Some time ago, I had a thought that I’ve never been able to shake — one that continues to stir reverence and awe in me.
Jesus is tending to the lamps of His Ekklesia.
In the Book of Revelation, we’re given a breathtaking vision of Jesus walking among the golden lampstands — the very representation of His Church. He is clothed in priestly garments, fully adorned in the ephod, moving carefully and intentionally among the lamps to ensure their flame continues to burn.
It is one of the most beautiful images in all of Scripture — not only because of the glory of the scene, but because of what it reveals about His heart.
He Tends the Flame
So often, we live as if the responsibility of sustaining the Church’s fire rests entirely upon us. We strategize, we labor, we measure, and we worry that the flame might go out if we don’t do enough.
But Revelation reminds us: He walks among the lampstands.
Jesus Himself is the keeper of the flame. He is the one trimming the wicks, replenishing the oil, and ensuring that His light never fades. He alone guarantees that the lamp of His Ekklesia will not go out.
What humility it requires to remember this — that the sustaining power of the Church is not human, but divine. We are invited to partner, yes, but never to carry what only Christ Himself was designed to bear.
The Faithful and True Witness
The Scripture calls Him “the faithful and true witness.”
There is nothing He will allow to extinguish our fire — not persecution, not weakness, not the frailty of human hearts. Even when we feel we are barely making it through the night, He is tending, trimming, guarding, and watching over the flame.
He is not only the High Priest who lights the fire — He is the One who keeps it burning.
“A bruised reed He will not break, and a smoldering wick He will not snuff out.” – Isaiah 42:3
Heavenly Authority, Not Earthly Measure
The authority and power of the Ekklesia flow from a heavenly realm. They are not to be weighed or judged by temporal standards.
We cannot measure the influence of the Church by cultural acceptance, public approval, or worldly metrics of success. The light of Christ’s body is not defined by visibility, but by vitality — and its vitality is sustained by His hand alone.
Final Reflection
The next time you wonder if the Church is fading, remember this: Jesus is still walking among the lampstands.
He is trimming the wicks, refilling the oil, and whispering life back into every flickering flame.
Our task is not to keep the fire burning by our own strength, but to stay surrendered to the One who does. He is the Keeper of the Flame — the One who walks among us even now, faithfully ensuring that His light will never go out.
For years, many of us have been satisfied with a prophetic word — a single message that stirred our hearts — or a momentary encounter with the Lord that brought us comfort and direction. Those moments are beautiful, but I sense a deep shift happening across the Body of Christ.
The day has arrived when the longing of the heart will no longer be satisfied with glimpses into spiritual realities in Christ, but with the fullness of stepping into them.
This is where the prophetic is evolving. God is maturing His people beyond mere moments into habitation — from hearing about the realm of the Spirit to living from it.
The Prophetic System That Once Was
One of the greatest frustrations I’ve experienced in the prophetic movement is how we’ve built systems around receiving a word from a man or woman of God. Entire ministries have been structured around the anticipation of a fresh “word,” while many believers quietly wait for someone else to hear God for them.
But this was never the fullness of the prophetic ministry. It was a starting point — a necessary season where the Lord used prophets to awaken hunger. Yet as Christ brings His Ekklesia into greater maturity, we are beginning to understand that this model, by itself, cannot carry what God is now releasing.
The prophetic is not meant to create dependency; it’s meant to awaken intimacy.
True prophetic maturity is not found in how often we hear a word, but in how deeply we live in the Word Himself.
Beyond Words — Into Reality
There came a time, not long ago, when I found myself uninterested in receiving another prophetic word. I wasn’t disillusioned or cold — I was hungry for more.
I didn’t want another encounter that would fade after a few days. I wanted to be so overcome by the reality of Jesus walking with me that what I saw around me no longer defined how I lived.
And though I haven’t fully arrived there yet, I can say this: the closer I get, the quieter my spirit becomes. I think less about warfare and more about oneness. I see less of others’ shortcomings and more of His intention in the midst of it all.
The more we live in the realm of the Spirit, the less the noise of earth determines our perception.
The Longing of the Sons
So what is the now? What is the future of the prophetic?
I believe there is a divine longing being awakened in many hearts — a desire not just to peer into the things of the Spirit, but to stand in them.
To be surrounded by glory, not just touched by it. To be infused with His life, not just inspired by His voice. To become, through union, the very expression of what has been seen.
This is where the prophetic ministry is heading — into the space of embodiment.
The Prophetic as Participation
The prophetic in this new era will no longer merely describe what God is doing. It will participate with what God is doing.
Prophets and prophetic people will look upon the dry and desolate places and see beyond the surface — calling forth the intention of God from the unseen realm into the seen.
This is where revelation becomes creation. It’s where the prophetic matures from words to realities.
The future of the prophetic is not in pronouncing what’s coming — it’s in becoming what’s been promised.
Final Reflection
We are crossing a threshold. The prophetic ministry is shifting from the edge of the river to the depths of it — from glimpsing to immersing, from hearing to inhabiting.
And in that place, the sons and daughters of God will rise, not as mere messengers of heaven, but as living reflections of the One who speaks.
There is a sound echoing across the earth right now — a deep rumbling in the Spirit that feels like both a tearing and a birthing. As I’ve sat before the Lord in this season, I’ve sensed that what we’re hearing isn’t simply another revival coming or another movement forming — it’s something much greater.
The Spirit of the Lord whispered to me:
“You are standing in the hallway between two ages. The sound you hear is the rumbling of transition. The systems of men are being shaken, not to destroy, but to make room for the manifestation of My sons and daughters. For what is emerging is not another movement, but another age.”
The Great Shift
We have lived for centuries in what many know as the Church Age — a time when God’s presence was largely carried through gatherings, revivals, and anointed individuals. It was beautiful and necessary, and it established a foundation for faith communities across the world.
But now the Lord is ushering in what He calls the Kingdom Age — an era where His presence is not confined to pulpits, events, or ministry systems, but revealed through people who know they are His dwelling place.
“You have known the Church Age,” says the Lord, “but behold, I am ushering in the Kingdom Age. My presence will no longer be limited to ministry models or moments of visitation. A generation is rising who understand that they themselves are My dwelling place — the embodiment of My glory in the earth.”
This is why everything is shaking. The Lord is not destroying what has been; He is making space for what is becoming.
The Revelation of the Son
The Church was built upon the revelation of the Son — Jesus Christ, the cornerstone of our faith. But the Kingdom that is emerging will be built upon the revelation of sons — men and women who live in His likeness, bear His image, and manifest His nature in everyday life.
“This generation,” the Lord said, “will not be known for the titles they carry, but for the likeness they bear. I am raising up a people who reflect the brightness of My glory and carry the fragrance of My presence wherever they go.”
We are moving from talking about God to revealing Him — from ministry as message to life as manifestation.
The Vision of the River
The Lord reminded me of a dream I had in 2022.
In the dream, I saw a wide river flowing down the middle of what looked like a city street. On one side, vehicles — representing ministries — were backing up to the water. People dipped wheelbarrows into the river, filled them, and drove away. Again and again, they came to collect, but never stayed.
Then I heard the Lord say,
“These are those who are satisfied with going from encounter to encounter.”
Then He said, “Look again.”
Further down the riverbank, I saw no vehicles — only people diving into the water, fully immersed. They were radiant, shining like diamonds, their eyes full of light.
“These are those who are satisfied with nothing less than full immersion in My Spirit,” the Lord said. “They have discovered that the river is not around them, but within them.”
That dream has become a living parable for this hour. God is calling us to move from visitation to habitation — from merely touching the presence of God to living from it.
The Word of Transformation
In this new era, the Lord is bringing a revelation that will transfigure His people. We will no longer live from conference to conference, revival to revival, or worship set to worship set — but from an unbroken awareness that Christ in us is the hope of glory.
“You have looked for revival to come,” He said, “but revival will not come to you — it will flow through you.”
A company of image bearers is rising — sons and daughters who release the Kingdom in every sphere: government, education, business, family, media, and the arts. They will carry both humility and authority, releasing life wherever they go because the river flows from within them.
The Shift in the Fivefold
The Lord also spoke about how the fivefold ministry itself is changing in this transition:
“The structure of the fivefold ministry is being redefined. The system you have known has produced ministers who perform, but I am calling forth fathers and mothers who raise up sons and daughters. The days of ministry for applause are over; the days of ministry for impartation have come.”
Apostles and prophets will no longer build for personal legacy, but for generational maturity. Pastors and teachers will no longer simply tend sheep — they will activate sons. The evangelist will no longer be a celebrity of salvation, but a carrier of the heartbeat of Heaven.
The goal is no longer performance, but presence.
The Call to the Image Bearers
“I am calling My people into full awareness of who they are,” says the Spirit of the Lord. “You have prayed for more of Me, but I say — you already carry My fullness. The invitation now is not to seek Me externally, but to awaken internally.”
We are not waiting for glory to fall — the glory is rising from within.
This new breed will not measure success by crowds or platforms, but by transformation. They will not lead by title, but by union. Their authority will come not from charisma, but from closeness to My heart.
“Arise, My sons and daughters. Arise, Image Bearers. For your light has already come. The glory that once rested upon tabernacles now rests within you. The Church has prepared the foundation, but now the Kingdom is being built — and you are its living stones.”
A Prophetic Decree
I decree:
The age of visitation is over, and the age of habitation has begun.
The sons and daughters of God are awakening to their identity as image bearers of His glory.
The river of God is flowing from within His people — unstoppable, uncontainable, and alive.
Ministries are shifting from performance to presence, from hierarchy to habitation.
The light of Christ within you will break forth like the dawn — and nations will come to the brightness of your rising.
Final Word
This is the hour of the image bearers — those who carry not only the message of Christ, but the manifestation of Him.
“No longer will you seek My presence,” says the Lord, “for you will be My presence. No longer will you carry My glory — you will become My glory revealed.”
So rise up, radiant ones. The hallway between ages is giving way to a new day — and your light has already come.
There’s a deep stirring in the heart of God right now concerning leadership in His Church. The Lord is inviting His people—especially those entrusted with influence—to step fully into what He’s building and out of what He’s shaking.
As I sat before Him, I felt His heart—not in anger, but in grief and holy longing. Then I heard these words:
“There are those in My house who see the cracks in the system yet continue to drink from its wells. They have one foot in and one foot out—aware that I am shifting, yet unwilling to step away from the comfort that the old order provides.”
When I heard this, the Lord brought me to James 1:8:
“A double-minded man is unstable in all his ways.”
Then I heard Him say again:
“You will never stabilize what I am shaking. You cannot uphold what I am dismantling. The instability you feel is not the enemy—it is the sound of My movement.”
A Call to Step Away from Transactional Religion
“I am calling for a mass exodus,” says the Lord, “not from the earth through escape, but from the systems that feed ambition and reward performance.
You call it church, but I call it transaction. You call it order, but I call it control.
I am breaking the machinery that has turned My presence into performance and My name into merchandise. You have built platforms to be seen rather than altars to behold Me.”
These words came with a weight of love—a Father’s longing for His children to return to the simplicity of devotion to Christ. This is not a word of condemnation but of invitation: a call to purity, humility, and rest.
The Shaking Is a Sign of His Movement
The Lord continued:
“I am shifting beneath your feet. Do not mistake the trembling for warfare—it is not the enemy shaking your foundations, it is Me.
I am moving the ground you’ve tried to secure apart from My instruction. Many have built on soil I did not prepare, and now the foundations quake.
I am tearing down what has been built from fear and striving. I will not allow new wine to flow into old wineskins. I am preparing a people who will serve not for platform, but from Presence.”
Come Out and Be Separate
“Come out from among them,” says the Spirit of God. “Depart from the systems that profit from performance. Lay down your crowns, your platforms, and your self-made structures.
I am raising up leaders who will not bow to the idol of visibility nor bend under the pressure of perception. They will lead from purity, not position—from intimacy, not image—from union, not ambition.”
This is the hour for authenticity. God is after hearts fully His—leaders who have nothing to prove and nothing to protect, who live unshaken because their foundation is Christ alone.
The New Blueprint
“I am building again,” says the Lord, “but not as man builds. I am forming an ekklesia that lives from intimacy, not influence; from unity, not uniformity; from the fire of love, not the fear of losing relevance.
The shaking you feel is not punishment—it is invitation. Step out of what I am ending and into what I am beginning.
For I am laying a new foundation built on communion, humility, and rest. You will no longer labor for Me—you will live from Me.”
Refining, Not Rejecting
This is not rejection—it’s redirection. It’s not judgment—it’s alignment.
The Lord is calling His leaders to step off unstable ground and return to the unshakable foundation of Christ. He’s not removing you; He’s refining you. He’s not silencing you; He’s sanctifying your sound.
“I am building a Church that no longer seeks to be famous but faithful,” says the Lord. “A people no longer driven by crowds but by covenant.”
If you feel the ground trembling beneath your feet, know this:
It’s not to destroy you—it’s to deliver you. It’s not to end your calling—it’s to refine it.
The Lord is saying:
“It’s time to move fully into what I’m building.”
Scripture References
James 1:8 — “A double-minded man is unstable in all his ways.”
Job 22:28 — “You will also declare a thing, and it will be established for you.”
Matthew 7:24–27 — “The wise man builds his house upon the rock.”
Revelation 3:17–20 — “Behold, I stand at the door and knock.”
Isaiah 43:18–19 — “Behold, I am doing a new thing; do you not perceive it?”
Final Reflection
This prophetic word is a holy invitation. The shaking is not a sign of failure but of formation. God is awakening His leaders to build from the inside out—through communion, humility, and love.
He is asking: Will you step out of the familiar? Will you leave behind what no longer carries His breath? Will you plant both feet firmly in what He’s building now?
The time for hesitation has ended. The Lord is moving—and He’s calling His Church to move with Him.
Something interesting happens when we begin to move into our calling. There are stages that, I believe, every son and daughter of God must walk through.
In the beginning, it’s beautiful — there are voices that affirm you, people who see the grace of God upon your life and cheer you on. Their faith fuels yours. But as you keep walking, something shifts. The affirming voices fade. Those who once saw the call no longer seem to see it. You find yourself standing in the in-between — not where you started, but not yet where God said you’d be.
It’s here that the real test begins.
What do you do when the voices go silent?
Paul told Timothy to “wage warfare with the prophecies spoken over you”
(1 Timothy 1:18). When all other voices quiet down, that’s when you lean into the voice of God. You pick up the prophetic promises He gave you and use them as your weapons of war.
You use them to silence the lies of the enemy. You use them to refuse discouragement. You use them to speak life over your assignment when it feels barren. And you use them to fix your eyes once again on the only One who called you — God Himself.
There Are Battles You’re Called To — and Battles You’re Not
Recently, the Lord began to show me something important: there are fights we are called to, and there are fights we were never meant to pick up.
Some fights are distractions — sent to drain your time, your energy, and your focus. They lure you into defending what God never asked you to defend or proving something He already settled. When we step into those battles, they don’t produce fruit; they only produce fatigue.
And when you realize you’ve been swinging your sword in the wrong direction, all you can do is release it.
Even Jesus prepared His disciples for this reality when He said,
“If anyone does not receive you or listen to your words, shake the dust off your feet and move on.” (Matthew 10:14)
That was His way of saying — not everyone will see you, not everyone will understand the call, and that’s okay. You don’t need to convince anyone to receive you. You just need to keep moving forward.
Stand Firm, But Don’t Strive
There’s a difference between fighting for your calling and striving to prove it.
The call to stand firm on the foundation of Christ — to guard what He’s entrusted to you — is holy. But the call to convince others of your assignment is not. One leads to peace, the other to exhaustion.
So when you find yourself in that quiet place, when the voices that once affirmed you are no longer there, remember: you were never meant to be sustained by human affirmation.
You were meant to be sustained by His voice.
Let your warfare be worship. Let your strategy be surrender. Let your confidence rest in what He said — not in who sees it.
Because the silence of others doesn’t mean Heaven has gone silent. In fact, it may be the sound of God drawing you closer — to teach you how to hear Him above all else.
Prophetic Word: The Lord says, “Do not mistake isolation for abandonment. I am refining your focus so you can see Me more clearly. You are stepping into a season where the only validation that will matter is Mine. Stand firm in what I’ve called you to. Steward it well, and I will make it known in My time.”
“The way you have known the fivefold to function is about to change.”
A few years ago, I was at a conference and received a word from the Lord that He told me to sit with. So I did.
At first, I reasoned with myself—“This can’t be God. He’s the same yesterday, today, and forever.” And yes, that’s true. But when we look through Scripture, we can clearly see that God has shifted how He partners with men and women on the earth throughout time.
If you’re reading this and already feeling uneasy, bear with me a moment—I promise it’ll come together.
From Abraham to the Prophets: A Progressive Revelation
For the sake of this discussion, I’ll focus on the Prophetic, because that’s how God showed it to me most vividly.
If we look at Abraham, he was a prophet of God—yet he did not preach or prophesy as we understand it today. Instead, he is called a prophet because he saw the revelation of Christ (see Hebrews) and lived from vision, not from what he could assess in the natural realm.
Then there was Moses, a prophet with a specific call—to deliver the children of Israel out of captivity.
Eventually, the Judges were established. They became the governing voice of God to humanity because Moses chose elders, laying the foundation for that order.
Following them came Samuel, who still carried a governing voice, but within the new structure of a kingship.
Then came Elijah and Elisha, prophets who operated in signs and wonders—ushering in a season of reformation and power. Later, the Major and Minor Prophets arose, declaring the coming Messiah.
The Shifting Voice of God
After this, we enter the time we often call the “silent years.” But as the Lord showed me, this was not silence—it was transition. The prophetic voice was shifting in preparation for something greater.
Then came John the Baptist, the breaker prophet, sent in the spirit of Elijah to prepare the way for Yeshua. His voice thundered in the darkness, announcing that God’s voice had not ceased—it was transforming.
The Mount of Transfiguration: A Turning Point
I’ve often believed that the emphasis of the governing voices of the Law and the Prophets gave way to the power of the revealed Son of God, Yeshua, on the Mount of Transfiguration.
We saw Him transfigured—but in Him, all of creation began to be transfigured as well.
With this transfiguration, creation will no longer respond to one lone voice, but to the Ekklesia releasing the voice of Christ collectively. We are the governing voice of God in the earth—a body united in purpose and power. This authority no longer belongs to one spiritual gift or the other; it belongs to the corporate Body of Christ operating as one.
What we must understand is that, as the Body of Christ, this moment was laying a foundation for us. We now walk in that same authority collectively as His Ekklesia. This is why the unity of the faith is so vital—our authority as a collective Body transcends titles, positions, and even spiritual gifts.
It’s not about one office standing above another, but about the fullness of Christ being expressed through His unified Body in the earth.
Moving From Foundation to Fulfillment
This transformation has been unfolding ever since—the foundation of the Ekklesia has shifted. We are now walking in what has already been established in Christ Jesus.
When I first received that word, I didn’t fully understand it. I had to sit with the Lord and let Him unpack what He was showing me.
We have yet to reach the age of maturity as the Body.
As Ephesians 4 reveals, we are called to function as one new man with all the dimensions of Christ—and we haven’t fully arrived there yet.
Like Peter on the Mount of Transfiguration, many have tried to dwell in the Law and the Prophets and make Jesus our consolation prize. But that is not the Ekklesia.
The foundation was already laid by the Prophets and Apostles, built upon the revelation of Christ Himself.
Entering the Age of the Kingdom
So what now?
We must, as prophetic voices, be willing to lay down our need to return to the function of the Old Testament prophet.
Why? Because we are entering the Age of the Kingdom—the Age of the Sons of God.
The diversities of the gifts will be all around us, and we must remain open to what God is doing in this new era.
Reflection
The fivefold was never meant to be a hierarchy—it was meant to reveal the maturity of Christ through a unified Body. The shift we are sensing is not the end of the fivefold, but its evolution into fullness—rooted in sonship, unity, and kingdom authority.
Being who you are isn’t always easy—especially when you’ve been told your entire life that something about you needed to be fixed, corrected, or covered up.
It’s the same lie whispered to Adam and Eve in the garden: You are flawed. You are unqualified to stand before God. You are unworthy of His presence and unwanted by Him.
That’s the message I’ve battled for most of my life—sometimes from others, but often in my own mind. The hardest lies to overcome are the familiar ones—the ones that sound like our parents’ frustration, our friends’ jokes, or society’s expectations echoing in our thoughts.
But today, I’m reminded: I am found perfect and complete in Him. This truth alone is powerful enough to uproot the message of striving.
The enemy loves the language of “not good enough”—he thrives in the paperwork of proving, even when it’s dressed in Christian language. It’s still the same old religion: try harder, do more, become worthy.
A friend recently said, “I’ve never felt religion quite like what you all have there in Cleveland.” And she’s right. There’s the loud religion that demands, “Do something to be something.” Then there’s the quiet kind—the one that hides behind freedom-sounding words but carries the same heavy foundation of striving.
So what do we do? We dare to tell people the truth: you already are.
Tell the addict, “You already are.” Tell the prodigal, “You already are.” Tell the lost, the immature, the hurting—who they already are, not who they need to become.
It’s radical, but it’s the gospel. People who leave your presence feeling accepted, seen, and loved will bear far more fruit than those who walk away feeling they need to measure up.
The indwelling of the Holy Spirit—Christ in me—eradicates shame by whispering, “You are God’s beloved child.”
How do I know? Because before Jesus ever performed a miracle, preached a sermon, or went to the cross, the Father declared, “This is My beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.”
If He loves us in the same way He loves Jesus, what do you think He’s whispering to our hearts today? Not condemnation—connection. Not judgment—invitation.
He came to sit with us, walk with us, and talk with us.
Honestly, I can’t do another ounce of religion. This is my exodus—out of the system of sin, condemnation, and sacrifice that was completely done away with by the law of grace.
“There is no condemnation…” means none. Not even a trace.
So if I can leave you with one thought: Your only requirement is to be who you are. Not to climb, prove, or perform—but to rest in the truth that Christ in you is the assurance of glory.
His word will not return void—it will accomplish what it was sent to do.
So lay down the yoke of striving and pick up the paintbrush, the pen, the song, the dance. Lead boldly across the river into the promises of God.
Leave behind the message of becoming— and pick up the mantle of sonship, freedom, and joy.
And if you find yourself comparing, striving, or reaching for a crown— lay it down.
There are moments when the Lord allows us to see what grieves His heart, not to overwhelm us, but to invite us into intercession. What He reveals is never meant to shame, but to awaken love — to call His people back to what truly matters. This is one of those moments.
The Dream
Sometime ago, I had a dream. In that dream, I was sitting in the sanctuary of a large church. It was bright, beautiful, and full of expectation — yet as I looked down, I realized there was blood everywhere.
It wasn’t contained to one corner or row. It covered the floors, the seats, even the stage. I began to panic, knowing leaders were coming in soon. Surely they would see it too. But as they walked in, they took their seats on the front row, completely oblivious to the blood that surrounded them.
Frantic, I began reaching out, saying, “Help me clean this up! There’s blood everywhere!” Some responded by handing me small towels — far too small to make a difference. And so I fell to my knees, weeping uncontrollably, trying to wipe away what felt impossible to clean. My heart broke as I cried over the blood in the house of God.
The Weight That Remained
For weeks after the dream, I carried a deep heaviness. It wasn’t fear — it was grief. I didn’t know how to share what I saw or what to do with the weight I felt. The problem seemed too big to fix.
Over time, I realized something profound: I didn’t represent one person trying to fix it — I represented a movement. A movement of those who can no longer walk past the pain in the house of God. Those who are being stirred by the Spirit to weep where others remain indifferent, and to intercede where others have grown numb.
The Pain We’ve Ignored
What has resurfaced in my heart recently is this: there are countless people who have been wounded, silenced, and cast aside within the walls that bear God’s name. And while that reality is heartbreaking, what pierces deepest is that, for the most part, we’ve grown comfortable stepping over the blood.
We’ve learned to keep serving, building, and preaching — even when the floor beneath us cries out with the pain of those who’ve been hurt. We’ve continued in the mission but lost the tenderness of mercy.
And I hear the Father saying:
“You cannot build upon the shed blood of those who were wounded while among those called to lead them. I am calling for cleansing in My house — not condemnation, but compassion. I am restoring purity, humility, and love.”
The Heart of the Father
This word is not about exposure — it’s about healing. The Father is not looking to destroy His Church; He is looking to restore His Bride. He’s calling us to see what He sees — not with judgment, but with tears. He’s raising up those who will not move on from pain, but will carry His heart until healing comes.
The blood in the sanctuary is not only a symbol of wounds; it’s also a reminder of the blood of Jesus — the only thing powerful enough to cleanse, redeem, and restore what has been broken.
He’s calling for a Church that feels again. A Church that weeps again. A Church that loves again.
An Invitation to Weep with Him
If you’ve ever wept over the pain you’ve seen in the Church, know this: your tears are not wasted. They are intercession. You’re not standing outside the house — you’re standing in the heart of the Father.
He’s not asking you to fix it all; He’s asking you to feel again. To pray again. To see what He sees and respond with compassion. Revival won’t come through more performance or perfection — it will come through hearts washed in His tears.
“Return to Me with all your heart, with fasting, with weeping, and with mourning. Rend your heart and not your garments. Return to the Lord your God, for He is gracious and compassionate.” — Joel 2:12–13
“For it is time for judgment to begin with the house of God; and if it begins with us, what will the outcome be for those who do not obey the gospel of God?” — 1 Peter 4:17
“Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.” — Matthew 5:4
Closing Thought
The heart of the Father is still for His house — but He is cleaning it from the inside out. The shaking you see is not destruction; it’s mercy. The tears you cry are not weakness; they’re partnership with His love.
The blood in the sanctuary is not the end of the story — it’s the beginning of healing.
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.
In The Heart Of The Father 