t real, or that demonic interference and opposition isn’t a thing. It just means that the devil doesn’t have to do any of that because you are in your own way. No one and nothing has more power in the story of your life than you and what you choose to yield to—or even what you’re blind to.

Weapons and the Warrior

In reality, the weapons that we have been given from the Lord are not carnal, but they are mighty in God for the tearing down of strongholds, which are:

1. High thoughts

2. Vain imaginations

In both categories they are things that have exalted themselves above the knowledge of God. (Translation: 1—they are thoughts about God that are untrue, unfounded, and misapplied; 2—they are thoughts about ourselves that are untrue, unfounded, and not a submission to the will of God over our lives.)

2 Corinthians 10:4-5

“For the weapons of our warfare are not carnal but mighty in God for pulling down strongholds, casting down arguments and every high thing that exalts itself against the knowledge of God, bringing every thought into captivity to the obedience of Christ.”

It is imperative that we separate the weapons from the warfare and recognize that the warrior—the soldier, the person—is an integral part in that. If you give an overweight, disabled, impaired person the greatest weapon on the planet in the battle of their life, it’s not enough to protect them. If you give the greatest athlete, most competent warrior, most agile individual a position on the battlefield but don’t give him the right weapon, he will also lose. There are multiple factors that play into the scenario. Stewardship is one of them, obedience another, and maturity will determine your ability to interface with the aforementioned.

Soldiers Make Poor Sons

You see, for me I was beginning to realize that sometimes soldiers make very poor sons. The worldview, reward system, and standard operating procedure is all off. It’s not based on relationship and family… it’s more about survival and allegiance. And unfortunately, your comfort level in many environments tells the truth about your internal environment.

The thing that triggers you is not the problem—it’s what you believe about the thing that triggers you. The person who causes you to spiral quickly is not the problem. It’s your perception of the person who causes you to spiral so quickly. When you begin to ask the powerful questions—such as, “What power do I believe this person, place, or thing has over me? What is it about them or it that makes me feel invisible, voiceless, or a victim to a world that they occupy?”—when you get to the bottom of things, you will find that you were at the core, center, or the axis on which the worldview spins.

It is then, and only then, when we take responsibility for our autonomy and begin to finally exercise authority by repenting—i.e., changing the way we think about things, followed by a change of posture and procedure—that we can be in a position to invite the Godhead into the intercourse and/or holy of holies in our soul. Because, after all, as a man or a woman thinks in their heart, so are they. This is biblical truth with powerful applications and manifestations.

Proverbs 23:7

“For as he thinks in his heart, so is he.”

When Emotion Becomes Identity

For some of you, the issue is that you’ve never thought past the emotion. You never dug deeper than the visceral reaction and trauma response to the subconscious soul-words that have played you so long that you think they’re an integral part of your identity.

Beloved, when you are here, you are reacting and responding at best. But the battle you’re fighting is not the Lord’s—it is for control, to protect, and to preserve a narrative that you have elevated to idolatry in your life to such a degree you’ve never talked to the Lord about it.

In several decades of ministry I’ve never met someone deeply deceived who wasn’t confidently convicted that they were in the right. When confronted about their convictions, they would retaliate with a powerfully targeted defense, a strong story and narrative systematically crafted to reinforce their actions, to justify their behavior, and to absolve them of any guilt for the way in which they are treating those around them. The foundational flaw in the bedrock of this ideology is merely this: it is not built upon the rock. It’s built upon shifting sand, and it sacrifices others for the sake of personal protection. It attaches the banner of Christ to our stories instead of us renouncing our stories and running into the name of the Lord, which is a strong tower where the righteous find refuge.

Proverbs 18:10

“The name of the Lord is a strong tower;

The righteous run to it and are safe.”

The word authority stems from the word *author*—painting a picture that we have the pen in our hand as we write the story. But as it pertains to faith in God, transformation, and regeneration through Christ by way of the Holy Spirit, the only authority to be had is that which is given through the Son of God. Translation: the only authority to be exercised in and through us is that which comes from the gospel itself, which is impossibly intertwined and entangled with repentance, forgiveness, transformation, and a bending of the knee and a breaking of our will while submitting to His.

Passion Is Not Currency

You see, many people are under the false assumption that passion somehow grants you currency in the kingdom. The opposite is true.

Compassion is currency, contrition is currency, and consecration will give you access to things that skill, excellence, and zeal simply won’t.

I guess if I had a point it would be this: Make sure you don’t spend your life fighting the wind. Make sure that you don’t spend all of your time, effort, and energy fighting battles that the Lord did not send you into. Your life is valuable, holy, and catalytic when it is submitted to the will of the Lord. Test the spirits… but first test yours. Judge the prophecies, but first be honest in your evaluation of yourself. Contend for accountability, but first make sure that your mind, will, and emotions are fully yielded to the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. They alone are empowered to win the battle. He’s authorized you to fight.

Note from the author:

I write this from a place of sobriety, humility, and intentionality. As I observe the events of my own life over the last 20 years of ministry, I have recognized patterns, propensities, and proclivities deep within my own soul and psyche that have subconsciously flavored my experience with the world around me. While I recognize that the gifts and calling of God are irrevocable, I also wrestle with the fact that the spirit of the prophet is subject to the prophet—meaning I will be held accountable and responsible for the way in which I stewarded the gift on my life.

Because of this I walk in fear and trembling most days, because I realize the massive ignorance, arrogance, and blindness that I walked in for the early part of my development with the Lord. My challenge, charge, or plea for those who read this is to an honest evaluation of the electives and endeavors you find yourself pursuing passionately—and to evaluate whether or not they have been initiated by the Lord or by the unbridled, broken parts of yourself.

Pouring Out for Over Twenty Years

I’ve spent well over 20 years of my life pouring into people, ministries, and organizations focused on advancing the gospel, mending broken hearts, and healing broken people. It’s been amazing-countless testimonies and untold life-altering moments as we’ve laid our lives down over and over again. I’ve been very accessible, generous with my time (my wife would argue gratuitous), and sacrificially present for hundreds and thousands of people over the years. In that rhythm of life, I’ve also learned that I’m not a really great judge of people’s motives, intents, and character. This has produced a great deal of pain associated with the vulnerability, transparency, and intimacy offered to people along our path. The depth of rejection, the weight of the wounds, and the whiplash from people we loved the most rejecting us seemingly overnight-and speaking ill of us to anyone who would listen-is not insignificant. Yet here we are, still saying yes to the call, but different.

Assumption, Presumption, and Hard Lessons

I used to operate in a great deal of ignorance. There were just a lot of things I didn’t know. Because of this, I would function in many situations out of assumption or presumption, which is quite literally the lowest form of knowledge. It’s deeply subjective, almost never accurate, and always costly.

If you want to know how people value you, give them your time. It never fails: what they believe about you, your worth, and the value assessment they place on you will come out.

In the early days of ministry, I never dreamed that people were not as serious about their own healing and this journey as I was. Maybe I was bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, and naïve to the ways of the world. Whatever reason was resting beneath the surface, it didn’t matter because I would show up with the same tenacity, audacity, and enthusiasm to help anyone really struggling with anything overcome the obstacles and move closer toward their purpose in God. I quickly realized that you can’t want it more than they want it. Shortly thereafter, I realized that just because someone tells you something doesn’t mean that it’s true. It doesn’t mean that they’re being honest, and many people are unfortunately extremely committed to their own dysfunction. The moment you become a threat to the self-protection mechanisms that have kept them safe in their own eyes, you’ll be the first person they come after when accountability comes knocking. Rest assured, they’ve not gotten into this position by making good decisions. And no matter how ambitious, holy, or enthusiastic you may be, you cannot make a person change their patterns. They must choose that path for themselves.

Patterns, personalities, and propensities are actually highly reliable. They’re consistent-dangerously consistent. Unfortunately for me, over the years I can’t unsee what I’ve seen, I can’t un-know what I know, and I know a few things because I’ve experienced a few things. I’m not pulling from theory or fantasy. I’m weighing facts and field experience against my discernment, trauma, and my own bias. And let me tell you, it’s never dull. One thing I am learning is this:

Availability and Accessibility Are Not the Same

Available and accessible are not the same thing. Just because I have availability does not mean you have accessibility. And if there’s anything I’ve learned in the last five years, it is the spiritual, emotional, and relational significance of guarding the gates of my life. Access is a privilege attained through honor, integrity, and consistency. It is not cheap, and it is definitely not common. While the patterns, personalities, and propensities haven’t changed much over the years, my relationship to myself has changed quite drastically. And what I have learned as I’ve broken generational propensities of rejection, performance, and an unhealthy relationship to the fear of men and the opinions they hold is this: I don’t owe anyone anything-except to love them. If I’m authentically walking in love, then I’ll quote one of my favorite pop-culture lines from the 1000-lb Sisters at the moment:

“I pay my bills, my bills is paid!”

Translation: I have a clean conscience, a pure spirit, and I actually know who I am, which means we’re not performing, and the unbearable weight of perfection is no longer something that I feel the need to oblige.

Bad Habits from Church and Nonprofit Culture

Working for churches, ministries, and the nonprofit sector taught me some really bad habits. Number one: the majority of them are systematically designed to keep you away from things like having boundaries, saying things like “no,” and being able to have a personal life. You can say what you want to negate that, but I’ve been in this world too long. It’s just true. Give everything away-your whole life-and even when you’ve done that and exhausted all other resources, your dying breath will do. Don’t get me wrong: I’m happy to lay my life down for Jesus. I think the record will show that. But what I’m not willing to do is lay my life down, sacrifice my family, or their well-being for a piece of someone supposedly representing Him who doesn’t act like Him. It’s confusing, I know. Remember when I said that just because someone tells you something doesn’t mean it’s true in paragraph four - yeah, that part. The thing about repentance is that once you recognize that you believed a lie, you have to renounce it. You don’t just change your mind; you change your ways. There’s an action to follow the intention. Otherwise, it’s all frivolous and imaginary.

The second thing I learned was that no one’s going to check in or even ask you how you’re doing. You’re going to have to become a really good judge of yourself and how you’re actually doing. To be fair, we should be self-governing. While we are committed to humility, service, and submitting one to another in love, I can only love my neighbor well if I know how to love myself well. And that’s half of the Great Commandment. I can’t love the Lord my God with all my heart, soul, mind, and strength otherwise. In other words, your self-concept and belief architecture concerning your identity are literally going to affect and determine how you carry out the course of your days. And if availability equals access, you will prostitute your purpose all the days of your life. But the Lord has not asked us to do that. He’s asked us to intentionally steward the gift, call, and anointing that we each carry in such a way that it can bring about multiplication and increase. If I don’t have an honest evaluation of myself, I will never know what soil I need to plant my seeds in. I will never know what people I need to spend my time with, and I definitely won’t know what opportunities are worthy of the investment of my life.

Why This Matters

Why is this important, and what does it have to do with anything? Great question. It’s actually of utmost importance. Virtually all of my frustration in seasons past has been tied to feeling like I was at the mercy of people, places, and things. I never felt like I had any autonomy or authority to say no, or even that my yeses were predetermined by other people. As the Lord has done a deep work of inner healing and deliverance-and honestly a revelation of identity that looks a lot different than I ever dreamed-it has changed me on a foundational and fundamental level. I no longer feel the need to volunteer my whole life as tribute to everyone and everything. I’ve been bought with a price, and my body is not my own; it belongs to the Lord. And because of that, He actually gets to determine the course of my steps and the number of my days. I’m not looking to find value or validation in the eyes of men when the eyes of the Lord are firmly fixed on my days.

Moving Differently Because I Am Different

I am moving different because I am different. I’ve set my price because I know the price that was paid to set me free. And I also know the great value placed on me by my Father. I remember circa 2017 getting thoroughly rebuked by a spiritual mother of mine. Her name is Barbara.

She said, “Justin, you will never again go where there is no honor! For too long you’ve been prostituted and pimped by ministries and people posing as parents, trafficking you for personal gain. And I want you to see what the patterns look like.”

At the time I didn’t feel like that was true, but as I listened to the wisdom and the love from an authentic mother, my eyes were opened to see what I was previously blind to. And my heart was actually grieved as I felt the Father weeping over the injustice in different seasons of my life.

In seasons past, I was fighting to prove my worth. Currently, I’m raising the bar, elevating the stakes, and setting the price of admission so high that no one with access what is treated as common or familiar. It’s not pride; it’s wisdom. It’s not arrogance; it’s anointed-and because of this, it’s not for everyone. And that’s really okay. I can’t help everyone, nor do I want to. I also don’t have to do anything. I don’t live for obligation anymore. I live from overflow. And I can tell almost instantly when someone is trying to make a withdrawal from an account they’ve made no investment into. In the natural, we would call that an overdraft, and there would be extensive fees connected to it for the inconvenience and overreach. If left unchecked, it would result in legal action because it would be robbery. I wonder how much I gave away in an unholy fashion over the years in an attempt to win people over who were merely consumers-all the while the Lord was trying to show me who my community was. Friends don’t ask for discounts; they pay full price, order the premium package, and tip liberally. It’s funny how business actually helped me understand the kingdom more than ministry ever did. There are levels of dishonor, poverty, and entitlement that used to seem normal to me that induce nausea in this present season. I don’t state this out of arrogance or pride-I simply don’t see it in the kingdom, and I feel zero desire to protect it, defend it, or even waste my time in places where it happens to be. I aim to confront it, destroy it, and make an example out of it.

Stewardship, Identity, and Abundance

This is an article about stewardship, identity, and abundance. This is an article about deliverance, healing, and identity. This is an article that few will read, some will wrestle with, and several will be angered-and that is good. It’s good to work out salvation with fear and trembling. It’s healthy to receive confrontational advances against our worldviews, and it is holy to wrestle with our worldview and weigh it against His.

It is my prayer that as you read this, you would soberly and intentionally weigh the fruit of your life to see whether or not you have anything to throw at the feet of Jesus. Are you stewarding your time, resources, and calling with great intentionality in the fear of the Lord? Or are you casting pearls before swine, wasting the costly oil from your life on people that have no value for it? Regardless of the answer, you will stand before the Lord one day and answer Him: What did you do with what He gave you? I pray that the response you receive upon arrival is “Well done, good and faithful servant”-not “Why did you waste all that I gave you?”

Traveling again today… 2,345 miles by car (at least that’s what Apple Maps told me). Much faster to fly, though. What’s another plane, flight, or ticket? 🤷🏻‍♂️ Land at noon—the conference starts at 6-ish. Add the time difference and it’s a loooong day. I was up before my alarm at 4:30, got dressed, closed my suitcase, kissed my wife, and opened my bedroom door…

Hope was waiting for me at 4:43 a.m.—a huge hug. “Daddy, I don’t want you to leave.” Time stands still. My heart is somehow full and sinking at the same time. How many fathers get to say that their presence is felt as much as their absence? The grace and mercy of the Lord is life. I love my family. I also almost lost them several years ago (but that’s a story that’s already been told—this is a different chapter). Thank you, Jesus!

Selah—

Open the door, cross the threshold.

As I opened the door and crossed the threshold, Samuel was waiting for me by the curb.

That hits different at 4:50 a.m. on a Monday morning airport run. One last big hug with Hope at the threshold—time is a gift; invest it wisely.

Walk to the van, open the door, cross another threshold—we head to the airport. Nostalgia, familiarity, muscle memory. (Wallet, phone, keys, passport, itinerary…) Hundreds of early-morning airport runs. Conversations with friends, family, pastors, Uber drivers flood my consciousness. Eyes still wet as my father’s heart aches for the daughter at the door while destiny is calling on the other side of the country. Many fantasize about the call; few know the cost. I can’t be present where I am not present. I pray silently under my breath: I give my family back to You. You are good, faithful, and true. Help me to be like You. Present.

Presence in Motion

Presence in motion requires intentionality and discipline. Deep conversations: What is God doing? What am I noticing? How am I growing? The Spirit dances. Revelation bubbles up. Emotions are palpable. God is near. I see flashes of a younger me—potential, promise, tension, and hunger. I am confident… not in myself, circumstances, or percentages. I am confident in the goodness of the Father toward His children and His nearness in adversity. I listen, I talk, I feel. I heal a little more with each of these conversations.

At 5:30 we part at Departures. I say goodbye and throw up a prayer for my brother: “Lord, look on his sacrifice, bless the seed of his time, and multiply it one hundredfold.” Find the door, cross another threshold—United, PreCheck, TSA, coffee. Pray in the Spirit. Walk. A prophetic word for the gate-check attendant—big smile. Step through the door, cross another threshold, find your seat.

Familiar Rhythm—New Season

There’s a familiarity, a muscle memory, a reflex that engages in some spaces and places that is honestly refreshing. At the same time, there is a painful stretching and growing accompanied by substantial obstacles, equations, and formidable challenges. There’s a phrase I use with great regularity and consistency:

Translation: simple discipline over time will produce effective results under pressure.

This is the opposite of a trauma response—fight, flight, freeze, or fawn. It is an encoding through discipline that will direct your steps through the fog of uncertainty. The beauty of this is that it will serve us not only in seasons of crisis but also in blessing and abundance. In reality, the real test is blessing—not scarcity; abundance, not lack. So often we brace for the worst, constantly preparing for dire circumstances that will strip us of the necessities needed for survival—so much so that abundance and blessings actually end up breaking the backs of those who prepared for lack.

I’ve ministered around the world for over 20 years now (12 nations and counting), laying hands on tens of thousands—miracles, signs, wonders, healing, and deliverance. Powerful prophetic ministry that has literally saved lives, shaped movements, and directed decisions at the highest levels of global governments. From the literal White House to actual crack houses. Wherever the call compels.

Abundance, Provision, and Source

I did most of that living below the poverty line—miraculous provision required for basic necessities. I distinctly remember a season when we would regularly go through the basement to return unopened items to Walmart in exchange for toilet paper, milk, diapers, etc. A wild time. We learned faith, resolve, grit, and most importantly how to take our needs before the Lord and not everyone in our radius who could logistically meet a need. I wouldn’t trade any of it.

I might note that the whole time this was our situation, people were jealous, envious, plotted, planned, watched, and waited. I wish it weren’t true, but it is. You haven’t experienced real favor from God until people hate you for walking in something you didn’t ask for and never even wanted. At the time I paid little to no attention to it… but patterns persist, and they don’t lie.

This speaks more of them than of you. I once heard Larry Randolph say something that has always stuck with me:

“People measure; God weighs.”

Success and visibility have granted me an uncommon perspective. I am analytical by nature, hardwired to notice patterns, cycles, and revolutions—but unlike an architect who builds them, I am geared more like a specialist who refines them. Much like any specialist, you must spend time in the systems to understand them. Most people care about you to the degree that you are useful to them. This is just the way life is—but it’s not the way the Kingdom is. People are constantly measuring… trying to keep up with whatever they determine is successful. We all do it. I used to get more upset about it than I do now—primarily because I used to take it personally, when in reality I should allow the data to define the relationship, avoiding unnecessary disappointments.

Rather than measuring people (or ourselves, for that matter), what if we took inventory of weight—authority, experience, acumen…

The best way to gauge a person is to ask the Lord. Man looks at the outward appearance, but God looks at the heart—and actually weighs true motives. You may be asking, “Justin, what does that have to do with Connections, Layovers, and Life in Motion?”

The answer

I have spent a lot of time in airports and on planes (from 2016–2020 the consistent average was 90 planes per year… that’s right—9️⃣0️⃣‼️). Connections, layovers, and life in motion via trains, buses, subways, taxis, and Ubers were a constant. People like to look important in airports. As somewhat of a human behavioral specialist, I like to observe: the way people dress, their mannerisms, anxiety, values, accents, verbiage. It is my opinion that 95% of humanity is following 5%—clothing, tech, style, language, and all things culture. If you wanted to pull on the thread of this, I believe you would find deep insecurity rooted in comparison. There is no shortage of studies on the effect of crowds following a leader, whether or not that person is worthy of being followed.

Life in motion requires us to have a healthy relationship to departures and arrivals. You were not meant to live in transition, abide in thresholds, or hide in hallways. They are a necessary passage away from the past and into the present—they require presence… and that is deeply personal.

Life in motion will always demand thresholds—doors to walk through, goodbyes to speak, seats to find on the other side of the country. But the point was never the motion itself. The point is presence. Presence with the One who never leaves. Presence with the people He’s entrusted to us. Presence that refuses to live in the hallway.

So I keep crossing thresholds. I keep giving my family back to Him. I keep showing up—whether it’s 4:43 a.m. with a daughter’s arms around my neck or somewhere far from home with a prophetic word on my tongue. Because the call is real, the cost is real, and the grace is more than enough.

I’m not trying to arrive. I’m learning to be present while I’m still in motion.

Thank You, Jesus.

“Though you might have ten thousand instructors in Christ, yet you do not have many fathers...”
“For in Christ Jesus I have begotten you through the gospel.”
1 Corinthians 4:15 (NKJV)

One of the greatest crises facing the Church today isn’t simply a leadership problem.

It’s a family problem.

The deficit of true fathers has become so profound that we’ve started redefining relationships to compensate for what we’ve lost. Employees are called sons. Contractors are called family. Volunteers are told they “belong” until the budget changes, the vision shifts, or they become inconvenient.

Real fathers are not defined by what they say.

They are revealed by what they do.

If you cease to be treated like a son or daughter the moment you enter crisis, disagreement, or weakness, then you were never truly being fathered. You were being managed.

A true father doesn’t disappear when you become expensive.

He leans in.

“My little children, for whom I labor in birth again until Christ is formed in you...”
Galatians 4:19 (NKJV)

When the Family Becomes a Corporation

“...from whom the whole family in heaven and earth is named.”
Ephesians 3:14-15 (NKJV)

Many expressions of Christian community have quietly drifted from household to headquarters.

Without realizing it, we’ve built administrative hierarchies whose highest priority is protecting the brand. Systems become sacred. Image becomes untouchable. Success becomes measurable primarily through growth, influence, and expansion.

By the time they realize they’ve become part of a corporation instead of a family, they’ve often compromised their conscience trying to fit into a culture they couldn’t quite explain.

Healthy organization is necessary.

Corporate culture inside the Kingdom is not.

The Church was never meant to function like a publicly traded company.

She was meant to look like a household.

“...the house of God, which is the church of the living God, the pillar and ground of the truth.”
1 Timothy 3:15 (NKJV)

Loyalty That Follows Opportunity

“A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for adversity.”
Proverbs 17:17 (NKJV)

One of the unintended consequences of fatherlessness is transactional loyalty.

If opportunity controls your loyalty, something deeper is happening than career advancement.

Character is being formed by ambition instead of covenant.

As long as there’s promotion...
access...
platform...
recognition...

everything feels wonderful.

But the relationship was never built on love.

It was built on usefulness.

Eventually the opportunities slow down.

The attention shifts.

Someone newer arrives.

Then the relationship quietly evaporates.

What looked like family was simply mutual benefit wearing Kingdom language.

“Most men will proclaim each his own goodness, but who can find a faithful man?”
Proverbs 20:6 (NKJV)

The Quiet Human Trafficking of the Church

“Shepherd the flock of God which is among you... not for dishonest gain, but eagerly; nor as being lords over those entrusted to you, but being examples to the flock.”
1 Peter 5:2-3 (NKJV)

The house of God was never intended to become a place where people become products.

When influence becomes currency, relationships become transactions.

People are leveraged.

Networks are monetized.

Connections become commodities.

People are celebrated while they’re useful...

then quietly replaced once they’ve served their purpose.

No one says it out loud.

We simply learn the rules.

Produce.

Perform.

Protect the image.

Stay valuable.

This isn’t the Kingdom.

It’s spiritual consumerism baptized in ministry vocabulary.

Jesus warned His disciples against this very model.

“You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them... Yet it shall not be so among you; but whoever desires to become great among you, let him be your servant.”
Matthew 20:25-27 (NKJV)

Consumers Don’t Build Families

“For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give His life a ransom for many.”
Mark 10:45 (NKJV)

A consumer asks,

“What can I receive?”

A son asks,

“How can I serve?”

But this cuts both directions.

Leaders must stop treating people like consumers.

People must stop behaving like consumers.

The tragedy is that we’ve often created environments where both happen simultaneously.

Attendance replaces affection.

Performance replaces presence.

Volunteers replace family.

Employees replace heirs.

Eventually people begin believing their value expires the moment their productivity does.

But love that expires with performance was never covenant.

It was a contract.

“By this all will know that you are My disciples, if you have love for one another.”
John 13:35 (NKJV)

The Family Was Never for Sale

“...you received the Spirit of adoption by whom we cry out, ‘Abba, Father.’ The Spirit Himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs...”
Romans 8:15-17 (NKJV)

The Kingdom never intended the family of God to operate on production metrics.

Heaven doesn’t measure sons and daughters by output.

Inheritance is not earned.

It is received.

Belonging is not negotiated.

It is given.

That doesn’t eliminate responsibility.

It transforms the reason we carry it.

We don’t serve to become family.

We serve because we already are.

Becoming the Church

“And let us consider one another in order to stir up love and good works, not forsaking the assembling of ourselves together...”
Hebrews 10:24-25 (NKJV)

The answer is not abandoning the Church.

The answer is becoming the Church.

A Church where fathers don’t compete with their sons.

Where leaders don’t consume the people they’re called to protect.

Where correction never cancels belonging.

Where disagreement doesn’t terminate relationship.

Where sons and daughters don’t perform for acceptance.

Where people aren’t loved because they’re useful.

They’re loved because they’re family.

This isn’t sentimental.

It’s profoundly biblical.

The Kingdom has always advanced through healthy households long before it ever built impressive platforms.

“Behold, how good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity!”
Psalm 133:1 (NKJV)

Perhaps our generation doesn’t need more celebrities.

Perhaps we need more fathers.

Perhaps we don’t need bigger ministries.

Perhaps we need healthier families.

Because the Kingdom of God isn’t ultimately built upon hierarchy.

It’s built upon healthy family.

“Now therefore, you are no longer strangers and foreigners, but fellow citizens with the saints and members of the household of God.”
Ephesians 2:19 (NKJV)

Author’s Note

I write these words as a father, a son, a brother, and a minister of the Gospel.

For more than twenty-five years, I have devoted my life to serving Christ through ministry, missions, the local church, and the global expression of the ekklesia. I have faithfully served men and women of God. I’ve laid down my own vision to build someone else’s. I’ve honored spiritual authority, lived under covering, remained silent when I could have defended myself, and endured seasons that tested the very core of my convictions.

This article is not the product of bitterness.

It is the burden of someone who still loves the Church.

I’m hopeful.

I’m also deeply concerned.

Not ultimately for the future of Christ’s Church, because Jesus made an unshakable promise: “I will build My church, and the gates of Hades shall not prevail against it” (Matthew 16:18, NKJV).

I’m concerned for those who can no longer distinguish between what Jesus is building for Himself and what people are building for themselves in His name.

Scripture warns us that wolves don’t announce themselves as wolves. They come dressed as sheep (Matthew 7:15). Sometimes narcissism hides behind charisma. Nepotism disguises itself as loyalty. Control masquerades as wisdom. Manipulation borrows the language of honor. Platforms become more valuable than people, and the household of God begins looking less like a family and more like a marketplace.

Jesus did not tolerate that.

When He entered the temple, He overturned the tables, drove people out with a whip of cords, and declared, “My house shall be called a house of prayer,” but you have made it “a den of thieves.” (Matthew 21:13; John 2:13-17, NKJV).

One of the most sobering moments in Scripture is found in the story of Eli.

Samuel did not primarily confront Hophni and Phinehas.

He confronted their father.

Why?

Because Heaven holds fathers accountable for what they tolerate within their household.

Eli’s failure was not simply that his sons sinned.

It was that he honored them above God by refusing to restrain them (1 Samuel 2:29; 3:11-14).

That passage has challenged me for years.

It reminds me that true fathers protect the household, even when correction is painful.

Honor does not ignore sin.

Humility does not conceal egregious patterns in the name of preserving peace.

Love does not require silence when people are being harmed.

Calling attention to broken patterns, unhealthy cycles, and corrupt systems is not rebellion.

Sometimes it is repentance.

Sometimes flipping tables is the most loving thing Jesus does.

I believe we are living in a season where the Father is lovingly restoring His house.

Tables are turning.

Truth is emerging.

Hidden things are coming into the light.

Justice is not merely being demanded.

It is being established.

Not because God has abandoned His Church.

But because He loves His Bride too much to leave her captive to counterfeit fathers, corrupt systems, or performative religion.

My prayer is that this article would not produce suspicion.

I pray it would produce discernment.

Not cynicism toward the Church.

But deeper affection for the Church Jesus is building.

May we become the kind of family that reflects the Father so faithfully that sons and daughters never have to wonder whether they belong.

Fortress Ministries, also known as Fortified Families, is a nonprofit ministry dedicated to strengthening faith, family, and functionality through biblical discipleship, relational support, and practical restoration.

It was not our original intent to issue a public statement at this time. However, following a recent public communication from a ministry with which we were formally affiliated from 2015 to 2020, we believe it is important to provide clarity. Brian and Camden Starley are currently under our covering. For the past two months, we have been actively securing provisions, resources, and finances to implement a thorough, excellent, long-term restoration program designed to support them and others in similar seasons. We have maintained discretion out of respect for their humility, brokenness, and desire to heal.

We have discussed our plan in detail with Dr. Randy Clark and Deanne Clark, as well as Phill Urena and his team. All parties are in full agreement that this is the appropriate next step.

We do not believe a decade of faithful service should be discredited or discarded precipitously. While accountability and healthy protocols are essential, we also affirm the need for thoughtful processes of restoration and relational discipleship outside of acute crisis. The purpose of this statement is not to criticize, but to bring balanced clarity and to highlight the vital role of covering, community, and redemptive care.

We remain committed to the redemptive work of God in every life and marriage.

“The Lord is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer” (2 Samuel 22:2, NKJV).

May we pursue restoration with seriousness, prayerfulness, and unwavering love.

We stand in agreement with the scriptural call to fervent love that

“will cover a multitude of sins” (1 Peter 4:8, NKJV).

If you feel led to contribute to meaningful solutions by walking alongside Gospel laborers in need of assistance, we invite you to learn more and partner with us at fortified-families.org.

In Christ’s service,

Justin and Amanda Allen, Ryan and Taylor Dorrell
Executive Directors / Leadership Team
Fortress Ministries (Fortified Families)
fortified-families.org

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The Magnifying Power of AI

The introduction of easily accessible AI mechanisms has advanced information, education, and access to bountiful resources for all people. Yet resources—money, fame, influence, visibility, platforms, and more—often reveal what already exists, hidden deep within the recesses of the human soul. AI acts as a magnifier of what is there, or what is not. In addition to amplifying the existing, it occupies voids and vacuums. Curated content has supplanted carefully formed thoughts, philosophy, and critical thinking. Seasoned leaders are increasingly replaced by AI bots, ambitious young charismatic figures regurgitating information in real time, and a smorgasbord of perfectly polished performances and presentations that lack authenticity—and, as a result, carry no true authority.

All of the answers, none of the tests. Flawless information, no formation. Verified accounts with no accountability.

I have heard it said many times that accountability means a person or organization being held to account for their ability. If this is true, and we are entrusting our futures and our formation to those who have not been tested, tempered, or developed through the trials of life, what does the future hold if we follow this path down the tracks laid before us? As a prophet, strategist, visionary—or whatever title fits—I find this concerning at best and catastrophic at worst.

Lessons from Eden

I would remind you that the original sin in Eden was Adam and Eve’s choice to eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil—to discern for themselves because they were feeding from a different source. They had the invitation to eat from the tree of life with no consequences.

“Then the serpent said to the woman, ‘You will not surely die. For God knows that in the day you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.’”
Genesis 3:4-5 (NKJV)

But the day they ate of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, they surely died. What died in them that day? Was it their humanity? The divinity or God-given aspects within them? Was it union and communion with the Creator? The answer is likely yes to all. The parallels are too numerous to count. The red flags are so plentiful that it might seem as though we are headed to a carnival, when in reality I believe carnage will be the outcome.

I am not anti-technology. I love creativity and innovation, and I am generally for progress, growth, and transformation. But source matters, my friends.

The Cost of Surrendering Our Source

Eventually, your source will ask something of you. I wonder if we have inadvertently signed away our authority and autonomy to an intelligence, spirit, or entity that is simply looking for a host. Are we that easy to deceive? I think so. We often belittle, trivialize, and scrutinize Eve for being so easily deceived by the serpentine being in the garden, who raised the question: “Did God really say that?” If you stop to think about it, it is astonishing. They enjoyed unrestrained, face-to-face relationship with God and open access to everything they needed. They could have directly inquired of Him in ways we can scarcely understand. Yet still, the serpentine being was able to “deceive” them both. It did not occur to them to ask God on the spot, “Hey, what was that thing You said about the tree again? I want to make sure I am remembering it correctly.” Or at least to pause and consider whether something that does not bear His image or likeness should inform them of who they are and what is best for them.

This speaks to a deeper issue in the human heart—one that is profoundly philosophical and existential. Often, when faced with relationship or information, we choose information. Yet this is not what we were created for. We were created to know and be known relationally. We are relational creatures.

Demonic Systems and Nephilim Technology

Demonic systems, unseen pathways, and networking systems (doctrines of demons) exist as portals to connect demons to bodies. Demons, simply defined, are entities, personalities, and intellects without bodies, seeking a host. The disembodied spirits of the Nephilim—“Fallen Ones” (in Scripture they are called Nephilim → Gibborim → Anakim → Rephaim → Emim → Zamzummim (Zuzim) → Avvim)—echoes of an age long ago, half human and half fallen angel, abominations, the giants who always inhabited the land promised to God’s chosen people. Their demonic plan is to inhabit the earth, desecrate God’s image, and destroy His kingdom.

Is artificial intelligence Nephilim technology? I do not know the answer. But if you apply the principles and playbook that demons have used with great regularity since the beginning of time, the similarities are striking. Consider the Genesis 6 accounts right before the flood in Noah’s day. Examine the Tower of Babel. Look to the references in Isaiah and Job, or the account of Satan falling from heaven like lightning. We recognize that God covers His hands with lightning, and the inevitable conclusion is that to defy God is to meet one’s demise. It is worth considering our source.

The Battle for Life and Substance

It could be argued that the evidence or substance created by faith through hope is the fruit system of a root system that goes down deep into the soil of our psyche. If this is true, the analogy in the title carries weight. Seeds, soil, fruits, and roots create a delicate ecosystem that is an accurate outflow of our internal world. I would imagine that the seeds from the fruit on the tree of life would produce a very different type of garden than the seeds from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.

Jesus said, “I have come that they may have life, and that they may have it more abundantly” (John 10:10, NKJV). Satan has been attacking the Messiah from the very beginning with the question, “Did He really say that?” The devil exists “to steal, and to kill, and to destroy” (John 10:10, NKJV) everything the Lord has built—through control, manipulation, and misinformation. The father of lies has much to say about everything.

“And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us” (John 1:14, NKJV). He is “a Man of sorrows and acquainted with grief” (Isaiah 53:3, NKJV). He “came to His own, and His own did not receive Him” (John 1:11, NKJV), and He was rejected in His own hometown. “The whole world lies under the sway of the wicked one” (1 John 5:19, NKJV), also called the prince of the power of the air, and few are even aware.

I fear we are creating an atmosphere that is shiny, perfect, and sterile—an atmosphere of death by design (though not in the way one might first think): perfection without pain or inconvenience. The unfortunate byproduct is that people have lost their purpose as they anchor their identity in productivity—constantly creating, rarely communing. Drowning in an ocean of content, starving for an ounce of substance.

Author’s Note: Choosing Substance Over Spectacle

As I survey the landscape of leadership in the current cultural climate, I cannot help but observe that it feels dystopian and utopian at the same time. It is almost as if we were promised something that looked one way from the outside yet proved drastically different upon closer inspection of the interior. We have been promised knowledge, information, and access to tools of potential with little to no cost to ourselves. This gives me great caution. Anytime anyone offers you everything for nothing, there is something you do not yet understand—something hidden—and that makes me nervous.

Jesus is an honest, straight shooter. To find your life, you must lose it. If you want to enter His kingdom, you must die to yourself first. Before you build, populate, generate, or prompt, I challenge you to ask a different question. Rather than “What can I do?” ask the Lord, “What should I do?” You may find a lot less content, but you will end up with far more substance.

In the midst of our verbal and external processing, I referred to our experience as “trying to hear the erratic rhythms of the Spirit.” I said it without thinking much of it, but my friend stopped me.

“Justin,” he said, “that makes zero sense... unless you are spiritually discerned. In the Spirit, it tracks though.”

He paused and emphatically encouraged me to unpack the revelation resting beneath the surface, hiding in plain sight. He said it was brilliant (at least that’s what I choose to remember), and that if I articulated it intentionally, it would unlock so much for so many.

So here I am, attempting to articulate a perspective that is nuanced, consistently inconsistent, and difficult to map on purpose. Like looking backwards to see the future, it doesn’t make sense, yet it does. Patterns, cycles, and revolutions cannot be studied closely unless you zoom out, take your time, and refuse to rush to conclusions or force things into neat categories.

The Prophet's Relationship with Timing

The lifestyle of a prophet is one of unusual, quirky, and even undesirable practices that distinguish them from the general populace. It is extreme, passionate, radical, disagreeable, inspirational, and polarizing.

Prophets live in a future that is constantly reflecting on the past while being triggered in the present.

This is why they are masters at discerning the times and seasons. They analyze, conceptualize, and evangelize a future greater than what we have seen or known, anchored in truths uttered in the past and clinging to visions that push the boundaries of today. Prophets are proficient at quantifying and codifying seasons, cycles, and revolutions.

All truth, or truths, are held in tension. I remember in Bible college certain words and doctrines were called antinomies: seeming contradictions that actually create realities where multiple things are accurate simultaneously. Like two vehicles chained together but driving in opposite directions, it creates a great deal of tension.

Tension is not necessarily bad or good. It simply is. It is not neutral either. It isn’t like gravity because it doesn’t ground you. In my experience, the opposite is often the case. It agitates, irritates, and brings things to the surface to be examined in a more robust way. It brings things into sight for sifting.

Shift Happens. Sift Happens.

I often use the expression, “Shift Happens” ... shift in seasons, jobs, spiritual experiences, relationships, community, and so on. In that same regard, I could probably make a bumper sticker that reads, “SIFT HAPPENS!” In every shifting there is a sifting, a removal of the sediment on our souls that sticks to the walls of this earthen vessel, often restricting us from optimal performance.

Ditches, Wells, and the Flow of the Spirit

Forsaking the flow of the Spirit is a fruitless and frivolous “last-ditch effort” to control or coerce our environment to our desires. Ironically, that expression literally means to dig in and die in a ditch on principle, to lay one’s life down for an idea or philosophy, the opposite of fluidity and pliability.

We dig trenches. He releases fountains that flow from deep wells. We try to contain. He was never looking to be contained.

The way we partner with the flow of the Holy Spirit is not by creating beautiful containers. Like the banks of a river directing the flow, we partner. We do not dictate. We yield to the flow.

What is a ditch if not a dry riverbed?

As stewards of the presence of God, we must remain faithful to the flow of the Spirit (see 1 Corinthians 4:2).

“For My people have committed two evils: They have forsaken Me, the fountain of living waters, and hewn themselves cisterns, broken cisterns that can hold no water.”
Jeremiah 2:13 NKJV

This word is not solely for prophets. It is for anyone with ears to hear what the Spirit is saying.

Mastering the Inaudible Tempo of the Spirit

In this dance of life, your ability to develop discernment that anticipates, celebrates, and integrates the erratic rhythms of the Spirit into the path you happen to find yourself on will, without fail, determine the degree of fruit you will bear.

If I were speaking in business or financial terms, I would say “margin.” In radio or telecommunications, I would say “bandwidth.” In coaching, I might explore the idea of an individual’s “capacity.”

The erratic rhythms of grace in our lives will not feel like grace or rhythm if we posture ourselves against the flow or current of the Spirit. We must learn to move and remain pliable in order to traverse the landscape of life. Mastery of them requires us to be molded by them, not the other way around.

Oftentimes, as a result of our humanity, when faced with resistance we fight it rather than “go with the flow.” These erratic rhythms are always in motion, flowing effortlessly in a way that mere observation will not capture. You have to dive in and immerse yourself in the flow.

To quote the famous martial artist Bruce Lee:

“Be formless, shapeless, like water. You put water into a cup, it becomes the cup. You put water into a bottle, it becomes the bottle. You put it in a teapot, it becomes the teapot. Now water can flow or it can crash. Be water, my friend.”

The Rigid Rails of Religion

The younger me would absolutely despise everything I am currently writing. On top of that, he would add self-righteous indignation to the equation, further complicating the matter by weaponizing Scriptures in a convenient attempt to demonize an ideology he doesn’t understand.

After all, that version of me was a crusader, a warrior, a protector. I would analyze, criticize, and criminalize any behavior, philosophy, or theology I didn’t deem safe for myself or anyone in my sphere.

That’s a whole other article. We could call it The Rigid Rails of Religion.

“But now, O Lord, You are our Father; We are the clay, and You our potter; And all we are the work of Your hand.”
Isaiah 64:8 NKJV

“But indeed, O man, who are you to reply against God? Will the thing formed say to him who formed it, ‘Why have you made me like this?’ Does not the potter have power over the clay, from the same lump to make one vessel for honor and another for dishonor?”
Romans 9:20-21 NKJV

Clay in the Potter's Hands

Moldable, pliable, and humble were not characteristics I valued or even acknowledged. Keen discernment, discipline, and “holiness” were what I cared about because I could control those things.

I valued control because I had never truly experienced stability, or at least “stability” had been modeled to me as control. I wanted safety, but He wanted me.

Safety doesn’t develop character, resilience, or depth. Resistance does. Pressure does. Constant change gives one the capacity to increase their capacity.

I needed a dragon to slay, a demon to displace, a battle to win ... but I couldn’t handle the stillness of a Sabbath or the powerful presence found in a pause.

To quote one of my pastors:

“There are no trophies for catching wolves in sheep’s clothing and punishing them.”
Matt Croushorn

Formed by the Rhythm

Our activity speaks more of our identity than it does about the situation more times than not. Our pliability speaks to our trust. Our obedience speaks to our faith.

In the end, the erratic rhythms of the Spirit are not chaos to be feared but an invitation to deeper trust. They call us out of rigid control and into a living, breathing relationship with the One who shapes us.

The more we surrender to the Potter’s hands, the more we discover that what feels erratic is actually intentional, fashioning us into vessels capable of carrying greater measures of His glory.

Learning to move with these rhythms does not eliminate tension or resistance. It teaches us to be formed by them, bearing fruit that lasts in every season.

May we have ears to hear, hearts that yield, and lives that flow with the unsearchable wisdom of the Spirit.

Author’s Note

This piece emerged from a spontaneous moment in conversation that refused to let me go. What began as an offhand phrase has become a growing conviction in my own walk with God.

If you find yourself in a shifting, sifting season, know that you are not lost. You are being shaped.

I’d love to hear how these erratic rhythms are showing up in your life. Feel free to share in the comments or write me directly.

Thank you for reading and for joining me on this journey of learning to be pliable clay in the hands of a masterful Potter.

— Justin

This is the foundational principle of Newton’s Third Law of Motion. Formally, it states that whenever one object exerts a force on a second object, the second object simultaneously exerts a force of equal magnitude and opposite direction on the first.

This is often misapplied and incorrectly quoted, but in physics it means something very specific and quantitative: if two objects interact, the forces they impart on each other are equal in magnitude and opposite in direction. Because of this, there can never be an isolated force—forces always exist in pairs.

If this is true (and it is), it explains a lot of what we experience in the natural as a result of unseen spiritual forces, powers, principalities, and wicked rulers.

Unseen Spiritual Forces

I don’t know if Newton ever took into account Jezebel or Ahab. I don’t know if he had an awareness of Python or Leviathan. I don’t know that he ever stopped to consider the Pharisaical or Sadducee mentality.

He was studying what he could see and touch. There was a curiosity about the unseen realm that may have been due to a lack of perception, or perhaps a gift mix or skill set that was simply incomplete. True spiritual sight demands that we look at both the physical/natural realm and the spiritual/unseen realm—making the appropriate connections or ties, or in many cases severing the appropriate ties in order to create breakthrough in the natural.

Exposure culture is flooding the headlines of the modern Pentecostal and evangelical Western Church. It’s almost daily now that we read another accusation, confrontation, or indictment against a leader formerly entrusted with the formation of the masses—from prophets to evangelists to pastors. No one is immune. Questions are raised such as, “Who watches the watchmen?” and “Who shepherds the shepherds?”—and in some cases, rightfully so.

However, I fear that in our pursuit of truth, justice, and right practice, we have partnered with a spirit of fear and lovelessness, and yoked ourselves with the accuser of the brethren.

Unaddressed Bias

Science often carries a legality, dogma, or finality to its conclusions. It doesn’t often leave space or margin for the nuance of multiple realms—namely, the spiritual realm. Modern medical science connects the physical and even makes space for the soul (the mind, will, and emotions). It acknowledges consciousness, at least on a singular plane. At minimum, it leaves margin for that.

But the spiritual world carries an intangible yet undeniable effect and influence on this natural world. Everything we see and experience came from that which is not seen. It came from the mind and imagination of God, as well as a realm we cannot perceive naturally or physically. Spiritual gateways, doors, and portals release unseen atmospheres and spiritual laws into this dimension on a regular basis. Much like motion, the molecules and particles in the unseen realm create the inertia which we acknowledge visibly as momentum—and it begins first in the spirit.

I said all of that to say this: Nothing is one-dimensional. Because of this, any dogma or even dichotomy will fail to articulate reality as we know it. I feel this is the case with Mike Winger. I don’t know him personally. I have no ought against him, and I make it a rule not to create judgments about people I have not interacted with. That being said, if the Lord speaks to me specifically about someone, I am obliged to honor His perspective of them and contend for that version of their life.

Deep Exposure

Back in February, I was reading articles, listening to videos, and fielding the usual amount of calls and texts concerning friends, acquaintances, and ministry people regarding this man. To be crystal clear, I have had close contact with the majority of the people Winger has set his sights on in the last several years. For the most part, the behaviors in question were not things I had experienced personally or even really understood. In other cases, it actually made a lot of things make sense.

I don’t actually have a problem with questions, inquiries, or even confrontation. I often welcome it, as I tend to be cut from that cloth. I do believe there’s a way to go about it that is honorable, functional, and biblically sound.

I can’t remember the exact video I was watching, but there were several of his friends and associates offering commentary on how certain situations were being handled. I do not believe it is possible for people to be completely unbiased. We do not see the world as it is; we see the world as we are. We are as clear and unbiased as we are whole and healed.

This becomes particularly difficult when we operate within contexts such as the legal system, different degrees of due process, and the search for truth and justice. If my perception of truth or justice is skewed because I was abused in a different season of my life and never reconciled it, I will develop a God complex or hero syndrome in an attempt to become the person I needed back then. This excuses the judgment, clouds the discernment, and creates an entirely new broken cycle. It’s challenging because we often fail to realize we’re doing this—and it rarely occurs to us that we could be wrong or at least not have all the information.

What Does the Lord Say? Who Is Ehud?

I continued watching the video and noticed I began to feel strong, visceral emotion. I was actually triggered. I paused, realized my perspective was skewed in that moment, and prayed a simple prayer: “God, what do You say about Mike Winger? What is happening?”

Immediately, without hesitation, I heard this response, clear in my spirit: “I have anointed him as an Ehud. His gift is to confront—how he chooses to use that is his prerogative.”

A thousand questions flooded my mind. My spirit began to swirl, and my soul felt a weird sense of comfort, as it had not yet occurred to me to ask the Lord about this man. If I had a dollar for every time I formed an opinion without asking the Lord, I would be a wealthy man. May the Lord have mercy on me as I grow in grace.

Regardless, as I began to inquire of the Lord, I had to brush up on exactly who Ehud was because I had forgotten. I’m sure you immediately recognized the name at first mention 😅. You’ll find the story in Judges 3:15-30 (NKJV). I strongly encourage you to give it a read.

Here are some key bullet points worth acknowledging: Ehud was a man of action. Interestingly, Scripture notes that he was a left-handed man from the tribe of Benjamin—the ravenous wolf. Equally interesting is that King Eglon is the only person specifically referred to in Scripture as fat—really fat—making the story quite entertaining, to say the least. The underlying implication is that he had grown fat off his people, but his leadership was very poor. He served himself, and the people were crying out because of his overindulgence. This is a pattern you see over and over in the Old Testament.

The world is full of Ehuds, Ahabs, Elis, and Hamans—people with gifts, skills, and anointing to do certain things. The problem with gifts and calls is that they are irrevocable. They cannot be taken away simply because they are stewarded poorly. The irony is that if you have a Newtonian brain partnered with an Ehud execution, you could potentially kill all the leaders and burn down the kingdom with no thought to the ramifications on those living in it—all the while using your God-given gifts to utterly destroy those created in His image.

The challenge that has always existed with reformed theologians walking in mainline evangelical circles is that they fundamentally misunderstand or disagree with Pentecostal and charismatic theology, and as a result often demonize practices they fail to see value in. You see, Ehud used flattery to gain intimate access. He got close and said, “I have a message from God for you.” Once he was within reach, he took a short sword and drove it deep into the gut of Eglon, slicing him open from hip to hip. He ended his life in one of the most intimate and embarrassing ways possible. He not only killed him—he humiliated him as he took his life. Crazy story.

I’d be curious to see how Ehud might operate in a New Covenant reality. He would most definitely be a liberator of sorts, going against the grain, a seeker of truth and justice. But how would he go about it? Would it be possible that instead of deadly force, he might operate through legal right? If that’s the case, how important might it be for him to be led by the Spirit, baptized in fire, and deeply intimate with Jesus? I would imagine it would be advantageous for him to have really balanced theology to weather the storms of scandal, crisis, and accusation. But I digress…

What Happens When Kings Fall?

The answer? It depends. It depends on the succession plan, the structure of the kingdom, the state of the people, and—oh, the timing. You see, bad leaders rarely have succession plans. They’re not thinking about legacy in the sense of generations. They grow drunk on their own press, public image, and illusions of grandeur that fuel their ambitious pursuits.

Good leaders reproduce themselves. They cultivate strong leaders anchored in identity and create paths toward purpose, creating sustainability. This is particularly unfortunate in the case of God-ordained movements that have strayed from original intent and design. When regime change is a result of a hostile takeover or a juicy scandal, it often results in an unfortunate repetition until the organization meets its demise.

I say this because in many cases King Eglon is dead—his guts are on the floor and his corpse is by the door. Who takes the throne will determine the direction of movements, nations, and kingdom endeavors. Sometimes it’s councils, tribunals, and democratic processes.

Ehuds, Ahabs, Hamans, and Elis

In my opinion, the torch in many regards has been passed to sons, daughters, and the occasional opportunist who have stayed around long enough to outlast their “competition.”

I would remind you of Eli. He was rebuked by a child—Samuel—for the wickedness of his sons under the oversight and purview of his leadership. Eli was a priest, but he was a passivist. The young boy dedicated to the house of the Lord (the very same Samuel that Scripture tells us none of his words fell to the ground) rebuked an elder priest concerning the state of his house, and his whole family was judged.

1 Samuel - Eli, Hophni, and Phinehas

“Now the sons of Eli were corrupt; they did not know the Lord… They would take for themselves all that the people brought… Therefore the sin of the young men was very great before the Lord…” (1 Samuel 2:12-17, excerpts). Eli’s sons, Hophni and Phinehas, stole portions of the sacrifices meant for God, threatened those who resisted, and committed sexual immorality with the women who served at the tabernacle. Eli rebuked them weakly but did not restrain them. A man of God prophesied judgment on Eli’s house because “his sons made themselves vile, and he did not restrain them” (1 Samuel 2:29-34). Samuel, growing in favor with God, delivered the rebuke. Eli’s family line lost the priesthood, and both sons died the same day in battle, with the Ark of the Covenant was captured by the Philistines.

This is wild as well: Deeply frustrated about the transition plans for the kingdom, Haman devised a scheme to remove God’s chosen people (Esther and Mordecai). This is wild and actually poetic because the same gallows he intended to execute them on ended up being his demise.

Esther 7 - Haman

Haman, fueled by pride and hatred toward Mordecai, convinced King Ahasuerus to issue a decree to destroy all the Jews. He built a 50-cubit gallows specifically for Mordecai. Through Esther’s courage and God’s providence, the plot was exposed. The king ordered: “Hang him on it!” So they hanged Haman on the gallows that he had prepared for Mordecai (Esther 7:9-10). Haman’s own scheme backfired completely, leading to his death and the elevation of Mordecai.

We hear much of Jezebel—that name causes fear to hit the hearts of many because of those left in the wake and impact of her wicked devices. However, there is no Jezebel without an Ahab. He held the rightful seat to the throne but refused to lead and placed a witch in charge of the things (kingdom) entrusted to him. As a result, to this day we have references and severe warnings all the way up into the book of Revelation, and even the rebuke that says you tolerate that woman Jezebel—which, if you read between the lines, implies Ahab is alive and well.

1 Kings 16:31 - Ahab and Jezebel

Ahab, king of Israel, married Jezebel, daughter of Ethbaal king of the Sidonians, and “went and served Baal and worshiped him” (1 Kings 16:31). Jezebel influenced him to promote idolatry, kill prophets, and seize Naboth’s vineyard through false accusation and murder. Elijah confronted Ahab for his weakness and complicity. In Revelation, Jesus rebukes the church in Thyatira: “Nevertheless I have a few things against you, because you allow that woman Jezebel, who calls herself a prophetess, to teach and seduce My servants to commit sexual immorality and eat things sacrificed to idols” (Revelation 2:20). Ahab’s passivity enabled Jezebel’s destructive influence.

The Castration of Western Church Leaders

I’ve noticed a trend this year in the American churches I observe, advise, and attend—something I am calling the Winger Effect. A postmodern neo-Pentecostal charismatic reckoning of sorts. Every single place I go, every leader I interface with brings up this man’s name as if he will suddenly appear at the first sight of malpractice. They weigh every decision with meticulous detail, weighing the consequences, the pros and the cons, the outcomes of potential choices. They ask, “Have you seen the most recent video?” “Did you see what he said about (the most recent victim)?”

It has virtually replaced any conversation about the Holy Spirit, the leading of the Lord, or prophetic purpose. I don’t believe this is Mike Winger’s fault or even really his intention. I just think it’s what happens when Ehud drives the dagger deep into the belly of Eglon—and word gets out.

The Fear of the Lord has been replaced with the fear of being featured in the next six-hour-long YouTube exposé. The leading of the Lord is slowly, consistently being replaced by fear, repackaged as wisdom. The organizational infrastructure of many governing bodies has moved away from the family of God and into a hybrid of survival, optics, and the castration of their leaders.

I believe in oversight. I think godly counsel is extremely important, and there should be checks and balances. But moving from extreme licentious behavior to extremely restrictive behavior is going to produce very bad fruit—just different bad fruit. I’m watching with my own eyes the aftermath as a wave of sons and daughters pay for the sins of their fathers. The irony is that the dream they were sold—the life they built around the lies concerning legacy—in many ways is becoming the nails in their coffin.

When no one accepts responsibility for shortcomings, acknowledges deficit in their character, or simply leads with authority, everyone will pay the bill. When anointed leaders are replaced by appointed representatives, you can rest assured nothing bad will happen. You can also rest assured that nothing good will happen. Because you have effectively sterilized a movement. Translation: it stops moving. It’s dead in the water. There is no life.

“Where no oxen are, the trough is clean; But much increase comes by the strength of an ox.” (Proverbs 14:4 NKJV)

There’s no mess to clean up when the stall is empty. There’s also no work that can be done—and you also no longer need a stall in the first place.

Again, I would like to emphatically state that I don’t think this is Mike Winger’s fault or even his problem. Much the contrary, I think it is exposing the existing shallow foundations and deeply fractured souls of those leading the majority of movements now. The crippling fear of man has reached an all-time high, resulting in a gridlock—stalemate.

Which Brings Me to This Final Unavoidable Paradox

What happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object?

When an unstoppable force meets an immovable object, it creates a classic paradox. Because both premises are logically incompatible, they cannot coexist. In reality, the scenario is physically impossible: neither object could exist, as one would require infinite energy and the other infinite mass. These are the options that remain:

- They pass through each other.

- Destruction and deflection.

- They are the same thing.

Whether the answer is that the Winger Effect passes through the current structure of leadership like a filter in the spirit, removing the impurities from the air—much like the interaction of relationship with both the Spirit and the truth (they’re not at odds with each other but rather complementary, and at the same time hold each other accountable to a greater truth)… Or if either has met with deflection to avoid destruction of a system that is clearly faulty and needs reform… Or just maybe—they are the same things, authored by the same God, motivated by the same Spirit, and the reactions to their existence reveal deeper things hidden in all of us: deeper fears, deeper flaws, deeper questions. I think you see where I’m going.

This is more the beginning of a larger conversation than the close of one singular thought process. So I won’t attempt to close this loop but rather leave it open. See what unfolds.

I will say this:

If you’re a leader, now is the time to lead.

If you’re broken, now is the time to get healed.

If you are lying, now is the time to tell the truth.

If you have sinned, now is the time to confess.

If you have left the presence of the Lord, now is the time to return.

“I counsel you to buy from Me gold refined in the fire, that you may be rich; and white garments, that you may be clothed, that the shame of your nakedness may not be revealed; and anoint your eyes with eye salve, that you may see. As many as I love, I rebuke and chasten. Therefore be zealous and repent.” (Revelation 3:18-19 NKJV)

To be continued…

But today was different. At 5:30 a.m. on a quiet Saturday, I felt the Lord sitting on the edge of my bed, closer than I expected. I heard Him say, “Get ready. I want to talk to you about the next 40 years.”

So I did what any reasonable grown man turning 40 would do: I drew a hot bath with Epsom salt, soaked for a while (I told you I was 40 & besides if I want to start my day with a bath, I’m a grown man and I will), got dressed, grabbed my phone, and prepared to head out for a walk, a jog, or a drive through town as it slowly woke up.

Mirrors and Reflections

Right outside our bedroom door is a little alcove with a full-length mirror where Amanda and I usually do one last check before facing the world. As I stepped out, still half-asleep, I was met by golden balloons, big numbers, and a banner that boldly declared,

“We ❤️ you!”

I wiped the sleep from my eyes. In the dim light, I noticed something behind the big letters—a unique pattern. I flipped on the flashlight on my phone and leaned in. These weren’t just decorations. They were words. So many of them! Tiny, handwritten messages covering the entire banner—probably five feet by three feet—filled with prophetic words from people I’ve known and loved over the years.

About four lines in, the tears started falling.

I heard that gentle, internal voice of the Father: “Surprised? Not what you expected, huh?”

When the Father Waits on You

My mind raced, as it does. I had planned to wait on the Lord this morning. Instead, He was waiting on me. I thought I was going out to walk and talk with Him. He wanted to sit with me.

It’s funny how perspective shapes posture, how anticipation colors expectation, and how internal voices create external realities.

I quietly pulled up a chair and began to read. A flood of emotions washed over me. Friends, family, and loved ones had taken real time—sitting with the Lord on my behalf, writing with intention, care, and honesty. AI didn’t generate this. The margins weren’t perfect. The memories weren’t polished. This was raw, human, and beautifully physical. An orchestra of obedience, executed through the kindness and humility of my wife - who transcribed every single word as she curated maybe the most impactful gift I have ever received. Apparently, she and the Lord had been planning this for a minute.

I fear we’ve become so efficient that we’ve grown sterile—not clean, but stripped of living microorganisms, incapable of the kind of reproduction that only happens in real relationship. We drown in information, productivity, and data, and often miss the aching void where humanity used to live.

As I read, I wept.

As I wept, I remembered.

As I remembered, I prayed—thanking God for the victories and the defeats, the joy and the agony, the old and the new, life and even death.

It wasn’t lost on me that I sat in front of a mirror to “reflect”—yet I had to cover it up to truly see reality.

The Real Feed

This was the opposite of my normal morning. Usually I reach for my phone first, scrolling through a digital feed of comments, opinions, and noise—doomscrolling my way into overstimulation from sources I’d never naturally encounter.

Instead, I received handwritten words from real people who know me. This wasn’t what I expected when the Lord said He wanted to talk about the next 40 years. I wasn’t looking to revisit the past. I wanted “out with the old, in with the new.”

But it’s just like the Lord, isn’t it? He shows you where you’ve come from so you can clearly see where you’re going. He brings up the very thing you’d rather avoid before launching you into what’s next. He heals you before He hurls you into the great unknown.

Lately, He’s been speaking to me about the two reports—the same ones the spies brought back in Numbers 13 and 14. When faced with God’s promises, what report will I believe? The discouraging one or the hopeful one? Will I trust? Will I obey? Will I keep my heart fully in the game with hope held high?

A Birthday Prophecy

It’s my birthday, so I feel permission to prophesy. Here’s what I sense rising in the days ahead:

> “Behold, the days are coming,” says the Lord,

> “When the plowman shall overtake the reaper,

> And the treader of grapes him who sows seed;

> The mountains shall drip with sweet wine,

> And all the hills shall flow with it.

> I will bring back the captives of My people Israel;

> They shall build the waste cities and inhabit them;

> They shall plant vineyards and drink wine from them;

> They shall also make gardens and eat fruit from them.

> I will plant them in their land,

> And no longer shall they be pulled up

> From the land I have given them,”

> Says the Lord your God.

> — Amos 9:13-15

Hope is taking the stand

It’s wild how quickly we welcome trauma to narrate our story—like a demonic court reporter eagerly taking the stand. Yet hope gets ruthlessly interrogated, shown no mercy, her weight and track record dismissed.

Today I make this announcement: Hope is taking the stand! She will testify to the truth. And the Judge is about to rule in her favor. The accuser will be embarrassed as the goodness of God utterly decimates every demonic narrative spoken against God’s purposes for your life.

I won’t offer a neat closing statement here. That would feel wrong—because this isn’t an ending. It’s a beginning. A full-circle, revolutionary new era of intimacy and identity.

Let the Lord heal you as Hope testifies to His goodness, faithfulness, and grace.

Do you see what I see?

In the dream, I found myself in an old city during a new season—familiar sights, sounds, memories, and roads. I was driving a vehicle along a narrow backroad toward an old church, a symbol of a previous season. As I approached, the road began to bottleneck. A construction worker in a reflective vest directed me into a very outdated rest area, reminiscent of an old travel center. I was required to park and exit the vehicle.

Stepping inside felt both strange and eerily familiar. The air smelled stale, the decor was decades behind the times, and long lines of people waited eagerly at a Wendy’s. The line stretched 20–30 people deep in a crowded space. The atmosphere was heavy—somewhere between a wake and a graveside service. Everything appeared right in its place, yet profoundly out of season. There was no one within 20–25 years of my age (I am now 40). As I sat there, confused and disoriented, a voice cut through the room like a knife.

I turned quickly, expecting to see Dr. Jack Taylor—Papa Jack—a man who profoundly shaped me during formative years of ministry. To my surprise, it was his son. He sounded exactly like his father but looked and moved differently. He used similar language, yet something was missing. There were spiritual sons present, but they carried a deficiency. The depth and weight that Jack carried were absent. It felt deeply uncomfortable in an intimate way. If you had not known the Father, you might not have noticed the difference. But I did, and it was difficult to witness.4

As I stepped back to reevaluate my path—how I might return to that old season, that old church, those old connections—the Holy Spirit and the Father spoke to me simultaneously in a clarion, unified voice:

“The Road Back is Closed. You cannot go there anymore.”

The tone was stern and final. It settled the matter. There would be no questioning “why,” no lingering on reasons. It felt like a book closing in the spirit realm, as if decisions, free will, and the unfolding of time had brought us to this irreversible point.

The Tension of Deferred Hope and Failed Torches

In recent months, I have wrestled deeply with the tension of hope deferred. Prophetic promises linger without clear timing. Candidly, I have grieved the failure of fathers and previous generations to successfully pass torches, develop succession plans, and build legacies that transcend personality. To be fair, this is not merely a personal issue—it appears national, even global. It is coming to a head, approaching a significant moment of turning.

I often recall Perry Stone’s words: “I wasn’t God’s first choice. I wasn’t even His second… I think I was fourth or fifth. But I said yes to the Lord. I wasn’t designed for this, but it’s what He asked me to do, and because of that, there’s grace.”

Those words have stayed with me. Many of us were not the original plan, yet we answered “yes.” Grace now carries what was never originally designed for our shoulders.

The dream illuminated this reality with sobering clarity. The old rest area, the outdated church, the deficient echoes of past voices—all represented good things from a former season attempting to operate in the wrong time. The road back is closed not out of cruelty, but out of divine wisdom. Some doors must remain shut so that new ones can open. Some mantles must shift because the oil required for the next assignment cannot flow through outdated vessels.

This is not a rejection of honoring the past or the fathers who poured into us. It is a sober recognition that seasons change, and we must change with them. The Holy Spirit is calling forth a new company of builders—spiritual sons and daughters who will steward legacy with greater intentionality, depth, and purity.

The Invitation Forward

Beloved, if you find yourself at a similar crossroads—grieving what was, wrestling with deferred hope, or sensing the weight of unfinished succession—hear the word of the Lord:

The road back is closed.

You were never meant to live in the rearview mirror. The construction on the old paths is not a detour; it is a divine reroute. The Father is not abandoning what He began—He is completing it through new wineskins, fresh oil, and surrendered sons and daughters who will say “yes” even when the assignment feels beyond their design.

This is our moment to build with greater clarity, to disciple with deeper intentionality, and to pass torches not merely through charisma but through character and strategy. The crushing of previous seasons has produced currency. The deferred hope is not denial—it is preparation.

Let us step away from the outdated rest areas and crowded lines of yesterday. The narrow backroad may have ended, but a new highway is opening before us. Grace abounds for those who will walk it.

What the Lord closes, no man can force open. What He opens, no man can shut.

Author’s Note:
This dream has lingered with me since it came. I share it not as mere anecdote but as a prophetic marker for those in transition. If it resonates, examine the old roads you may still be trying to travel. The Father’s stern love is leading us forward. The best days are not behind us—they are being built right now, through willing hands and surrendered hearts.

The road forward is open. Let us walk it together.

— Justin Allen

If I’m being transparent, the last six months or so I’ve personally been grieving what I believe to be the loss of tremendous potential for my generation… my peers… the brothers and sisters I came up with.

Sunday school. Youth group. Church. Worship nights.

We shared the same environment. We were shaped by the same sermons, the same songs, the same cultural moment.

I was raised in a world that taught us we disciple. It wasn’t optional. It was the mandate of the Gospel. If we were Christians, we were both being discipled and discipling.

That’s just what we did.
I’ve never known anything else.

Now, at 39 years old, I can look back and see a long line of people I’ve walked with. From new believers to what I would call spiritual sons and daughters. The fruit is there. The receipts exist.

We practiced what we preached.

And yet…

When I look at the current landscape of leadership among my contemporaries, I feel a deep unrest. A weight. A vexation in my spirit concerning the conduct, character, and consistency of my generation.

A Heartache I Couldn’t Contain

Sometime last month, my wife and I were on a call with a couple of next-generation leaders that we love and pour into.

We were talking about life, current events, what the Lord has been speaking, and the tension between dreams and disappointment.

And then something unexpected happened.

I broke.

Not a tear. Not composure slipping.

I mean broke.

Through tears, I said:

“I feel like my generation has let your generation down.
There’s a drought… a deficit of fathers and mothers.
We chose ourselves instead of the cross.
We ran from responsibility instead of toward it.
And we haven’t modeled what it looks like to lay your life down for Jesus.”

Something deep shifted in me in that moment.

Since then, I haven’t been able to shake it.

I’ve brought it before the Lord again and again. Because here’s the truth:

You can’t heal what you refuse to feel.

Awareness brings responsibility. And responsibility, rightly handled, leads us back to surrender.

In nearly 20 years of ministry, I’ve never seen a climate like this. The level of failure. Compromise. Scandal.

And what makes it heavier?

I know many of these people.

I’ve stood next to them. Learned from them. Been impacted by them.

This isn’t distant.
This is close.

It’s easy to process failure when it’s a headline. It’s harder when it’s a name you’ve shared meals with.

It hits different.

The Weight of Lonely Responsibility

If I’m honest… I’m also lonely.

There were people who made vows. Promises. Covenants to run the race to the end.

And they’re not here anymore.

We said we would do this together.
And I believed it.

Now there’s a weight. Both spiritual and practical. A responsibility to carry what others have laid down.

And there’s a real dynamic here:

If you carry a prophetic burden, it has a magnetic pull. It will attach things to you that were never assigned to you.

That magnetism must be governed.

Because the Kingdom has a King.

And His name is Jesus.

Kingdoms are not defined by culture. They are defined by the rule and reign of their King.

So let this be a reminder, for you and for me:

Failure doesn’t get the final word.
Fear doesn’t get the final word.
A generation at its worst does not define its destiny.

The Father does.

This Morning, Everything Shifted

This morning, I woke up with the same weight.

Same thoughts. Same loop.

Ready to bring it before the Lord again.

And then… something interrupted the cycle.

I want to be careful here.

Not every word from the Lord comes like thunder. Sometimes it’s not loud or dramatic.

Sometimes it’s like fog.
Like mist.
Like a feather touching water.

Subtle. But alive.

This was one of those moments.

I don’t know if He said it, or if I thought it.

But when it hit me, everything in me came alive.

Hope surged.
Expectation rose.
Life flooded in.

And I chose, intentionally, to partner with it.

“The elder millennials are in bloom.”

I’ve never said that. Never heard it.

But it landed with weight.

And instantly, something started unfolding.

Midlife crisis \ Midlife Awakening

I saw people in their late 30s and early 40s.

Families. Mortgages. Minivans.

People standing at the edge of what the world calls a “midlife crisis”… but what heaven might call a midlife awakening.

I saw disappointment. Disillusionment.
Success that felt empty.
Goals that moved once they were reached.

But I also saw something deeper.

I saw people returning.

Returning to first love.
Returning to surrender.
Returning to the call.

I saw a generation disillusioned with systems. Government. Education. Finance. Culture.

But not collapsing into hopelessness.

Instead…

That disappointment was cutting ties with shallow pursuits.

It was driving them into the secret place.

It was provoking altars.

I saw old prayers—prayed in youth camps, conferences, and late-night worship moments—coming back to life.

Not when expected.
But right on time.

A Movement of Fire and First Love

I believe something is emerging.

And it looks like fire.

It looks like passion.
It looks like first love again.

Hearts that were hardened are being crushed… so they can be made alive again.

Disappointment is being named… so healing can reach it.

And to those who said “yes” years ago but ended up in a mess:

I want to speak to you directly.

There was a time when the only grid for “success” in the Kingdom was full-time ministry or working at a church.

Many of you followed that path sincerely.

And what you found was grief. Corruption. Emptiness.

You gave decades to something that now feels dead.

And now you’re asking:

What was that all for?

Let me answer you plainly:

God is not limited by your misunderstanding.
He has not slipped off the throne.

He is still working all things together for good for those who love Him and are called according to His purpose.

Nothing is wasted.

Not even that.

To the Ones Who Know They Walked Away

There’s another group.

Those who would say, honestly, “I didn’t just get hurt… I made decisions. I failed. I walked away.”

Whether it was fear. Rebellion. Or patterns you couldn’t break…

Hear this clearly:

You are still invited.

Return to your first love.

Do the things you did at first.

It may not look clean.

Second or third marriages.
Strained relationships.
Financial collapse.
Consequences that still linger.

And still…

There is resurrection power on the other side of death.

Pick up your cross.
Follow Him.

Anything is possible.

The Era of Impossibility

We are stepping into something.

An era where things that look dead… live again.

They will say it’s over.
They will say it’s too far gone.
They will say it can’t be done.

Let them talk.

The only question that matters is:

What will He say?

“My sheep hear My voice… and another they will not follow.” (John 10:27)

Closing

So I’ll say it again:

The elder millennials are in bloom.

Beauty for ashes.
Fire from embers.

A full-circle season.

“He who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ.” (Philippians 1:6)

Forty, in Scripture, is the number of crossing over.

And many of you are standing right there.

On the edge.

Elder Millennials—

Your crossing over season has arrived.

It’s not too late to burn. 🔥

In a world consumed with impact, scale, and all things “big,” we’ve quietly lost sight of how the Kingdom actually moves. The truth is, simple acts of obedience—hidden, quiet, and subtle—often change the course of human history.

What we do when we feel nothing… is often the very thing that changes everything.

And I feel like this is for someone—maybe more than someone.
An encouragement in faithful endurance.
A reminder that showing up still matters.

Because there are moments in human history that feel loud.

Crowds. Stadiums. Spotlights.
Moments that carry the weight of significance because everyone can see them.

And then there are moments that feel… painfully quiet.

Obscure. Tense. Personal.
The kind of nights where obedience feels less like destiny and more like survival.

Mordecai Ham lived in both worlds—but the night that matters most didn’t feel like the former. It felt like the latter.

The Myth of “Big Moments”

We tend to believe that the moments that shape history announce themselves.

They don’t.

History is not built on stages.
It’s built on obedience—often reluctant, often costly, often unseen.

Mordecai Ham was not riding a wave of ease or cultural approval. His meetings were marked by tension. Controversy followed him. Resistance wasn’t an interruption to his ministry—it was part of it.

And on one particular night in 1934, in Charlotte, North Carolina, everything in the natural suggested that pulling back would have been reasonable.

Attendance had fluctuated.
Opposition had stirred.
The atmosphere was… heavy.

You know that feeling—
When you’re not sure if it’s wisdom to pivot or fear to retreat.

That thin line.

The Weight of Showing Up

There is a kind of obedience that feels triumphant.

And then there is the kind that feels like dragging your soul across the finish line just to say, “I showed up.”

That night likely felt like the second.

We don’t have a polished, cinematic account of Mordecai Ham walking into that meeting with prophetic certainty that history was about to shift.

What we do have—through scattered historical notes and reflections—is the sense that this was not an easy stretch of meetings for him.

There were frustrations.
There were pressures.
There were reasons to question whether it was “working.”

And yet—he preached.

Not because it felt electric.
Not because the results were obvious.
But because he was assigned.

A Window Into the Night

While there is no verified word-for-word journal entry preserved from Mordecai Ham for that exact night, accounts of his ministry and temperament give us a glimpse into the kind of inner dialogue he likely carried.

If you were to step into that evening—not as a spectator, but as the man responsible—you might hear something like this:

“The resistance tonight feels thicker than usual.
The room isn’t as responsive.
There are more eyes of criticism than hunger.

Lord, am I pushing when I should be pausing?
Or is this the very place You’ve asked me to stand?

I will preach what You’ve given me—
whether it lands softly or collides with the room.

I am not responsible for the response.
Only the obedience.”

No fanfare.
No guarantee.
Just alignment.

The Boy in the Crowd

Somewhere in that meeting sat a teenager.

No spotlight.
No introduction.
No sense, from a human perspective, that the trajectory of global Christianity was sitting quietly in a chair.

And when the invitation was given, that teenager responded.

Billy Graham.

Let that settle for a second.

One man, wrestling through personal resistance and external pressure, chooses to preach anyway.

Another young man, sitting in the anonymity of a crowd, chooses to respond.

And history bends.

The Illusion of Measurable Impact

We are addicted to metrics.

“How many showed up?”
“How many responded?”
“How effective was it?”

But obedience doesn’t submit to metrics. It answers to alignment.

Mordecai Ham didn’t walk off that platform thinking, “Tonight, I just changed the trajectory of global evangelism.”

He likely walked off thinking,
“I did what I was asked to do.”

That’s it.

No applause from history.
No awareness of the ripple effect.

Just obedience.

The Terrifying Beauty of It All

This is where it gets uncomfortable.

Because if this is true, then it means:

You don’t get to know which moment matters most.

The conversation you almost avoided.
The decision you delayed.
The act of obedience that feels small, inconvenient, or even mistimed…

That might be the hinge.

Not the conference.
Not the platform.
Not the moment everyone affirms.

The quiet “yes.”

Obedience Writes in Ink You Can’t See Yet

We want guarantees.

God offers assignments.

We want clarity on outcomes.

God invites alignment in the present.

Mordecai Ham’s “yes” that night didn’t come with a preview of Billy Graham’s future.

It came with tension.
With uncertainty.
With the very real possibility that it would be just another difficult meeting.

But obedience doesn’t require foresight.
It requires surrender.

The Ripple You’ll Never Fully Know

Billy Graham would go on to preach to hundreds of millions.

Nations. Presidents. Stadiums filled beyond capacity.

But trace it back—and you don’t land in a stadium.

You land in a difficult meeting, led by a man who chose to keep going when it would have been easier to pull back.

That’s how the Kingdom moves.

Not always through the loudest moments—
but through the most faithful ones.

Final Thought

You may never know what hangs in the balance of your obedience.

And that’s the point.

If you needed to know, it wouldn’t be obedience—it would be strategy.

So you show up.
You say yes.
You preach, speak, move, build, respond—whatever He’s asked of you.

Not because it guarantees impact.

But because He said so.

And somewhere, sitting quietly in the crowd of your obedience,
is a ripple you won’t recognize…

until eternity tells the story.

That earlier version of me carried an untarnished hope, blissfully ignorant of the emotional toll that comes with loving deeply and suffering long. Failures were minimal, successes felt abundant, and that only fueled my unbridled enthusiasm.

Wrong? No.

Risky? Most definitely.

Success and Failure

Success is an optimist. Failure is a pessimist. Both are liars if left unchecked. At best, they only tell the parts of the story that serve their own interests. In that way, they’re a lot like people—selectively honest, a bit narcissistic, shaped by limited experience, and accountable to no one.

Until, that is, their perspectives slam into the brick wall of balance. To every truth there is an equal and opposite weight. Momentum skews perspective. It blurs the lines of reality when life moves too fast. From an airplane window at 20,000 feet traveling 250 mph, the landscape looks vastly different. It’s not a lie—it’s just not the full truth.

Delay is equally dishonest. Left unchecked, it convinces you that your current pace is the pace you’ll always move at. Both extremes are situational—dare I say, seasonal. Not always. Not never.

What matters most is what happens in you when you encounter either reality. Success and failure are seasonal, cyclical, or situational—they come and go over the course of a lifetime. You, however, are invited into “the process of process.” This process expands your perspective, deepens your experience, and aligns you with the bigger picture so that both success and failure occupy the right amount of space in your soul. Not too much. Not too little.

Fear and Failure

The relationship between fear and failure cannot be overstated. They form a dynamic duo with a simple but devastating strategy: they tie your performance to your emotions and your efficiency to your identity. If left unchecked, this duo creeps into the deepest parts of the human psyche.

The more I fail, the more I fear.

The more I fear, the more I fail.

A vicious cycle of self-fulfilling pessimistic prophecy takes hold.

In human relationships, unmet needs are usually the result of un-communicated expectations. If that’s true horizontally, it’s even more critical in your relationship with yourself. The internal narrative you tell yourself about yourself may be the most influential voice in your entire life.

Most people— the overwhelming majority—never pause to examine this voice or consider its impact on their inner world and, by extension, their perception of the outer world. The ability to name, frame, and process emotion in real time is a rare skill, and even fewer actively pursue it.

Emotional intelligence (EQ) precedes spiritual intelligence (SQ) and literally shapes how we process life through our intellect (IQ). Most of us live at the mercy of our emotions and humanity rather than learning to harmonize with them. Emotions aren’t cancers to be removed. They are experiences that inform our understanding of the world—and ourselves—both inside and out.

The Quicksand of Sadness

By now you might be wondering if the title is misleading or if I’ve gone off on a tangent. Let me bring it home to where I actually sit this Monday afternoon, sifting through thousands of thoughts and the feelings attached to them, on my ongoing quest for meaning, hope, and the intersection of eternity with my past, present, and future.

For me, the quicksand of sadness is my consistent tendency to get stuck in the trap of unfulfilled expectations. As I sit in this coffee shop writing these words, I can feel the knot in my throat and the sick sinking feeling in my stomach as I think of no fewer than three to five situations that utterly ravaged my soul—my mind, will, and emotions.

My memories refuse to leave. What others call a “photographic memory” often feels more like a curse than a blessing. It turns my own cognition and intellect into a worthy foe. Failure and fear have integrated themselves so subtly into my operating system that I’m knee-deep in quicksand before I even realize I’m sinking.

A place, a song, or a season is all it takes to send me slipping back into the despair of a distant chapter—one that manifests in the present faster than you can say “self-sabotage.” To be fair, it’s less a conscious choice and more a series of triggers that activate a subconscious protocol, hijacking my central nervous system.

But that’s exactly the point. The enemy wants to hijack my soul and use me for his purposes. We tend to think he’s looking for a dramatic, hostile takeover—drugs, sex, rock & roll. In reality, he often works through subtle, rhythmic taps on the subconscious until we find ourselves falling into the darkness of our own inner world.

Like the character Chris in the movie Get Out, we sink into our own “sunken place,” at the mercy of a foreign voice masquerading as our own.

This is a Warning:

Sabotage in Defeat

If I were to turn this into an emergency broadcast, it would sound something like this:

There is a demon named Sabotage who sits in the shadows of what never was. He waits. He watches. He positions himself for a single moment—a memory, a “failure” reminiscent of another season—that pulls you back into the pain of yesterday. Limited perspectives and outdated positions that are no longer real suddenly feel closer than ever.

The sting of lost loved ones, family members, business or ministry partners who vanished without warning—like a bad teenage breakup before you had the maturity to handle it. No closure. No context. Just gone. You’re left picking up the pieces of what could have been, what “should have been,” or at least what you thought was supposed to happen.

And just like that, you’re knee-deep and sinking fast in the lie of F.E.A.R.:

False

Evidence

Appearing

Real

My Traps

For me, it’s friends who left without warning—there one day, gone the next. No call, no text, no letter, no middle finger on the way out. Just a sudden void where presence used to be. They call it “ghosting” these days. I call it the sting of death.

It’s also ministry relationships—spiritual fathers, mothers, brothers, and sisters—who conveniently disappeared when I no longer served their purpose or fit their projected growth arc. People who used covenant and family language until the fine print of cost and pain showed up. Then it became clear: love wasn’t the bond. Opportunity and promotion were. I was their prophet when there was profit. As it turned out, they were pimps, and I was the one being prostituted.

Words are powerful. They create worlds of expectation. Whoever said “sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me” was either an idiot or a far better person than I am. Because years later, I still find myself replaying those words, questioning the heart behind them as they cling to my soul like a leech, slowly drawing life away.

Words have the power to bless and build—or curse and crush.

It’s also prophecy that hasn’t unfolded the way I saw it or understood it. It’s driving through places like Knoxville, Tennessee, and feeling the weight of what never was (or what is still yet to be). I’m not an expert right now—just a man at the mercy of God’s mercy, which is enough.

If I can accept the unacceptable and “return to the stronghold as a prisoner of hope” (Zechariah 9:12), as the Lord kindly corrected me a few months ago. I recently heard Corey Russell say on Taylor Welch’s Deep End podcast: “God will first awaken destiny, then kill it—completely disqualify you from it—and then resurrect His version of it through you when you feel least qualified.”

Sabotage in Victory

That same demon, Sabotage, also sits in the shadows of what is becoming. He waits. He watches. He positions himself for a breakthrough, a victory reminiscent of past seasons and fulfilled prophecies. The prophecy may be true, but your perspective was skewed. You misplaced expectations and stripped the moment of joy through faulty interpretation. Success feels hollow when filtered through soulish lenses that elevate carnality over spiritual formation.

The spoils of victory fall flat when you look to the left and right and realize the pioneer’s path is a narrow road. It’s in these moments that Sabotage whispers:

“Look at what obedience cost you.”

“Why don’t you quit?”

“Aren’t you tired of being alone?”

When resistance no longer works, he attacks through fatigue and weariness from battles both won and lost. Loneliness has claimed more prophets than popularity ever dreamed of.

To quote Corey Russell again (from The Gift of Tears): “Witchcraft gets in your eyes. It causes you to think you’ve never done anything for God, and that God has never done anything for you. It is here that God gives you the gift of tears to wash all the witchcraft from your eyes so you can see rightly again.”

Brokenness and contrition are the only remedy for success. They guard you from pride and drive you back into the shadow of the Almighty. Community can become an idol. Family can be fickle. It is here—only here—that we learn the secret of success is the Source. Sustainability is found only at the feet of Jesus, where the peace that surpasses understanding meets us with the good news: it’s not about us. Not performance. Not perfection. Only complete and utter dependence.

For me, the remedy for the quicksand of sadness is the strong and steady hand of Jesus. As He reaches for me, clarity returns. I can’t—He can. If I simply look up instead of staring at my unfortunate condition, I will find His provision and protection. His hand, planted through the beautiful feet of the gospel, is a firm enough foundation to lift me out of the miry clay and set my feet upon the rock.

Psalm 121

I will lift up my eyes to the hills—

From whence comes my help?

My help comes from the Lord,

Who made heaven and earth.

He will not allow your foot to be moved…

A Note from the Author

I share these examples not as a prophet, preacher, or spiritual advisor, but simply as a human being working out my salvation with fear and trembling in the presence of a God who refuses to leave me alone.

To be transparent, I experience frustration far more often than faith. I’m often more acquainted with resistance than revelation. I love the Lord deeply, and with that love comes a level of longsuffering I’ve known with no one else. The heights of the mountaintops are only rivaled by the depths of the valleys I’ve navigated by His grace.

His presence never departs, but my awareness constantly wavers.

I’m afraid, but I’m here.

I’m tired, but I’m trying.

I’m sad, but I’m not stuck.

Today, I choose to look up—not back, not forward.

Up.

Resurrection season carries with it a level of hope that is radically offensive, aggressively intrusive, and annoyingly persuasive. Finality carries with it a sense of relief and comfort, knowing that the contention of endurance has an end date. Like the searing of the nerves on an amputated limb, one can begin the process of a life lived absent from what you started with. They are as different as a wedding and a funeral—one celebrating the potential of covenant and a life lived in the direction of purpose and hope in the idea of unrealized potential, the other the closing of a book, the end of the story on what could have been, what might have been, or what should have been.

Weddings: The Promise of Covenant

If you were to follow me down the tracks of this illustration, I would continue: What if, at a wedding in the middle of the ceremony, when the preacher said, “Are there any who attest to the union of this man and woman?”—during that awkward, inevitable pause while everyone waits out of formality for optics—suddenly a loud objection came from a former lover, or even worse, a disgruntled family member? Imagine the intense embarrassment, the horror, and the collective awkwardness as the couple’s commencement of covenant is tainted by accusations and inference. How uncomfortable one might feel.

Funerals: The Finality of Closure

Let’s change the scene. Instead of a wedding, it is a funeral. The family has received the procession of friends, family members, and loved ones. The eulogy and cherished testimonies from family members are shared over the body of the deceased as those gathered aim to grieve a life now absent from the one they loved. Tears are flowing, and people are actively grieving as they entertain a life absent from the deceased.

Faith: The Shock of Expectation and Hope

Now imagine, in this atmosphere and setting, someone enters bold and indifferent, approaches the microphone, pauses for a moment, and makes the statement, “I’m going to raise _________ from the dead!” You can almost feel the oxygen leaving the room. Terror, anger, disgust, fear, and every imaginable collective trauma response one could fathom fill the hearts and minds of the people—all pointed at the individual who introduced the impossible.

This is the reality of resurrection power. It isn’t clean, kind, or socially acceptable. It’s disruptive at best, divisive in the most extreme cases. A line in the sand between passivity and power.

Catalysts: The Invitation into Resurrection Fellowship

This is literally a reality we are being invited into as the children of God—the fellowship of His sufferings and resurrection power:

“that I may know Him and the power of His resurrection, and the fellowship of His sufferings, being conformed to His death, if, by any means, I may attain to the resurrection from the dead.”

‭‭Philippians‬ ‭3:10-11‬ ‭NKJV‬‬

Consecration: Suffering That Produces Life

Suffering—when stewarded well—results in resurrection. God, that’s offensive! The idea that a process involving suffering, loss, death, pain, and destruction is both purifying and fruitful. Also, that our choice—an act of free will to trust—plays a vital role.

“though He was a Son, yet He learned obedience by the things which He suffered. And having been perfected, He became the author of eternal salvation to all who obey Him.”

‭‭Hebrews‬ ‭5:8-9‬ ‭NKJV‬‬

“My brethren, count it all joy when you fall into various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces patience. But let patience have its perfect work, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking nothing. If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask of God, who gives to all liberally and without reproach, and it will be given to him. But let him ask in faith, with no doubting, for he who doubts is like a wave of the sea driven and tossed by the wind. For let not that man suppose that he will receive anything from the Lord; he is a double-minded man, unstable in all his ways.”

‭‭James‬ ‭1:2-8‬ ‭NKJV‬‬

The pendulum between duality and the mind of Christ swings on the choice to believe the impossible and hope against hope. Our identity must be in the finished work of the Cross—through Christ—not in our own experience or understanding.

Identity: From Belief to Bold Action

Identity in its fullest form results in activity. Some might say faith produces works. No works, no faith. Faith is the substance of things hoped for and the evidence of things not seen (Hebrews 11:1). A visible byproduct of an invisible world. The very reality that Jesus is alive is the hinge on which the gospel swings. Ironically, we focus more on the cross than the empty tomb and ascension.

We love a dead Jesus—we wrestle with a living Lord.

If we walk with a resurrected Savior, we grow less impressed with His wounds and more impressed with His ways.

His ways transcend His wounds, and His words are the windows to His world—a world we are not only invited to visit but to inhabit. Death must lose its sting, but that will never happen when we run from it. We must run through it. Rather than finality, we must view it as a finishing. The “It is finished” of Jesus must connect to the “As you go.”

“So when Jesus had received the sour wine, He said, ‘It is finished!’ And bowing His head, He gave up His spirit.”

John 19:30 NKJV

“Heal the sick, cleanse the lepers, raise the dead, cast out demons. Freely you have received, freely give.”

Matthew 10:8 NKJV

What Could Have Been vs. What Will Never Be

The trouble is almost always in our desire to have the final word or last say. Unfortunately, that just isn’t the way it works. You are not the author and finisher of your faith (you don’t have that authority). He is. Yielding to hope in the despair and necessity of resurrection is currency in a kingdom that transcends this realm. A choice to trust Him at His Word is the only thing that can shift you from the sting of death to the realm of resurrection and miracles.

Step Into the Discomfort: An Invitation to Resurrection

Today, I invite you to lean intentionally into the discomfort surrounding death, finality, and grief—whether it appears in the quiet endings of relationships, the loss of dreams, the death of long-held expectations, or the tangible grief that still lingers in your heart. Do not rush to seal the chapter or anesthetize the pain. Instead, stand boldly in the tension and welcome the disruptive, offensive hope of resurrection power. Allow it to move spiritually, physically, and emotionally in every area where you have accepted closure. Surrender the final word to the One who is the Author and Finisher of your faith. As you do, watch Him breathe life into what you believed was forever lost, transforming your mourning into a testimony of His living power.

A Note from the Author

I am confronted personally, time and again, with the consistent and powerful character of Christ—turning my darkness into light, graves into gardens, and hopelessness into dreams fulfilled. Through experience I have learned that death is literally the doorway to resurrection life.

I do not believe we carry authentic authority to walk in resurrection power until we have stood obstinately in the face of death, decay, and loss.

The enemy is a thief—that is true. But God is a good Father, and His nature utterly and thoroughly trumps anything the enemy attempts to throw in our direction. Jesus said, “I did not come to bring peace. I came to bring a sword.” The longer I walk with Him, the more convinced I become that this sword is His Word that cannot fail—severing the ties of hopelessness and freeing us from the bondage of death and the grave.

“Dishonest scales are an abomination to the Lord, But a just weight is His delight.”
Proverbs 11:1 (NKJV)

I recognize the irony of these words as I write this from the Williamson County Courthouse in Franklin, Tennessee, watching my oldest daughter deliver her first mock trial presentation.

Accusations.
Defense.
Testimony.
Evidence—admissible and inadmissible.
Plausible deniability.

The alleged crimes lie in the past. The consequences still hang in the balance.

It is surreal. Emotions ricochet between indifference and rage, sadness and anxiety, suspicion and suspense. We rarely examine systems, processes, and protocols until they buckle under pressure—or until it is too late to repair them.

If the Courts of Heaven were now in session, I fear many fivefold leaders across the earth—apostles, prophets, pastors, teachers, and evangelists—would stand in the dock.

The Accuser would press:
How did you build?
By what authority did you function?
On what foundation did you move?

Too many defenses, I suspect, would rest on ability, pedigree, and performance—a résumé rather than a Redeemer, metrics rather than the blood and body of Christ.

Carnal defense. Human protection mechanisms.

Yet if they would simply confess their weakness and plead the blood of Jesus, they would walk free.

“My brethren, let not many of you become teachers, knowing that we shall receive a stricter judgment.”
James 3:1 (NKJV)

How Institutional Failure Is Reshaping Faith in the West

“Who’s at fault?” is rarely the most fruitful question.

A better one is: Where do the fault lines lie?

Blaming isolated individuals while shielding councils, communities, and systems is almost always destructive. In far too many corners of the Western church, the Fear of the Lord has quietly been exchanged for public relations, damage control, and image management.

It is time—past time—to examine these fault lines with humility and courage. God has already embedded safeguards in Scripture to prevent the very destruction we are witnessing.

Let’s define our terms clearly.

Fault (noun)

1. A defect or imperfection in structure, character, design, or performance; a weakness that diminishes effectiveness or value.

2. Responsibility for an error, mistake, or wrongdoing; accountability for a failure or misstep.

3. A break, fracture, or discontinuity in a surface or system that disrupts normal alignment or function.

4. (Geology) A fracture in the Earth’s crust along which movement has occurred; a structural break where tectonic forces shift rock and reshape landscapes, often producing earthquakes.

Fault (verb)

1. To hold responsible; to assign blame or accountability.

2. To criticize for a perceived flaw or shortcoming.

The spiritual and political climate in the West is saturated with accusation, exposure, compromise, and collapse. This reality forces an urgent question:

Could most of these situations have been avoided?

My conviction: Approximately 85 percent could have been—if elders, boards, and councils had simply held pastors and apostolic leaders to the clear, repeated standards of Scripture.

Not harsh, unrealistic expectations.
Not oppressive micromanagement.
Not meticulous overreach.

Just the basic, biblical standards.

Too often, serious offenses—from sexual abuse and misconduct to financial misappropriation and spiritual abuse—were reported. They were raised. Raised again. Sometimes raised a third time—only to meet deaf ears, indifference, or a calculated dismissal of the authority of God’s Word.

“He who covers his sins will not prosper, But whoever confesses and forsakes them will have mercy.”
Proverbs 28:13 (NKJV)

Examining the Foundation—and the Fault Lines

We must look beneath the rubble and ask: What was the actual foundation?

In many cases, it is not merely a weak foundation. The entire structure was built on sand—or worse, directly atop an active fault line.

“Therefore whoever hears these sayings of Mine, and does them, I will liken him to a wise man who built his house on the rock: and the rain descended, the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house; and it did not fall, for it was founded on the rock. But everyone who hears these sayings of Mine, and does not do them, will be like a foolish man who built his house on the sand: and the rain descended, the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house; and it fell. And great was its fall.”
Matthew 7:24–27 (NKJV)

The difference between a faulty foundation and a fault line is depth.

Building on sand often stems from ignorance and immaturity.

Building on fault lines is the fruit of prolonged disobedience and willful negligence. It places every soul under your covering at risk—for the sake of numbers, momentum, or personal empire.

Compromise never charges full price upfront. It always collects with compound interest on the back end.

The difference between transgression and iniquity is awareness and intent. Once awareness arrives, responsibility is non-negotiable—because in the Spirit, responsibility and authority are inseparably linked.

We are living in an era where some leaders have defiantly refused accountability while quietly surrendering heaven’s authority, trading the seal of God for controllable, manufactured systems.

This shaking is not random weather exposing shifting sand. It is a sovereign, seismic uncovering of buried trauma and long-concealed brokenness.

“For thus says the Lord of hosts: ‘Once more (it is a little while) I will shake heaven and earth, the sea and dry land; and I will shake all nations…’”
Haggai 2:6–7 (NKJV)

Who Watches the Watchmen?

No leader is infallible. Not one always tells the whole truth. Not one lives perfectly “worthy” of the anointing they carry. That is not reality; it is fantasy.

Integrity is a daily choice. Many embrace it. Others rest on gifting without repentance, preferring the thrill of function over the fruit of intimacy and the Fear of the Lord.

When we hope for the best without building safeguards against compromise, we guarantee eventual failure. Wisdom plans for the worst while praying for the best.

The root fault in most modern ministry failures is the pernicious lie that an anointed man or woman is somehow exempt from the standards required of every believer in the body of Christ. These standards are not heroic gestures. They are small, consistent, daily traits of character.

Leadership attracts pressure. Pressure always reveals weakness. The problem is not the weakness—it is when weakness is denied, excused, or covered rather than confessed and addressed.

The most dangerous leaders are not those who struggle. They are those who resist feedback, reject accountability, and construct elaborate systems of self-protection to preserve an illusion of perfection.

In cultures shaped by compromise, you will rarely hear a robust theology of accountability. Instead, you will hear endless messages about submission, honor, and loyalty—allegiance elevated above a clear conscience, compliance above discernment.

Discernment dies at the speed of compromise.

This spirit reproduces. It spreads by contact, infecting everyone it touches.

The launch of Samuel’s prophetic ministry—his bold rebuke of Eli concerning the gross sins of Hophni and Phinehas—is not a curious exception. It is the biblical pattern (1 Samuel 2–3 NKJV). Prophets serve as a divine safety mechanism for gifted leaders who drift into delusion or deception. They are not enemies; they are gifts. Gifted people who exchange identity for function eventually collapse.

Saul stands as another haunting warning. Capable, anointed, favored—yet consumed by jealousy and insecurity until he forfeited everything.

“For rebellion is as the sin of witchcraft, And stubbornness is as iniquity and idolatry. Because you have rejected the word of the Lord, He also has rejected you from being king.”
1 Samuel 15:23 (NKJV)

“Touch not God’s anointed” became the convenient shield. Yet a teenage Samuel rebuked the high priest, and heaven honored it.

In the New Covenant, Peter confronted Ananias and Sapphira for lying to the Holy Spirit (Acts 5:1–11). Immediate judgment fell. The Fear of the Lord gripped the church. And God was glorified.

Woe to the shepherds of Israel who feed themselves! Should not the shepherds feed the flocks?
Ezekiel 34:2 (NKJV)

The Lord continues in that chapter with devastating clarity: the weak were not strengthened, the sick not healed, the scattered not gathered. The shepherds ruled with force and cruelty. God declared, “I am against the shepherds.”

If dishonest scales are an abomination to the Lord, then justice must begin in His house.

“For the time has come for judgment to begin at the house of God; and if it begins with us first, what will be the end of those who do not obey the gospel of God?”
1 Peter 4:17 (NKJV)

As Leonard Ravenhill cried out, “Judgement must begin in the House of God. Judgement must begin with the preachers.”

The answer is neither cynicism nor blind allegiance. It is repentance. Recalibration. A return to just weights and honest scales.

It is leaders who tremble at His Word more than they guard their platforms. Councils that value integrity over image and truth over tenure.

The shaking we are witnessing is not divine cruelty. It is mercy in earthquake form—exposing fault lines before total collapse.

“If the Holy Spirit was withdrawn from the church today, 95 percent of what we do would go on and no one would know the difference.”
—A.W. Tozer

The question is not whether accountability is coming. It is.

The only question that remains is this: Will we voluntarily submit to it now—allowing everything that can be shaken to fall—so that only what cannot be shaken will remain?

The Church does not need better branding.
She needs broken, honest, trembling leadership that fears God more than fallout.

Let the shaking come.
Let the fault lines be exposed.
Let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.

Because in the end, only the unshakable will stand.

Definition:
The feeling of disorientation experienced by someone who is suddenly subjected to an unfamiliar culture, way of life, or set of attitudes.

Perspective is a powerful thing. Awareness is just as powerful—and far less common. What is often ignored is this: perspective is shaped by position. And for most of us, position is temporary at best—always in flux, continually evolving as we expand to meet the demands of our environment.

Awareness grows at the rate of change, increasing as we expose ourselves to the ever-expanding horizon of transformation.

Cultural Collapse

Culture, more often than not, begins as a snapshot of the lives and values of the leaders who are building and enforcing their respective domains. As it grows, it becomes collective. It is not rigid or dogmatic—it breathes, grows, expands, and contracts over time.

Because it is collective, it is subjective at best—open to interpretation as observation weighs the fruit of its philosophy and ideology.

In science and medicine, culture refers to the growth of microorganisms (bacteria, yeast) or cells in a lab from a patient sample—blood, urine, tissue—in order to diagnose infection or study disease. In other words, if I want to understand what is happening from a health perspective, scientifically, I take a sample and examine its DNA. Strengths, weaknesses, resilience, and deficiencies all tell the truth about the microscopic realities unfolding internally.

This, my friends, is what we are experiencing on a very public level in the global Church, as the Lord weighs the thoughts and intents of His people.

The difference is this: most patients have the luxury of their personal affairs being examined in the privacy of a medical practice or doctor’s office.

The irony of virality is not lost on me.

With information traveling faster than a pandemic or plague, the compromised immune system of the children of God has reached epidemic proportions. It is not isolated—it simply manifests differently in different bodies.

Hypocrisy & Hyperbole

“In the meantime, when an innumerable multitude of people had gathered together, so that they trampled one another, He began to say to His disciples first of all, ‘Beware of the leaven of the Pharisees, which is hypocrisy. For there is nothing covered that will not be revealed, nor hidden that will not be known. Therefore whatever you have spoken in the dark will be heard in the light, and what you have spoken in the ear in inner rooms will be proclaimed on the housetops.’”
—Luke 12:1–3 (NKJV)

The problem with gifting is that it comes with no strings attached. The gifts are good because God is good—not because you are good. They are in no way a reflection of character or integrity. They are sign gifts, given to reinforce the nature of grace.

Charismata (plural of the Greek charisma, “gift of grace”) are divine, unearned enabling gifts bestowed by the Holy Spirit upon believers to build up the Church and carry out its mission. These spiritual gifts—prophecy, teaching, healing, service—are not personal achievements, but tools for diakonia. They are meant to manifest God’s grace and glory, not personal glorification.

James 1:16–17
Do not be deceived, my beloved brethren. Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and comes down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow of turning.

Romans 11:29
For the gifts and the calling of God are irrevocable.

The moment a gifted person fails, the meta-mob—without hesitation—begins to examine the gifts, critique the gifts, and question their validity, as if they themselves have anything of value to offer. Click-bait reaction videos, exposure hit pieces, and full-blown documentaries rivaling the time investment of a binge-worthy Netflix series—all in the name of “discernment” and “reform.”

Heresy hunters once occupied this space. I fear it has now infiltrated Spirit-filled, Pentecostal, and charismatic ranks in the form of exposure and cancel culture—wolves in sheep’s clothing, preaching doctrines of demons: unforgivable sins, unreconcilable offenses, doctrines of works, and rigid protocols designed to ensure no one is harmed by freedom. In doing so, they damn their detractors to lives of exile—void of the power of the gospel and the blood of Jesus that alone redeems the most broken places.

The proposition that humanity can—or should—live without flaws and by its own strength is preposterous, idolatrous, and insidious. You can almost hear the hiss of the serpent on the tongues of his messengers as grace is replaced with works, whispering, “Did He really say that?”

Romans 3:10–20
“There is none righteous, no, not one;
There is none who understands;
There is none who seeks after God.
They have all turned aside;
They have together become unprofitable;
There is none who does good, no, not one.”

“Their throat is an open tomb;
With their tongues they have practiced deceit”;
“The poison of asps is under their lips”;
“Whose mouth is full of cursing and bitterness.”

“Their feet are swift to shed blood;
Destruction and misery are in their ways;
And the way of peace they have not known.”

“There is no fear of God before their eyes.”

Now we know that whatever the law says, it says to those who are under the law, that every mouth may be stopped, and all the world may become guilty before God. Therefore by the deeds of the law no flesh will be justified in His sight, for by the law is the knowledge of sin.

Legalism has not changed—and neither has licentiousness. They choose their own way for very different reasons.

Legalism builds fortified walls to protect itself and others. Often rooted in brokenness—unaddressed trauma and unhealed wounds—it fears the incalculable variables of another person’s free will. The potential pitfalls of freedom are enough to send a legalist into a spiral of endless rules and regulations. Safety becomes the ultimate end. I cannot be safe if I cannot control.

Licentiousness, on the other hand, exists to fulfill its own desires and meet its own needs, believing the same lie: No one will provide for me if I do not provide for myself. Not God. Not others. Systems and structures have failed to factor me in, and therefore cannot be trusted. If I do not meet my own needs, they will not be met. I cannot be safe if I cannot control.

See what I did there?

They are two sides of the same useless coin—a currency with no weight in God’s economy, for without faith it is impossible to please Him. At best, they are self-protection and self-provision mechanisms. At worst, they are diabolical doctrines of demons in their most advanced stages.

God’s plan is both accessible and offensive to both parties. He is not on the side of either.
He stands on His Father’s business.

The leaven of the Pharisees is pride—pride in laws, protocols, and performance. The truth is that God holds all to account and is fully sufficient to do so. We overstep when we sit in the seat of judge rather than advocates and ministers of reconciliation.

Romans 3:21–24
But now the righteousness of God apart from the law is revealed, being witnessed by the Law and the Prophets, even the righteousness of God, through faith in Jesus Christ, to all and on all who believe. For there is no difference; for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, being justified freely by His grace through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus.

Pastoral Prostitution

Confusion is fueled by ignorance, arrogance, and negligence in pulpits far and wide. Saints abroad are perishing for lack of knowledge (see Hosea 4:6). Sheep without shepherds are running astray and falling away in droves. Wolves wreak havoc because shepherds won’t lay their lives down—for one reason or another.

Pastoral ministry (sheep husbandry—the raising and care of sheep) is taking a backseat to pastoral industry (the economy and industry tied to the sale of sheep and the resources connected to them: wool supply chain → shepherd → shearer → broker → mill → market → money).
They don’t love the sheep—they love what the sheep provide them with.

John 21:15–17 (NKJV)

So when they had eaten breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter,
“Simon, son of Jonah, do you love Me more than these?”

He said to Him, “Yes, Lord; You know that I love You.”
He said to him, “Feed My lambs.”

He said to him again a second time,
“Simon, son of Jonah, do you love Me?”

He said to Him, “Yes, Lord; You know that I love You.”
He said to him, “Tend My sheep.”

He said to him the third time,
“Simon, son of Jonah, do you love Me?”

Peter was grieved because He said to him the third time, “Do you love Me?”
And he said to Him, “Lord, You know all things; You know that I love You.”
Jesus said to him, “Feed My sheep.”

Who is feeding the sheep?
What are they feeding the sheep?

These are essential questions—alongside the practice of checking in on the health of the sheep to assess their overall condition and state of being. This is a reliable way to gauge both the love of leaders and the state of their congregations.

Jesus Himself said, “Greater love has no one than this, than to lay down one’s life for his friends. You are My friends if you do whatever I command you.”

It’s really quite simple: the friends of God do His bidding. They carry His nature and His heart.

If you’re concerned about the safety of a flock or congregation, inspect the fruit. If you find love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, gentleness, goodness, faithfulness, and self-control, the Spirit is near. It is literally impossible to abide in those attributes apart from the active work of the Spirit in one’s midst.

Gifts are a dime a dozen—presence is priceless. If you can’t tell the difference, that’s on you.

Worldly-minded people seem determined to make things more complicated. It’s as if the more information we have, the less intelligent we become. The truth is this: obedience is greater than sacrifice, and rebellion is as the sin of witchcraft.

I’m not interested in what you’ve done for the Lord. I’m interested in what He has done—and what He is doing—in you. Yesterday’s exploits have expired, and today’s invitation remains:

“Have you taken up your cross?”

Will you feed the sheep,
or are the sheep feeding you?

Public Statements & Plausible Deniability

Accountability quite literally means giving an account for your ability. Because I can, I therefore should give an account for the gifts, abilities, and influence entrusted to my life. This posture is rooted almost entirely in humility.

No one is going to make you do this—you have to choose it. The uncomfortable reality of free will is that choice becomes the foundation of the life you build. Given the options, you can make healthy choices or unhealthy ones. You can sow good seeds or bad seeds. You can produce good fruit or bad fruit—and so on and so forth.

In an age of rapidly growing movements, ministries, and global media platforms, growth often outpaces the foundations required to sustain it. You could say some are more anointed, more educated, more favored—or simply more visible—than they are mature. Regardless of the reason, the challenge remains the same: most people who find themselves in these positions never imagined they would be here.

We are often either launched or limited by our view of ourselves. Productivity flows from identity—at least it’s supposed to. When identity is not firmly rooted in Christ, everything that flows from a life becomes distorted. Good gifts can turn into curses faster than you can say identity crisis.

When we elevate leaders to unhealthy and unholy places, we remove their humanity. In doing so, we heap unrealistic expectations on them—expectations no one could meet in any scenario. When leaders become idols, the Lord will cut them down. They are guides to be honored, not gods to be worshiped.

Our degree of disappointment in their actions—or lack thereof—often says far more about us than it does about them.

Are there standards? Absolutely.
Are there protocols and procedures for those in authority? Without question.
Will they meet all of them perfectly? No—and that’s kind of the point.

The perfect law of liberty looks like submitting to one another in love. It is not performance, perfection, or some divine debt-keeping system.

Scripture is clear:

Romans 13:8
Owe no one anything except to love one another, for he who loves another has fulfilled the law.

The New Testament goes on to warn us what happens when love erodes:

Matthew 24:10–13
And then many will be offended, will betray one another, and will hate one another. Then many false prophets will rise up and deceive many. And because lawlessness will abound, the love of many will grow cold. But he who endures to the end shall be saved.

Offense, betrayal, and hatred are the byproducts of unrealistic expectations—idolatry and entitlement working together. Pride is the root of them all.

Love, by contrast, tells a different story:

1 Corinthians 13:4–7
Love suffers long and is kind; love does not envy; love does not parade itself, is not puffed up; does not behave rudely, does not seek its own, is not provoked, thinks no evil; does not rejoice in iniquity, but rejoices in the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

Many of the things we are doing in the name of God are simply not Him—they are something else entirely.

We have exchanged the inner witness of the Holy Spirit for self-righteous indignation. We have traded transformation for information we call “truth,” though it sets no one free. And we have developed a thirst for blood—just not the blood of Jesus.

Enduring to the end is not about who exposes best, but who loves unto death.

“Greater love has no one than this, than to lay down one’s life for his friends.”
That’s what Jesus said—and it’s also what He did.

He was not on a witch hunt. He was not obsessed with exposing hypocrites or idolaters. He loved them. He covered them. He lived alongside them in their painfully messy lives. It’s almost as if He chose the least likely people on purpose.

Remember when He rebuked the Pharisees, saying:

Matthew 9:12–13
“Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. … For I did not come to call the righteous, but sinners, to repentance.”

Jesus didn’t issue public statements to protect His image. He was quiet. When accused, He remained silent and went like a lamb to the slaughter (Isaiah 53:7). He was innocent—don’t forget that part. He covered the guilty and exposed His own innocence. Wild.

Modern ministry models have all but eliminated true accountability and the intimacy of walking together in community. We protect. We separate. We calculate. We demand ROI—What am I getting out of this? NDAs follow (the height of legalism), distance ensues, and a culture of self-protection trickles down from the top.

In a world where no one lays down their life, collateral damage is inevitable as everyone pursues their own interests.

Confession is labeled dangerous. Protection is called wisdom. And fake people build fake things—producing plastic images of pretty, dead things.

We adopt language like “victims” and “abusers” while laying bricks in the very place where Jesus tore down the middle wall of separation (Ephesians 2:14). It’s ugly. It’s exhausting. And it’s lifeless.

“I’m sorry” is still an option.
“I messed up” is not a death sentence—or a life sentence, for that matter.

As long as we build empires that make no room for failure, transparency, process, restoration, or humanity, we will continue to see exactly what we are seeing.

The hard truth is this: many who demand accountability refuse to submit to it themselves. Those who labor to create cultures of honesty and transparency often do so at great spiritual, relational, and even legal cost—costs most will never understand.

We demand transparency, then crucify the transparent.
We cry out for holiness and righteousness—with blood on our hands and bitterness in our hearts.

If we were half as diligent at identifying compromise in our own lives as we are in the lives of others, the world might already be turned upside down by the presence and glory of God.

Instead, we deflect. We redirect. We point fingers—because we’re terrified of being seen for who we really are:
Sinners in need of a Savior.
Children in need of a Father.
Orphans in need of a family.

The deep, guttural cry of my heart is this:

“Fall on the Rock, lest the Rock fall on you.”
(cf. Matthew 21:44)

Lay your life down.
Suffer long.
Wrestle with God through the mystery and tragedy of humanity.
Embrace grace.
Reject pride.
Seek and save the lost.
Love and intercede for the elect.
And remove the plank from your own eye.

That Witch Jezebel and the Whore Delilah

She hasn’t changed. She’s the same—leveraging the authority of those ordained by God through manipulation, fear, accusation, and intimidation. Do not give her your voice in this hour.

She is more enticing than you realize, more deceptive than you give her credit for, and highly effective at moving you from your assignment to her purposes. Do not partner with her.

She will blind you with the strong drink of righteous indignation. She will seduce you with a mission to unseat those God has placed in authority. And she will shave you bald while you rest, unaware—lulled into the false security of a distorted identity she has whispered into your ear, feeding your pride and ego.

She wants your power. She will get you to break covenant. And she will sell you out.

When they come to take you away after she has sold you out, you will go to do what you have always done—only to realize the Spirit of God has left you, along with your strength.

See Samson for an example.
See 1 Kings 21:23–24 for Jezebel’s fate.

Refuse to bow to the demands of the mob empowered by these spirits. Do not surrender your authority to her intentions. The fastest way to come under condemnation is to agree with false accusations—thereby empowering her narrative.

Stay in your lane. Don’t believe every accusation. Test the spirits. Cling to the Lord.

The secret to living in freedom is this:

Psalm 19:9–10
The fear of the Lord is clean, enduring forever;
The judgments of the Lord are true and righteous altogether.
More to be desired are they than gold,
Yea, than much fine gold;
Sweeter also than honey and the honeycomb.

This is the pattern:

1. Accusation

2. Intimidation

3. Slander

The answer—the strategy:

1 Peter 5:6–8
Therefore humble yourselves under the mighty hand of God, that He may exalt you in due time, casting all your care upon Him, for He cares for you.
Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil walks about like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour.

Author’s Note

I write this from a place of brokenness, sobriety, and the fear of the Lord. I view the issues of this hour as systemic—not isolated. I am not pointing fingers; I am examining myself.

What part have I personally played in my own suffering? And what part have I contributed to the greater Body of Christ?

This is not a singular problem belonging to one denomination or theological disposition. It is a global issue, being dealt with publicly by a holy God who will not allow Himself to be misrepresented forever.

I grow weary of self-righteous indignation and the moral filth of licentiousness—both rooted in the same pride that assumes God is not involved.

Truth does not need mobs to defend it—only sons and daughters willing to obey.

January 16, 2026

“We draw lines. God draws circles.”

Deadlines. Timelines. Lifelines.

Starting lines. Finish lines 🏁

I think you get the point.

God draws circles.

He moves in cycles, seasons, and revolutions. He is the same yesterday, today, and forever (Hebrews 13:8). We love definition—He loves process. We want to finish—He wants us to be faithful. Too often our goals are worlds apart, our processes radically different, and our results an entirely different subject.

A Holy “Circle Back”

It’s a full circle season—and ironically, as we “circle back,” there’s something both holy and heavy in those words.

This morning in prayer, my family and I were talking about full-circle seasons and some significant words from ten years ago. At the same time, there’s a trend on Instagram encouraging people to post their lives from 2016—pictures, memories, moments.

Ironically, I believe this is a prophetic signpost in the natural pointing to a spiritual reality that is accessible right now.

Ten-year seeds are blooming!

As we circle back at the head of the year, we’re being invited to revisit our foundations—and how we got here in the first place.

Pruning, Perspective, and Purification

It is often on the other side of painful pruning that we develop a purified perspective of our prophetic process.

A right revelation of what Christ is actually after in our lives.

Once ambition is beaten out of us, we can finally move forward with a level of purity and consecration that simply wasn’t there before. It’s a strange thing how a forceful removal of occupation increases capacity.

God wants us to be filled—but not filled with anything.

He wants us filled with His Spirit.

Eventually, this requires us to be emptied of things He once asked us to fill our lives with. That’s the challenge. He’s a good Father who gives good gifts—gifts so good we often hold on so tightly that we forget He is the reason they are good.

His hand reflects His nature.

When our spirit is more informed by lack and loss than by connection and communion with the Godhead, we begin to believe that the way it was is as good as it will ever be.

But the reality is this:

We are living a life in the Spirit that moves from grace to grace and from glory to glory (2 Corinthians 3:18).

Pruning Is Not Finality

If we’re not careful, pruning, sifting, and trials by fire can cause us to believe the goal is reduction—that we are meant to be trimmed back, diminished, or left as ashes.

But pruning is unto greater fruitfulness (John 15:2).

Reduction is unto multiplication.

Ashes are required to make something beautiful (Isaiah 61:3).

In this life of faith, the lesson is greater than the loss, and the principles are just as important as the promises connected to our prophetic destiny.

Resurrection power is accessed through the fellowship of His sufferings.

“…that I may know Him and the power of His resurrection, and the fellowship of His sufferings, being conformed to His death.”

— Philippians 3:10 (NKJV)

A philosophy of finality is a philosophy uninformed by the life-giving power of the Spirit.

A philosophy of abundance, prosperity, and impossible miracles is a life joined to the Spirit—one that transcends intellect, natural law, and business as usual.

Presence Over Performance

If we make the common mistake of growing weary in well-doing (Galatians 6:9), we can easily fall into performance and get lost in the trappings of maintaining day-to-day life.

We begin pursuing metrics instead of Presence.

But the Presence makes everything better.

We must experience His Presence in every season to see the redemption of our stories in real time.

Without loss, we would not understand the weight of blessing.

Without failure, we would not value mercy, grace, and compassion.

Without success, we would not know gratitude.

Contrast is a teacher.

A Ten-Year Bloom 🌱

I believe that as we revisit old prophetic words, promises, and even dreams planted deep within us—circa 2016—we will be radically encouraged.

This is a full-circle season.

A ten-year bloom.

What was planted in the soil of our lives a decade ago is beginning to break forth now. It will feel sudden—like breakthrough—but in reality, it’s been a long time coming.

“I planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the increase.”

— 1 Corinthians 3:6 (NKJV)

The last five years have carried a sting—loss, grief, even the aroma of death. For some, remembrance itself has felt painful, stirring old wounds.

But I hear the invitation of the Spirit clearly:

Circle back.

Look again.

Revisit the planting of the Lord.

Seeing Providence Clearly

There is a supernatural hope in the atmosphere as we look again and see the providence of God in our meandering path.

Our perspective has shifted—from selfish ambition to holy consecration.

Instead of asking “What is He doing for me?”

We are finally asking “What is He doing in me?”

And as a result, we begin to see what He has done around us—cultivating an environment capable of holding promises much bigger than we ever realized.

These promises are not just about us.

There are movements, communities, and mechanisms being birthed right now—carriers of the glory of the Lord in ways we don’t yet have language for.

Jesus always said, “The kingdom is like…”

He never pinned it down—He invited comparison.

Likewise, when the prophets of old encountered God, their descriptions were poetic, suggestive, and symbolic. They were trying to wrap human language around spiritual dynamics.

That tension is where we live today.

We struggle to paint heavenly realities with a limited palette. In our attempt to sound confident, we often err on the side of ignorance—placing people in bondage to our vocabulary instead of allowing the breath of the Spirit to meet the honest fumbling of humanity.

We add terms and conditions where the Lord never did.

This is counterproductive—and rooted in pride.

And the Lord is cutting it down.

Conclusion: A Times & Seasons Perspective ⏳

As a Times and Seasons prophet—

(see the sons of Issachar: “men who had understanding of the times, to know what Israel ought to do” — 1 Chronicles 12:32)

—after navigating prophetic tension for over twenty years, I am deeply stirred.

I am moved by the process the Lord has walked me through—one that produced perspective, maturity, and clarity through brokenness, contrition, and the fear of the Lord.

A process that removed ambition and replaced it with intentionality.

That stripped pride and infused humility.

That brought painful—but holy—clarity to purpose.

I want to challenge you: revisit the words from ten years ago.

I openly believe the 2016 Instagram trend is one of many signposts of creation groaning for the revelation of the sons and daughters of God (Romans 8:19).

There is a collective story—and a collective glory—being woven through your life.

It looks like redemption.

Reconciliation.

Revival.

Dead things will snap back to life.

Sleeping things will awaken.

Hope deferred will be healed (Proverbs 13:12).

Revival is not coming—it’s here.

Don’t miss what God is doing now.

Be encouraged.

Author’s Note

If I were prophesying, I would say this: make room intentionally for what you say you believe for.

If I were exhorting from a pulpit, I would point you to the widow in the Old Testament and say:

Go get every vessel you can.

Prepare for the oil.

If I were sitting with you pastorally, I would say:

Repent of offense.

Repent of unbelief.

Repent of hopelessness.

Renounce every agreement—spoken or unspoken—with anything contrary to what the Lord has promised you.

Friends, it’s time to stand up.

Dust yourself off.

And step into what is already in motion.

Simply yield to the purposes of God.

A Life Measured in Christmases

In about 12 hours, I will have 39 Christmases under my belt… Oh, how things have changed.

I’m a father now and a husband (father for 14 years & husband for 17), and the experience has drastically transformed over the years. As I sit and reminisce, experiences flood my heart and mind - good, bad, happy, sad.

I’ve experienced unbearable grief, crippling anxiety, overwhelming disappointment, even suicidal ideation. On the contrary, I also carry core memories of inexpressible joy, happiness, and beautiful experiences burned into my consciousness over the years. The bitter and the sweet, the tragic and the epic, are all interwoven into the mosaic that is my collective Christmas history.

There are people I miss so deeply my bones ache and my gut wrenches with anguish. At the same time, there are moments unfolding that rival the greatest joy and celebration I have experienced thus far.

As I survey the landscape of Christmas present - I get it. I understand why people hate the holidays… and I understand why they love them. It’s a double-sided coin, a double-edged sword, or whatever the appropriate colloquial expression is.

I’m not writing this to judge or prescribe a solution to a perceived problem - a problem that isn’t really a problem at all. It’s an experience. An unavoidable, deeply personal, painfully purifying experience that quietly shapes you into who you were always destined to be.

The Road Toward Christmas

The road toward Christmas is paved with unexpected left turns, meandering scenic routes, and pit stops in some really unsightly environments along the way. Those stops, while necessary, do not constitute the destination - or even the totality of the journey.

There are moments that require presence. If they are ignored, buried, or rushed through, they will prove to be formidable opponents to your will - ultimately breaking it under the weight of your expectations and the present reality of your situation.

Turn on the radio, the TV, or scroll your newsfeed, and you’ll be given a steady diet of unrealistic expectations that inevitably fuel disappointment. Call it a love-hate relationship - or, for the trauma-informed, a psychodrama of your life - sure to stir visceral emotion in a body that keeps score and a soul swinging between life and death.

Melancholy and Memory

As I age, melancholy is an experience I find myself smack dab in the middle of more often than not.

In an interview with OWN (Oprah Winfrey Network), Billy Bob Thornton, reflecting on the sudden death of his brother, said:

“When my brother died, I’ve never trusted happiness since…”

“There’s a melancholy in me that never goes away. I’m 50% happy and 50% sad at any given moment. And the only advice I can give people when you lose someone like that is—you won’t ever get over it. The sooner you embrace that, the better off you are.”

Weakness I Didn’t Start With

I am not depressed, though I’ve had my battles with that. I’m not hopeless, though I’m not a stranger to the feeling that accompanies hopelessness. And I am not bitter - though I know well the taste it leaves in your mouth and the pit it creates in your stomach.

I’m just a man walking toward what I believe is my purpose.

Around me are people I love, people I tolerate, and people I wrestle with extending the same kindness Christ extended to me.

My teens and twenties were marked by passion, zeal, and the feeling of being ten feet tall and bulletproof. But in my late thirties - nearing forty, standing five foot eight and 180 pounds - I am far from ten feet tall, and most definitely not bulletproof.

For the first time in my life, I am more aware of my weaknesses than my strengths. I know I have strength - real strengths, even areas of excellence. But they have been met with resistance from weaknesses I didn’t begin this journey with.

These are wounds I picked up along the way. Wounds that were not my fault. Experiences that affected my capacity and mobility. Scars that often serve as proof that I’m not gaslighting myself.

The drama, trauma, and tragedy that played on repeat in my mind for years are now validated by the limp I walk with - and the emotional and mental framework that informs many of my decisions.

I’m just weaker now.

As another modern-day prophet, Theo Von, put it:

“The thing about being alone isn’t that you don’t have anybody - it just feels like nobody has you.”

Pain as a Teacher

Pain purifies like nothing else - but first, it isolates.

It strips comfort, removes what you lean on, and leaves you exposed. Then, at your most vulnerable point, it breaks you in ways that hurt, hinder, and force you to reconsider how you see the world.

If you sit with it long enough - honestly - it will teach you things about yourself and your worldview that nothing else can.

Healing does come on the other side, but it’s nuanced. Emotional, spiritual, and soul-level healing don’t happen at the same pace as physical recovery.

It’s often said you can’t heal in the same place you were hurt. There’s truth in that—but it’s not the whole truth. You may have to leave to receive healing, but you must return to prove it has taken root. If certain spaces still send you into a death spiral, there is still room for growth and maturity.

When Everything Else Fails

Celebration fails when there’s nothing to celebrate. Family fails when the version of family you long for no longer exists. Culture only comforts to a point. Traditions inspire and inflame in equal measure.

Eventually, all of them leave you with more questions than answers - or more heartache than happiness.

And that’s okay, because they were never meant to be sufficient.

This is why Christmas stings for so many. Nostalgia, expectation, and cultural weight collide, pulling us into a swirl of heavy and holy emotion.

“Jesus is the reason for the season” - a phrase often repeated without reflection. But I believe it’s true. And more than that, it’s a life raft in a dark and stormy sea.

Jesus Himself is the raft.

Sometimes celebrating when you want to mourn is grabbing hold of Him. Sometimes grieving when you’re used to numbing yourself is reaching for Him. Sometimes confronting the very family that both formed and wounded you - and setting new boundaries for the future - is reaching for Him.

The hardest pill to swallow is this: the places we’ve been broken the longest are often the places we tried to heal alone.

You can’t do it by yourself.

So reach out.

Reach out to Jesus.

If Jesus Is the Reason

If Christmas is only presents, trees, gatherings, promotions, and forced happiness, I’ll miss that most years.

But if Jesus is the reason for the season - if He came to seek and save the lost - then my odds improve.

“For the Son of Man has come to seek and to save that which was lost.”

Luke 19:10 (NKJV)

If He leaves the ninety-nine to rescue the one who is stuck, disoriented, and confused - there’s hope.

If the promise arrives as a child - unblemished, raw, and full of potential - then I’m starting to understand.

God with us.

The same Jesus who said:

“Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick… I did not come to call the righteous, but sinners, to repentance.”

Luke 5:31–32 (NKJV)

That Jesus gives me hope. Because it was never about having your life together. It was always about admitting you don’t - and trusting Him to make beauty from the ashes.

“To give them beauty for ashes…”

Isaiah 61:3 (NKJV)

Conclusion: A Resolution of Hope

Life moves in seasons, cycles, and revolutions. Holidays mark time like mile markers on a road.

We are shaped by people, places, and experiences - some beautiful, some painful. If we’re not careful, we allow those things to define us.

But if Jesus is the reason for the season, we must invite Him into all of it.

As we do, the Great Physician heals what ails us, and we yield to the baby in the manger:

“For unto us a Child is born,

Unto us a Son is given;

And the government will be upon His shoulder…”

Isaiah 9:6 (NKJV)

So this is my resolution:

I will move forward with hope. What has been is not all that will be. Death and loss will not have the final word.

I choose to contend for life - and life abundant.

“For I am persuaded that neither death nor life… nor height nor depth… shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

Romans 8:38–39 (NKJV)

Author’s Note

Maybe it’s nostalgia. Maybe it’s the music and movies. Or maybe it’s the Holy Spirit inviting me into deeper wholeness.

Maybe the Light of the World is shining into places I’ve avoided. Maybe truth is undoing lies I unknowingly built my life upon.

Whatever it is, I feel tender. Raw. Childlike.

Like the Grinch whose heart grew three sizes - maybe I’m believing in Christmas again.

Maybe I never stopped.

Maybe I just forgot.

So today, I choose Jesus.

Jesus is my banner.

Jesus is my Savior.

Jesus is my hope.

Jesus is my friend.

Jesus is my reason.

Fire is a mystery few dare to behold.
It blesses and it burns; it warms and it warns.
It can forge a future or consume one entirely.

In its flames we are confronted, refined, and revealed-stripped of illusion and shaped into something truer than we were before. Fire is one of the great contradictions of creation: gentle enough to guide, fierce enough to undo. It creates value even as it threatens to destroy it. It tempers the unresolved places in us, refines the hidden ones, and purifies what cannot be counterfeited.

In the presence of fire, nothing stays superficial.

Burning questions are what remain when the flames finally settle, when the smoke clears, and when we stand surveying the ashes of what used to be while slowly coming to terms with what is no more.

A lifetime-dramatically and indefinitely altered in an instant.
Memories, mementos, and milestones consumed in the collision of destiny and deliverance: the moments we didn’t ask for, weren’t looking for, and yet somehow still arrived at our door in an inescapable act of providence.

The Mountain of Fire

“For you have not come to the mountain that may be touched and that burned with fire, and to blackness and darkness and tempest, and the sound of a trumpet and the voice of words, so that those who heard it begged that the word should not be spoken to them anymore. (For they could not endure what was commanded: ‘And if so much as a beast touches the mountain, it shall be stoned or shot with an arrow.’ And so terrifying was the sight that Moses said, ‘I am exceedingly afraid and trembling.’”)
Hebrews 12:18–21 NKJV

You did not come to the mountain to be burned.
You came to ascend-to overcome-and to rise into the demands of new levels of holiness, consecration, and the Fear of the LORD.

You came to claim your heavenly inheritance, to step into the fullness of your calling in God. But ascension requires surrender. To rise, you must lay aside the weights that have entangled you thus far.

“Therefore we also, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which so easily ensnares us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.”
Hebrews 12:1–2 NKJV

Purging, Pruning, and the Pain of Becoming

The stripping, purging, and pruning required for new levels, deliverance, and fruitfulness is almost never voluntary. It arrives by an external hand-an unseen pressure applied precisely to the tender places we would never expose on our own.

Yet when this inevitable third-party of purification appears in our story, we so often interpret it as trial or tribulation rather than the fierce tenderness of a Father unwilling to leave us bound.

Even Jesus-who surrendered His life freely and in perfect obedience-was still stripped by Roman hands before the world watched Him beaten and broken.
Nothing hidden.
Nothing covered.
Fully exposed.

Not because He lacked power, but because redemption required revelation.

Deliverance mirrors this mystery.
The purge is rarely self-initiated. It is stewarded by a Spirit-led witness enforcing the legalities of the New Covenant as demonic rights are renounced and broken. Renunciation ends the contract; the witness reinforces the liberation-ushering a soul into sozo, a deeper dimension of salvation, wholeness, and alignment.

Consider the vine.
Have you ever seen it prune itself? Of course not. A vine does not cut away its own excess; it simply grows and submits to the hands of the vinedresser.

Pruning is not punishment - it is preparation.
Every cut is a mercy.
Every reduction is multiplication in disguise.
Every exposure is the Gardener insisting we become who we were always meant to be.

Burning Question #1:

How Did We Get Here?

The presence of loss tells a much larger origins story-of gain, grit, and the long road that led to having something precious enough to lose.

What I am grieving reveals what I possessed.
Grief becomes its own testimony.
It speaks without language-like a film score or a filter on a lens-silent, shaping, undeniable.

For the soul carries its own thermostat.
Where grief rises, I know I am touching the counterweight of loss.
It measures what mattered.
It reveals where love once lived.

Where I must grieve, I must also celebrate. Like a wedding and a funeral on the same day, the tension of time swings on the axis of God’s faithfulness.

I am not driven by my feelings, but if I refuse to acknowledge them, they will govern me like unseen polarities controlling tides, weather, and seasons. To know them is to work with them-not for them.

To close the loop-or begin a new revolution-the back-and-forth, up-and-down, round-and-round inertia of life reveals where we’ve come from, where we stand, and where we’re going.

Honesty is necessary.
Transparency is learned.
Vulnerability is a weapon.

Burning Question #2:

What in the Hell Is Happening?

A phrase usually shouted in the throes of trauma - fists raised, voice cracking, soul unraveling. It feels like the beginning of the end, yet in the Kingdom it is often the doorway into transformation.

Most dysfunction is so familiar it goes unnoticed - like a parasite beneath the surface, appearing only in cycles or seasons. Undiagnosed, it remains unaddressed. But when it manifests, it becomes visible, nameable, healable.

So when the soul cries, “What in the hell is happening?” it is not just despair-it is revelation.
It acknowledges an absence of Heaven in the ecosystem of the heart.
If hell is wreaking havoc, the sharper question is: How did it gain access?

When hell finds an entrance, authority was surrendered. A gate was unguarded. An agreement was made - spoken or silent, conscious or unconscious.

And let’s be honest - realizing that sucks.

Especially when Jesus was painfully clear:

“And I also say to you that you are Peter, and on this rock I will build My church, and the gates of Hades shall not prevail against it. And I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven, and whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven.”
— Matthew 16:18–19 NKJV

The keys are within reach.
They always have been.
But access doesn’t equal activation.

Having armor doesn’t mean we put it on.
Having weapons doesn’t mean we wield them.

So when we ask, “What the hell happened?” Heaven often answers, “What did you stop saying? What did you stop binding? What did you stop loosing?”

Because fire is a revealer.
It burns the excess, the illusions, the distractions. When the flames die and we sift through the ashes, one thing always remains:

The keys.

Authority is never consumed. Only abandoned.

So pick them up.
Remember why you set them down.
Remember what you valued above them that now lies in dust.
Let pain instruct rather than imprison you.

Break cycles.
Renounce agreements.
Sever ties with what helped collapse the walls.

Some of the most powerful decisions are forged in the weakest places.
And you would be astonished at how resilient the seeds of faith are - they refuse to die in the soil of adversity, pushing through the ash with defiant hope.

Burning Question #3:

How Will We Choose to Move Forward?

Choices are powerful.
The illusion of having none is equally powerful.

The enemy loves to convince humanity they are at the mercy of their environment rather than the architects of it. If he can weaponize trauma, loss, and grief to reinforce the lie, he will.

But your choice - even to lift a handful of ashes and declare beauty over them - carries resurrection potential. Like Ezekiel prophesying to dry bones, the Spirit breathes life where death has settled.

Out of the Ashes…

Beauty will rise -if you learn from the fire.

If you ignore the lessons in the rubble, destruction becomes cyclical, reappearing with alarming regularity because the test destined to be passed remains incomplete.

Opposition often comes disguised as opportunity:
the opportunity to overcome by the blood of the Lamb and the word of our testimony.

Too often we default to passivity, refusing to acknowledge our role in our own suffering. By neglecting our authority, we silently surrender divine moments meant to define us.

The promises of God hang in the balance of obedience, faith, and hope that transcends this world.

The beauty rising from ashes often includes people, places, and dreams once believed dead being resurrected in ways we never expected.

So today - maybe you’ve fallen seven times.
But Scripture is clear:

A righteous man may fall many times, but he rises again.

So get off your ash, dust yourself off, and move forward.

Conclusion

You lost less than you think.
You gained more than you realize.
But you will have to process more than you want.

Victory often lives on the far side of loss.
It is not for the faint of heart.
It is not for those who grow weary in well-doing.

Dominion belongs to those who choose to enforce the covenant secured by the blood and body of Jesus Christ-for the glory of God the Father, by the power of the Holy Spirit.

There is a war.
There will be casualties.
There will be collateral.

But as Paul declared:
Overwhelming victory is ours through Christ Jesus our Lord.

Author’s Note

As I write this, I can still smell the smoke - still see the ash - still feel the residue of destruction. I am literally sifting through the remains of my childhood, memories and mementos dissolving into the air as if they never were.

The sober irony is not lost on me.

As I sort through what once meant so much - but now no longer exists - I am forced to reconcile the spiritual reality mirrored in this very real and tangible experience. So many things that once shaped my entire world no longer remain.

Yet through it all, the faithfulness, kindness, and goodness of the LORD have not shifted an inch.

What is real?
What is projection?
What is memory?
What is hope?
What is expectation?

Time blurs some lines and sharpens others.
Nostalgia mingles with grief.
Joy mingles with regret.
Beauty mingles with the sting of loss.

And so I make my list of what we lost in the fire…
and sit with the burning questions that remain.

— Justin Allen

Worshipping at the altars of false idols and principalities rarely looks like Ouija boards, black candles, and summoning pagan gods. Contrary to popular belief, most idolatry in the modern church is far more subtle-and far more socially acceptable. While studying lunar cycles, dabbling in astrology, and attempting to divine the future by stargazing are certainly real and dangerous (and have existed since the earliest days of humanity), I am thoroughly convinced that the body of Christ at large is worshipping false idols created in their own image and likeness.

Yes, that is a bold statement. Allow me to explain.

Scripture tells us we were created in the image and likeness of God (Genesis 1:26–27). This truth is non-negotiable. But to rightly grasp our created value and step into the destiny scroll God has written for our days (Psalm 139:16), we must grow in intimacy with the Godhead. Anything less places us at the mercy of:

• preconceived notions

• unhealed trauma

• religious assumptions

• and the influence of leaders we assume are more spiritual than we are

Like Israel standing at the base of Sinai—invited to ascend the hill of the Lord but choosing instead to remain at the door of their tents-we often refuse the invitation to draw near (Exodus 19:16-21; Psalm 24:3-4). Instead of encountering God ourselves, we elect a “Moses” to go up on our behalf.

We want deliverance without responsibility.

We want destiny without dying to self.

We want resurrection life without the cross.

But intimacy with God cannot be delegated. If we do not know Him for ourselves, we will worship a God formed by our experiences rather than His nature. Fear, lack, rejection, abandonment, poverty, and trauma begin interpreting eternity for us-and what we think is worship becomes idolatry.

Bono joked, “Religion is what you’re left with when the Spirit has left the room.” The tragedy is that many believers today are living exactly that. In the absence of the Spirit’s leadership, we craft golden calves that look disturbingly like… us.

Faith becomes telephone-game theology. Second-hand revelation. Hand-me-down intimacy. And when the final person speaks, it bears no resemblance to what God originally said.

Religion says, “Someone should do something.”

The Spirit says, “Here am I. Send me.” (Isaiah 6:8)

Religion builds systems and structures.

The Spirit reveals Jesus and releases power.

There is a form of godliness that DENIES the power (2 Timothy 3:5).

And anything done for God but not with God quickly becomes idolatry.

We are good at building.

But seldom do we stop long enough to ask,

“Lord, did You ask us to build this?”

Golden calves today are beautiful, ornate, flawless-yet useless. They exist only for vanity and self-reflection. And the world will never meet the Creator through an idol; they will only see creators crafting from a life lacking intimacy.

Therefore, I propose we cut down the Asherah poles, smash the golden calves, deface the graven images, and repent for coming under any influence other than the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Unlikely idols are hiding in plain sight-seducing saints toward popular opinion rather than the stewardship of the fiery coals that carry the Word of the Lord.

Below are several I believe the Holy Spirit is highlighting in this hour.

1. The Idol of Suffering

The Bible speaks extensively about the fellowship of HIS sufferings (Philippians 3:10), endurance, longsuffering, and persecution. These are real, promised, and undeniably PART of a life lived unto Christ.

Suffering-in its proper context-is holy. It produces oil of immeasurable worth (Matthew 25:1–13; Isaiah 61:3). It shapes humility, compassion, and dependence.

But the IDOL of suffering is something entirely different.

The idol of suffering says:

• “The more pain you endure, the holier you are.”

• “Breakthrough is suspicious. Victory is pride.”

• “The anointing is measured by how much you endure-not by fruitfulness or obedience.”

This mindset becomes a metric for holiness, creating a reward system where the “most wounded” becomes the most spiritually elite.

This is not Christianity.

It is religious masochism.

Signs the Idol of Suffering Is Operating:

• Viewing suffering as proof of divine favor

• Equating lack or hardship with spiritual maturity

• Suspicion toward joy, breakthrough, or abundance

• Refusing practical help because “God is teaching me something”

• Leaders who pressure people to endure abuse “for the sake of the call”

• Communities that glorify martyrdom but avoid healing

• A culture where testimony of victory is rare or resisted

In advanced stages, this idol produces:

• narcissistic leadership patterns

• abuse disguised as discipleship

• systems that crush identity rather than cultivate it

• cycles of burnout, exhaustion, and despair

Biblical suffering produces softness-mercy, compassion, tenderness.

Idolatrous suffering produces hardness-control, superiority, emotional detachment.

The cross is not a badge. It is not a brand. It is not a weapon to bludgeon others or ourselves. It is the doorway into resurrection life.

2. The Idol of Poverty

Jesus said, “The thief comes to steal, kill, and destroy, but I have come that they may have LIFE-and life more ABUNDANTLY.” (John 10:10)

Poverty is not holiness.

Lack is not righteousness.

Limitation is not a spiritual virtue.

Yes, Scripture teaches us:

• not to despise the day of small beginnings (Zechariah 4:10)

• to steward little well (Luke 16:10)

• that contentment is powerful (Philippians 4:11–13)

But the economy of Heaven is multiplication. Seed-time-harvest. Thirty, sixty, one hundredfold (Mark 4:8).

The idol of poverty convinces children of the King that:

• “I shouldn’t want more.”

• “Increase is dangerous.”

• “Prosperity is worldly.”

• “Responsibility is a burden I’m unworthy of.”

Prolonged poverty is often a sign of:

• unaddressed belief systems

• generational bondage

• fear-based decision-making

• lack of stewardship

• avoidance of responsibility

Poverty offers safety without purpose.

It demands nothing but costs everything.

If you find yourself kneeling at this altar,

GET UP.

The Kingdom does not reward bondage; it rewards stewardship.

3. The Idol of Service & Community

“Pour your life out!”

“Spend and be spent!”

“Lay it all down for the cause!”

These are beautiful truths-when rooted in free will and the leadership of the Spirit.

But sacrifice becomes idolatrous when:

• identity is offered on the altar of ministry

• leaders demand absolute loyalty without accountability

• “community” requires the abandonment of personal destiny

• spiritual language is weaponized to coerce conformity

• people are manipulated for the success of a system

• questioning leadership is labeled rebellion

This is not kingdom.

It is Christianized communism.

Anytime individuals with no oversight demand unquestioned obedience, disaster is inevitable.

Freedom-not control-is the environment of the gospel:

• “Where the Spirit of the Lord is, THERE IS FREEDOM.” (2 Corinthians 3:17)

• “Whom the Son sets free is FREE indeed.” (John 8:36)

Signs the Idol of Service & Community Is Operating:

• Your “yes” is assumed, not asked

• Saying “no” is punished socially or spiritually

• Leaders require sacrifice they do not model

• Busyness is equated with holiness

• Burnout is celebrated as faithfulness

• Your personal calling is minimized for the “greater good”

• Emotional, financial, or relational exploitation is normalized

Service is holy.

Community is beautiful.

But only when initiated by God, not demanded by man.

Do not bow to communal bondage masquerading as biblical unity.

4. The Idol of “Justice”

Justice is a biblical mandate (Isaiah 1:16–17; Micah 6:8).

Righteousness is equally essential (Psalm 89:14).

Justice without righteousness is imbalance.

Righteousness without justice is hypocrisy.

We must hold them in tension.

Proverbs 30:11–17 warns of a generation who:

• curses fathers and mothers

• is pure in its own eyes

• devours the poor

• is never satisfied

• mocks authority

Sound familiar?

There is a counterfeit justice rising in this hour-fueled by:

• secular humanism

• church hurt

• unresolved offenses

• vengeance disguised as virtue

This “justice” demands accountability without grace, vengeance without redemption, activism without holiness, and social change without spiritual transformation.

It seeks to:

• dismantle systems

• punish offenders

• elevate victims

• and replace the gospel with moral outrage

But Scripture is clear:

“…that He might be just AND the justifier…”

-Romans 3:23–26

Justice that ignores the cross is not justice-it is vengeance.

Justice that bypasses forgiveness is not justice-it is bondage.

Justice that centers “my pain” rather than “His blood” is idolatry.

Jesus warned us:

“Why do you look at the speck in your brother’s eye, but do not consider the plank in your own?”

-Matthew 7:3–5

The idol of justice blinds us to our own sin while empowering us to attack anything that makes us uncomfortable. It produces activists who protest more than they pray, who pick up offenses but refuse to pick up their cross.

Conclusion

Unlikely idols are everywhere-if you have eyes to see and ears to hear. I am weary of rhetoric masquerading as revelation, exhausted by echo chambers that reinforce trauma instead of transforming hearts. We cannot afford to be people who cherry-pick Scriptures to reinforce our narrative while ignoring the ones that confront us.

“All Scripture is given by inspiration of God…”

-and is profitable for doctrine, reproof, correction, and instruction in righteousness

(2 Timothy 3:16–17).

We need men and women who will ASCEND the hill of the Lord with clean hands and pure hearts-refusing to lift their soul to an idol (Psalm 24:3–4).

“Submit to God. Resist the devil and he will flee…

Draw near to God and He will draw near to you.”

-James 4:7–10

Return to intimacy.

Return to purity.

Return to the fear of the Lord.

And may every unlikely idol fall.

Author’s Note

I write this with humility, sobriety, and two decades of service to the body of Christ. Over the last 20+ years I have ministered in more than 150 churches across multiple nations-serving apostolic teams, prophetic councils, local congregations, para-church ministries, and leaders in both nonprofit and marketplace contexts.

I am not writing from unhealed wounds, bitterness, or disillusionment.

I am writing from hope.

Hope for revival.

Hope for reformation.

Hope that we will not miss the hour of our visitation.

As five-fold ministers (Ephesians 4), our mandate is to equip the saints-not enslave them. To rightly divide the Word-not weaponize it. To reflect Christ-not ourselves. To move by the Spirit-not by sentiment or self-interest.

May the Lord awaken His Church.

May every idol fall.

And may Christ be formed in us.

Sincerely,

Justin