When I was a kid, I always thought I would miss out on something. That fear consumed me. I worried that my friends would meet without me, that my boyfriend would find someone better, or that I’d miss a rare moment of laughter and joy with my family.
In school, there was always an in crowd—the group that made life look better than the life I had been given. That’s what I began to fear missing out on.
In seventh grade, I finally got the chance to sit at those tables, to walk home with that group, to be included. But the more time I spent there, the more I realized something: I wasn’t meant for that table. I was meant for something different.
I’d like to say I learned my lesson then, but the truth is—even now at forty-two—I still have moments when I look at the circles I’ll never be invited into and feel that old fear of missing out rise again.
A few years ago, I received a prophetic word that changed everything. The Lord reminded me that there was a seat at the table prepared for me—not a table of man’s making, not one built on prominence or popularity, but one the Father Himself had set. There, a seat was reserved for me.
That moment marked a turning point. It was the beginning of me becoming the woman who would write these words.
Because now, I don’t care about the tables of man. The more I walk with Him, the more I know: If I were offered a seat at those tables today, I’d likely decline.
For I have found my place at the Father’s table— and that’s where I belong.
Reflection
True belonging isn’t about fitting in—it’s about being chosen. The Father’s table is never crowded, never exclusive, and never closed. There’s a seat with your name on it, waiting for you to rest, be seen, and be known.
There’s a truth that has been stirring in my spirit lately: Jesus came to redefine everything.
He didn’t come to patch up the old system, but to reveal a completely new way of seeing — one shaped by love, truth, and life in the Spirit. Every encounter, every parable, every act of compassion was a living expression of God saying, “You’ve known Me one way, but I am more.”
Redefining God
In John 14:9, Jesus said, “Anyone who has seen Me has seen the Father.”
For generations, people saw God as distant — powerful, yes, but unreachable. Jesus came and shattered that image. He revealed the Father not as a distant judge, but as a loving Abba who draws near to the broken. He didn’t come to change God’s heart toward man; He came to reveal that it had always been full of love.
Redefining Love
In John 13:34, Jesus gives a new command: “Love one another as I have loved you.” That one statement changed everything.
Love was no longer a word to describe affection; it became the essence of divine nature. True love was redefined not by emotion but by sacrifice — by a cross that said, “I choose you even when you turn away.”
Redefining Power and Leadership
In Matthew 20:26–28, Jesus says, “Whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant.”
The world says power is about control. Jesus redefined it as servanthood. He showed us that authority in the Kingdom flows from humility, not hierarchy.
Greatness isn’t about being first — it’s about being willing to kneel. He demonstrated that true leadership doesn’t demand to be followed; it compels others by love.
Redefining the Kingdom
When the Pharisees questioned Him in Luke 17:21, Jesus said, “The Kingdom of God is within you.”
They were looking for a government, but He revealed a Kingdom that starts in the heart. The Kingdom is not political — it’s personal. It doesn’t come with walls, flags, or thrones — it comes wherever hearts are yielded to the King.
Redefining Worship
Jesus told the Samaritan woman in John 4:23 that true worshipers would worship “in Spirit and in truth.”
He redefined worship from an act to a posture. It’s not about where you stand, but Who you stand in. It’s not about song or sacrifice — it’s about communion with the One who never leaves.
Redefining Humanity
Paul writes in 2 Corinthians 5:17, “If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation.”
Jesus didn’t just redeem mankind; He redefined what it means to be human. We’re no longer bound by the failures of Adam but reborn in the likeness of Christ. We were not made to strive for perfection — we were created to live from union.
Redefining Death and Victory
In John 11:25, Jesus declares, “I am the resurrection and the life.” With that one statement, He redefined death.
What once symbolized finality became the gateway to glory. Through His resurrection, endings were redefined as beginnings. He didn’t just conquer the grave; He redefined what victory even means.
Redefining Reality Itself
In every word, Jesus reintroduced us to the Father’s heart. He didn’t come to confirm what we knew; He came to redefine what was possible.
He redefined relationship over religion, grace over law, and love over fear. He redefined the human story by writing Himself into ours.
A Final Reflection
When I look at the life of Jesus, I see the divine invitation still echoing: “Let Me redefine how you see.”
He still comes into our moments of misunderstanding, our labels, our limits, and whispers, “You’ve known Me one way, but I am more.”
May we be those who allow Him to rewrite our definitions of success, love, and even faith — until every part of our lives reflects His truth.
Because Jesus didn’t just come to teach us about God. He came to redefine everything we thought we knew.
“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.” — Psalm 23:1
There are seasons in life when letting go feels like loss—whether it’s people, opportunities, or familiar places of comfort. At first glance, it feels like grief. Yet, Psalm 23 reminds us of a greater truth: if the Lord is my Shepherd, then He knows where to lead me and what to remove from my path. My role is not to cling, but to trust and rest in His guidance.
Letting go is not about failure; it’s about releasing what has completed its purpose in our story. Anything not rooted in Christ cannot carry eternal weight. But when Christ Himself is our foundation, we can face change without fear—because His love is steady when everything else shifts.
The Spirit of God is calling His people into freedom from fear—fear of rejection, fear of abandonment, fear of losing control. The Shepherd is leading you into green pastures, but to step forward you must loosen your grip on what is behind you. The table He prepares is already set, and you do not need man’s invitation to take your place.
Personal Reflection
What is the hardest thing you’ve had to release in this past season?
How does Psalm 23 reshape your perspective on God’s provision when something or someone leaves your life?
In what ways can you practice resting in the Shepherd’s care this week instead of striving to hold things together yourself?
Prayer
Father, thank You for being my Shepherd. Teach me the art of letting go with grace and trust. Free me from the fear of rejection, from clinging to what no longer carries purpose, and from striving for acceptance at man’s table. Lead me into the wide-open flow of Your Spirit, where Your love is more than enough. Amen.
I was preparing for a message recently when the Lord drew me to a passage I’ve read countless times: Matthew 16. This time, however, the words leapt off the page in a way I couldn’t ignore. Jesus says, “I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven.”
How often have we diminished the power of those words? We read on about binding and loosing, and we turn it into formulas, actions, or religious duties. But Jesus wasn’t handing out rituals—He was entrusting authority. Wherever there are keys, there is both authority and responsibility.
Think about it: if I give you the keys to my house, I’m trusting you not only with access but with stewardship. Jesus wasn’t just giving us permission to enter heaven one day—He was giving us the authority to unlock heaven’s reality here and now.
When Peter declared, “You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God,” Jesus celebrated his revelation—not his reasoning. Peter didn’t figure it out by logic or teaching. The Father Himself revealed it to him.
So what does this tell us? The kingdom can only be revealed through us to the depth that it has been revealed in us! Peter had eyes to see, in order to unveil kingdom realities here on earth we must as well.
The revelation Peter had revealed by the father is the rock the Church is built upon. Not Peter the man, but the unveiled identity of Christ. And this is what Jesus meant when He spoke of the keys—the revelation of Christ is the key that unlocks the Kingdom.
I believe God is not looking merely for revival—a flash of passion in one generation—but for reformation that transforms generations to come. He’s in it for the long game, planting seeds that will bear fruit that remains.
That requires deep roots. Shallow Christianity—attendance, surface prayers, or quick formulas—cannot withstand the storms of this age. What we need are roots so deep in the revelation of Christ that people encounter Him when they encounter us.
One of the enemy’s greatest strategies is to lull the Church to sleep with comfort and complacency. But heaven’s cry is: “Wake up!”
The Kingdom isn’t waiting for us somewhere far away—it is already within us (Luke 17:21). Jesus placed the keys in our hands. Not to hold. Not to admire. But to use.
How do we do this? We unlock the kingdom in ourselves and others that we encounter by being the ministers of Reconciliation. Constantly enlightening others to the true reality of their identity in Christ.
Everywhere you go, you carry the authority to unlock freedom, healing, reconciliation, and hope. There are no bystanders in the Kingdom.
So here’s the challenge: don’t settle for shallow roots. Don’t wait for a move of God to fall from the sky. The Kingdom is already in you. The keys are already in your hand.
It’s time to wake up. It’s time to use your keys. It’s time to unlock the Kingdom.
Here’s a Prayer:
Lord, thank You for entrusting me with the keys of Your Kingdom. Forgive me for the times I’ve left them unused. I ask for deeper roots in You, so that my life bears fruit that remains. Show me how to unlock reconciliation, healing, and hope wherever I go. Today, I choose to use my keys. Amen.
Welcome! I’m so glad you’ve made your way here. This space was created to be more than just a blog — it’s a place of encounter. A place where you can come and rediscover who you truly are, not by striving or performing, but by resting in the Father’s love.
My journey has taught me that true healing, identity, and transformation are found in one place — the heart of the Father. It was there that I discovered I belonged, that I was already loved, and that nothing could separate me from His embrace. That revelation is what fuels every post written here.
On this blog, you’ll find devotionals, prophetic insights, teachings, and reflections, all centered on Christ and what it means to live as sons and daughters. My prayer is that these words help you not just learn about God, but encounter Him in a deeper way — to feel the freedom, healing, and joy that come from abiding in His heart.
So whether you are weary, searching, or simply hungry for more of Him, you are welcome here. Take your seat in the Father’s heart — it’s where you began, and it’s where you belong.
In The Heart Of The Father 