Category Archives: Holy Spirit

Holy Spirit

Holy Fire of God

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There is a fire that the world cannot ignite, a flame that does not consume but purifies. It is not found in the noise of religion or in the pretense of performance. It is born in the sanctuary of surrender, in the stillness where the soul waits for God. It is the Holy Fire of God, and it is calling.

Beloved, let your heart be drawn back to the altar. Before revival ever sweeps the nations, it begins in the secret place. The altar must be rebuilt—not in stone, but in spirit. The sacrifices God seeks are not the burnt offerings of old, but the yielded life: the heart that says, “Not my will, but Yours be done.” There, in that place of humility, the fire descends.

Self-reflection: Have I given God access to every part of my life today—my plans, my schedule, my reactions? What would it look like to lay those on the altar this morning?

The Holy Fire of God is not a passing feeling. It is not a momentary excitement in the soul. It is the Spirit of the living God resting upon a life wholly surrendered. “He must increase, but I must decrease” (John 3:30, NASB). These are not the words of one reaching for greatness, but of one already consumed by glory. The lesser we become, the more He fills. The more He fills, the more the fire spreads.

There is no fire without thirst. “As the deer pants for the water brooks, so my soul pants for You, God. My soul thirsts for God, for the living God” (Psalm 42:1–2, NASB). This divine thirst is not satisfied by knowledge, nor quenched by tradition. It presses beyond comfort, past ritual, to the living waters promised by Yeshua: “The one who believes in Me, as the Scripture said, ‘From his innermost being will flow rivers of living water’”(John 7:38, NASB). This He spoke of the Spirit, who was to come.

Self-reflection: Am I spiritually thirsty—or have I learned to live dry? When I wake up, what am I hungering for more: God’s voice, or the noise of the world?

To thirst is to pursue. The Holy Fire of God rests where there is holy desperation. The one who hungers and thirsts for righteousness shall be filled—not with mere words, but with power. Not with empty motions, but with the presence of El Shaddai, the all-sufficient One.

And yet, the fire is not given to decorate a heart still cluttered with idols. “Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears My voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and will dine with him, and he with Me” (Revelation 3:20, NASB). He knocks on the door of the Church. He knocks on the door of the heart. But He will not enter without invitation. He waits for the room to be cleared—for burdens to be laid down, for crowns to be surrendered, for distractions to be cast aside. When the heart makes room, the fire falls.

Self-reflection: What am I holding onto that is crowding out God’s presence? Have I created space in my day for Him to speak, or is He still knocking, waiting to be welcomed in?

The fire also burns in the sacred place. It does not always roar; sometimes it glows in quiet glory. “Be still, and know that I am God” (Psalm 46:10, NASB). There is a fire in stillness, in reverent silence, in the place where the soul is stilled before the majesty of El Elyon, the Most High. Here, the fire does not shout—it speaks in the whisper. It consumes not with noise, but with nearness.

Self-reflection: Do I ever sit quietly in God’s presence, with no agenda? When is the last time I was still and simply listened for His voice?

And in that sacred place, He draws us to the table. “Is the cup of blessing which we bless not a sharing in the blood of Christ? Is the bread which we break not a sharing in the body of Christ?” (1 Corinthians 10:16, NASB). To partake of communion is not to remember only—it is to participate, to enter into the mystery of covenant. The table is more than remembrance. It is a meeting place. The Holy Fire of God is in the covenant, for the blood that was shed still speaks, still calls, still covers.

Self-reflection: How do I honor the covenant of Christ in my daily life? When I eat and drink, do I remember Him only in ritual—or do I live like His blood has changed everything?

But this fire, Beloved, is not meant to stay within. It must break out. It must leap from soul to soul, from gathering to gathering, until the Church becomes a flame in the night. Walls must fall. Ceilings must break. Traditions must tremble before the power of the Spirit. The wind that once rushed through the upper room has not ceased. The tongues of fire that rested on the early disciples have not faded. Heaven still longs to come down.

Self-reflection: Does the fire of God in me spill over into others? Who have I prayed for today? When have I let the Spirit lead me to act, speak, or give beyond myself?

The fire sanctifies. It cleanses. It compels. It says, “Enough with apathy. Enough with passivity. Enough with compromise.” It is not content with weekend religion. It does not abide lukewarm hearts. It seeks the altar of total devotion.

Yeshua does not send His Spirit to comfort the unshaken, but to awaken the slumbering. “Do not quench the Spirit,” Paul writes (1 Thessalonians 5:19, NASB). But how often has the Church traded fire for form, power for politeness, glory for entertainment? The Holy Fire of God does not abide where it is tolerated. It burns where it is welcomed.

So awaken, soul. Fan the flame again. Let your heart become the altar. Let your worship rise like incense, your obedience like kindling. Let every song be a prayer, every breath a surrender, every act of love a spark. For the fire of God is not far. It waits to descend. It waits to consume. It waits to inhabit.

And when it does—when the altar is rebuilt, when the fire falls again—the world will not be able to deny it. They may not understand it. They may not explain it. But they will see it. A Church ablaze cannot be hidden. A people on fire cannot be ignored.

Self-reflection: Am I willing to look foolish to be faithful? Do I still care more about approval or more about fire?

Beloved, return to the fire. Return to the place where your heart first burned with love for God. Let the embers be stirred. Let the Spirit fall afresh. Lay down the distractions. Open the door. Make room. Be still. Partake of the cup. And let the fire burn again.

Prayer

Lord, I lay my heart on the altar. I offer every part of me—my thoughts, my will, my desires—as a living sacrifice. Come and set a fire in my soul that cannot be quenched. Cleanse me with Your holy flame. Burn away every impurity and draw me deeper into Your presence. I thirst for You, O God. I hunger for more. Let Your Spirit rest on me, and let Your fire break out through me, for the sake of Your name and Your glory. In Yeshua’s name, Amen.

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Holy Spirit

More and More of the Holy Spirit

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Less and Less of Ourselves

“Whoever has ears, let them hear what the Spirit says to the churches.” (Revelation 2:29, AMP)

Seven times, the risen Christ echoes this cry to His people in Revelation. He is not speaking to the pagan, the secular, or the atheist—He is speaking to His Church. “Let them hear” is not a suggestion. It is a summons. And in our generation, this voice still calls through the noise of entertainment-driven services and human-centered strategies: Return. Return to the Holy Spirit. Return to My presence.

The Church Needs More of the Holy Spirit

We have filled our pulpits with polish and our services with precision. We have hired professionals to counsel where the Wonderful Counselor once ministered. We lean on budgets instead of boldness, on marketing instead of the manifestation of the Spirit (1 Corinthians 12:7, NASB). But no spiritual fruit can grow apart from the Vine, and no ministry can be fruitful without the Spirit of God.

“Not by might, nor by power, but by My Spirit,” says the Lord of hosts (Zechariah 4:6, AMP). This is not outdated counsel—it is the very pattern of divine work. Yeshua did nothing independently of the Holy Spirit. At His baptism, the heavens opened, and the Spirit descended upon Him like a dove (Matthew 3:16). From that moment, He moved in the power of the Spirit (Luke 4:14), and only then did He declare, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon Me, because He has anointed Me” (Luke 4:18, NASB).

If the Son of God waited for the anointing, who are we to operate without it?

More of the Spirit, Less of Ourselves

We are not called to merely imitate Christ—we are called to be filled as He was filled. “Do not get drunk with wine…but be filled with the Spirit” (Ephesians 5:18, NASB). The Greek tense here means continual filling. Why? Because the vessels leak. Because we run dry. Because ministry in the flesh produces only fatigue, but ministry in the Spirit produces fruit (Galatians 5:22–23).

The Apostle Paul was gripped by this truth. He reminded the Corinthians that his preaching was “not with persuasive words of wisdom, but with a demonstration of the Spirit and of power” (1 Corinthians 2:4, NASB). Why? “So that your faith would not rest on the wisdom of mankind, but on the power of God” (v. 5). This is what the Church must recover—faith that rests on the Spirit’s power, not man’s intellect.

Among the Seven: One Lamp Unlit — A Silent Warning to the Church at Sardis Let those who have ears hear what the Spirit says to the churches.

A Rebuke to a Church that Has Forgotten

Yeshua rebuked the church in Sardis, saying, “You have a name that you are alive, and yet you are dead” (Revelation 3:1, NASB). How many churches today appear lively, yet are spiritually dry? Lights, crowds, movement—yet no flame from heaven. This is a warning to us. Have we exchanged the breath of the Spirit for the applause of men?

When God warned the prophet Ezekiel, He said, “Son of man, these men have set up their idols in their hearts…” (Ezekiel 14:3, NASB). The idol may not be Baal or Asherah—it may be strategy, personality, numbers, influence. Whatever displaces the Spirit is an idol, and God will not share His glory (Isaiah 42:8).

A Return to Holy Dependence

The early Church did not move without the Spirit. When they chose leaders, it “seemed good to the Holy Spirit and to us” (Acts 15:28, NASB). When they preached, the Spirit cut hearts (Acts 2:37). When they prayed, the place shook and they were filled again (Acts 4:31). This is not mythology. This is the blueprint. And God has not changed.

What has changed is our tolerance for powerlessness. We are content with motion, even if there is no presence. But Moses said, “If Your presence does not go with us, do not lead us up from here” (Exodus 33:15, NASB). Let that cry return to our pulpits, our prayer meetings, our planning rooms: “God, we will not move without You!”

The Lampstand Without Oil

In Zechariah 4, the prophet sees a golden lampstand with a bowl on top and seven lamps. But this vision includes two olive trees feeding oil into the bowl—a picture of continual supply. The angel explains: “Not by might, nor by power, but by My Spirit.” Without the oil, the lamp goes dark. Without the Holy Spirit, the Church flickers and fades.

We are not called to shine by our own strength. The oil must flow again.

O Flame who fell on trembling men,
Descend and fill Your house again.
Not skill, nor plans, nor noble name,
But Spirit-born, consuming flame.

A Call to the Church

Church of Jesus Christ, hear what the Spirit says.

The Lord is calling you back. He is not impressed with our systems, our celebrity leaders, or our technological savvy. He is looking for a people who will tremble at His Word (Isaiah 66:2), who will walk by the Spirit (Galatians 5:16), and who will cry out for His presence above all else.

The time for entertainment is over. The time for powerless religion is past. Judgment begins in the house of God (1 Peter 4:17), and He is looking for churches that will once again host His Spirit in reverence and awe. Return to the Holy Spirit. Return to prayer. Return to waiting. Return to trembling. Return to Him.

Prayer

Holy Spirit, we have tried to lead without listening. We have planned without prayer. We have spoken without waiting. We repent. Return to Your temple, Lord. Cleanse what we’ve corrupted. We do not want revival for the sake of fame, but for the sake of Your glory. Breathe on us again. Let our churches burn with Your fire, and let our hearts be wholly Yours. More of You, Holy Spirit—more and more. And less of us. Amen.

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Holy Spirit, Power

Fire Shut Up in My Bones

A Holy Fire That Cannot Be Contained

Beloved, there is a fire that does not come from man. It cannot be stirred up by music or forced by emotion. It descends from heaven. It rests on those who tremble at the Word. It burns in the soul of those who have seen the face of God and cannot remain silent. It is the fire shut up in the bones.

The prophet Jeremiah cried out in anguish, “But if I say, ‘I will not remember Him or speak anymore in His name,’ then my heart becomes a burning fire shut up in my bones; and I am tired of holding it in, and I cannot endure it” (Jeremiah 20:9, NASB). This was not the complaint of a man seeking attention. This was the groan of one possessed by the Word of the Lord. The message was not something he carried—it carried him.

When the Spirit of God dwells in you, He does not come to sit quietly. He comes with flame. He comes with weight. He is not an accessory to your life—He is your life. “In Him we live and move and exist” (Acts 17:28, NASB). If He does not breathe into us, we are dust. If He does not speak, we are lost. If He does not move, we are powerless. We are utterly dependent on Him for all things.

This holy fire reveals our nothingness apart from Him and fills us with the fullness of His presence. And oh, the joy of knowing we are His! Not because we are strong, but because He is faithful. Not because we are worthy, but because He is rich in mercy.

The Power of the Word

And when that fire takes hold of you, you cannot help but overflow.

Like David, who cried, “My heart was hot within me, while I was musing the fire burned; then I spoke with my tongue” (Psalm 39:3, NASB), you will not contain the praise. The praise will contain you. Like the apostles, who declared, “We cannot stop speaking about what we have seen and heard” (Acts 4:20, NASB), your life will become a living testimony. Not because you try to evangelize—but because the flame in you draws the cold and the broken near.

Unbelievers will be pulled by the light. They will ask, “What is this joy that burns in you? What is this peace that does not flicker? What is this love that consumes fear?” And you will tell them: It is Yeshua, the Lamb who was slain and now reigns in glory. He set me ablaze. He is my fire, my breath, my song.

This fire is not a passing feeling. It is not a temporary high. It is the mark of those who have been with Jesus. It is the seal of those who are crucified with Him and yet live—not they themselves, but Messiah in them. (Galatians 2:20)

When God sets you on fire, you will burn with love that intercedes, with truth that pierces, and with mercy that welcomes. You will long not only to dwell in the secret place but to call others into it. The fire in your bones is not only for you—it is for the nations.

And that fire will not be quenched. The more you give, the more He fills. The more you pour, the more you overflow. And what you cannot contain becomes your witness. It becomes your worship. It becomes the sound of heaven through a yielded vessel.

So cry out if you must. Shout if you must. Dance if you must. Let the fire speak. Let it be said of you, “This one burns for God.”

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You lit a fire I cannot still,
It burns through flesh and breaks my will.
It roars with love and speaks Your name—
Until the world beholds Your flame.

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Closing Prayer:

Yeshua, You alone are life. I have no breath apart from You. No strength. No hope. No light. Set me ablaze with holy fire, that my bones may not rest until You are glorified in all the earth. Let the overflow of Your Spirit in me draw the lost, heal the broken, and exalt Your name. I lay myself at Your feet in total dependence—consume me with Your presence. In the name of the Risen One, amen.

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Holy Spirit

The Spirit’s Judgment

Walking in the Light Beyond Human Opinion

“But the one who is spiritual evaluates all things, yet he himself is evaluated by no one.” — 1 Corinthians 2:15, NASB

The man or woman filled with the Holy Spirit is governed not by the opinions of this world, but by the mind of Christ. “We have received not the spirit of the world, but the Spirit who is from God, so that we may know the things freely given to us by God” (1 Corinthians 2:12, NASB). This Spirit-illumined life allows us to see, discern, and judge—not by fleshly instinct, but by eternal truth.

This means our worldview must be shaped not by culture or consensus, but by the Word of God applied through the Spirit of God. The Spirit’s judgment is not mere intellect—it is illumination. It is the light of the Lord causing our hearts to perceive what cannot be seen by human eyes. “Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path.” (Psalm 119:105, NASB)

The Spiritual Man Is a Miracle

Scripture makes it clear: “The natural person does not accept the things of the Spirit of God, for they are foolishness to him; and he cannot understand them, because they are spiritually discerned.” (1 Corinthians 2:14, NASB) The one who walks in the Spirit is a mystery to the world. Their decisions seem odd, their standards strange. But they are living by a different wisdom—a wisdom from above. “But the wisdom from above is first pure, then peace-loving, gentle, reasonable, full of mercy and good fruits…” (James 3:17, NASB)

This is not a self-made man, but a Spirit-born one. “That which is born of the flesh is flesh, and that which is born of the Spirit is spirit.” (John 3:6, NASB) He is a stranger to the world because he has been made new—“Therefore if anyone is in Christ, this person is a new creation; the old things passed away; behold, new things have come.” (2 Corinthians 5:17, NASB)

Beyond the Veil, at the Feet of Jesus

We cannot walk in the Spirit’s judgment unless we press beyond the veil into intimacy with God. The old man cannot enter there. “Who may ascend onto the hill of the Lord? And who may stand in His holy place? One who has clean hands and a pure heart…” (Psalm 24:3–4, NASB)

There, in the secret place, the Spirit teaches us. “But the Helper, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in My name, He will teach you all things…” (John 14:26, NASB). We begin to see people, situations, even our own hearts with fresh clarity. The Spirit’s judgment gives us God’s perspective. “For the Lord does not see as man sees, since man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.” (1 Samuel 16:7, NASB)

The Warning and the Comfort

Some wrestle with deep fear—“Have I committed the unpardonable sin?” Yeshua warned the Pharisees in Mark 3:29 that “whoever blasphemes against the Holy Spirit never has forgiveness.” But what marked them? Hardness. Pride. A refusal to acknowledge the work of God. Their eyes were blind, their hearts cold.

If you tremble, if you weep, if you worry—that very fear is proof that the Spirit is still working in you. “A broken and a contrite heart, God, You will not despise.” (Psalm 51:17, NASB) Conviction is a gift; apathy is the danger. As Hebrews reminds us, “Today, if you hear His voice, do not harden your hearts…” (Hebrews 3:15, NASB)

The Spirit doesn’t come to condemn the believer, but to correct, lead, and restore. “For God did not send the Son into the world to judge the world, but so that the world might be saved through Him.” (John 3:17, NASB) If you are convicted of sin, rejoice: God is still drawing you. Run to Him.

The world may speak, but I will stand,
With eyes alight by Spirit’s hand.
Their wisdom fades, their words grow dim,
For I have learned to walk with Him.

Prayer

Holy God, thank You for the Spirit who searches all things—even the deep things of You. I repent of leaning on my own understanding. Teach me to live by the Spirit’s judgment, not by what is seen, but by what You have revealed. May my life reflect heaven’s values and not earth’s applause. Let the mind of Christ dwell richly in me. Strengthen me to walk as one set apart—full of mercy, truth, and light. In the name of Yeshua, amen.

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Holy Spirit

Hold Fast to the Lord

Walking in Spirit-Revealed Obedience

“It is the LORD your God you must follow, and Him you must revere. Keep His commands and obey Him; serve Him and hold fast to Him.”
—Deuteronomy 13:4 (NASB)*

Beloved, we who have tasted the goodness of the Lord are not called to casual devotion, but to Spirit-revealed obedience. When El Shaddai breathes life into our dead spirits and awakens us by regeneration, He begins a holy preparation that lasts a lifetime. This journey is not fueled by fear but by reverent love—a response to the One who made us new.

Yeshua told Nicodemus that no one could enter the Kingdom unless they were born from above. And once born of the Spirit, we must no longer walk according to the flesh. The call is clear: Follow the LORD, revere Him, obey Him, serve Him, and hold fast to Him. Each phrase in Deuteronomy 13:4 is a step along the ancient path. But this path is hidden from the proud and self-sufficient. It is only visible to those whose eyes have been opened by the Spirit of God.

“To this John replied, ‘A person can receive only what is given them from heaven.’”
—John 3:27 (NASB)*

This is the humility that opens the door to divine encounter. John the Baptist, the forerunner of Messiah, knew his place. He did not grasp at position or power. He received what was given. So must we. The mysteries of God are not unlocked by cleverness or seminary degrees but by Spirit-revealed insight. Many stand before a wall of theology—doctrine stacked high like bricks—yet never find the gate. Without the Spirit, knowledge becomes cold and heavy. With the Spirit, truth becomes living fire.

Return to the Lord in brokenness

God’s Kingdom is not a showcase of mediocrity, nor a democracy of lukewarm hearts. It is a throne room filled with glory, where only the holy dare tread. And we are made holy—not by our effort—but by the blood of the Lamb and the fire of His Spirit. This is why we must hold fast. Not to our plans. Not to tradition. Not to mere form. But to God Himself. His commands are not burdensome when His Spirit writes them on our hearts. His service becomes our joy when love compels us.

Why, then, would we resist such a path? Why would we lower the high call of God to fit our comfort? God’s intentions for us are always rooted in His eternal love and creative power. He sees potential in us that sin buried. But the Spirit awakens it. We were not made for the shallow waters of religion. We were made to walk in the deep, where God speaks, moves, and dwells with His people.

“Things which eye has not seen and ear has not heard,
And which have not entered the human heart,
All that God has prepared for those who love Him.”
—1 Corinthians 2:9 (NASB)

This is our inheritance: Spirit-revealed truth, Spirit-empowered obedience, Spirit-filled life. Let us not settle for surface knowledge. Let us seek the fire that reveals the face of Yeshua. Let us cling to the LORD—not casually, but with the grip of holy desperation. Hold fast. Follow. Revere. Obey. Serve.

The Spirit is still speaking. Will you listen?

“He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches.”
— Revelation 2:7, 2:11, 2:17, 2:29, 3:6, 3:13, and 3:22 (NASB)

Prayer

Loving Lord, thank You for making me new by the power of Your Spirit. Awaken every buried promise and every slumbering gift within me. I want to walk in Spirit-revealed obedience. I long to know You not only in mind but in truth. Keep me close, Lord. Let me not wander or grow numb. Instead, draw me deeper, that I may hold fast to You in every season. In the name of Yeshua, I pray. Amen.

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fasting, Holy Spirit, Prayers, Visions

The Day the Fire Fell

A First-Hand Pentecost Vision

I saw it in a vision.

The Lord opened my eyes, and I stood among them, unseen yet present. I could feel the weight of the room—the thick air, the groaning of souls. It was as if I had been carried back through time, placed within the trembling walls of the upper room, where one hundred and twenty waited. Their faces were worn, desperate. Their knees pressed into the cold stone, and the air crackled with a hunger words could not express.

The walls, ancient and heavy with the dust of centuries, seemed to lean in with the prayers. I watched as lips moved without sound, tears ran unashamed, and hands gripped the hem of heaven itself. The Lord had told them: “Stay in the city until you are clothed with power from on high” (Luke 24:49, NASB). And so they waited—not with passivity, but with a fervent, breaking cry.

The sun climbed higher, pouring light through small windows, illuminating swirling motes of dust. The scent of sweat and worn garments filled the air. Yet no one moved for food, no one reached for water. Their thirst was for God alone. I watched a woman collapse against the floor, her face pressed into the stone, whispering one word over and over: “Abba.”

It was not a gathering of the strong. It was an altar of the broken.

Believers gathered in deep intercessory prayer, lifting silent groanings before God, surrounded by symbols of His covenant promises.

Time passed. Hours. The desperation deepened until it was almost a sound itself—a low hum of hunger in the spirit. Peter knelt with his face buried in his hands, his shoulders shaking. I could hear his low plea, “Lord, we have nothing left but You.”

That’s when it came.

A sound—first distant, like a storm gathering beyond the hills—then rushing inward, swift and mighty. It was not the wind of earth but the breath of heaven (Acts 2:2). The stones underfoot trembled. Garments fluttered as if caught in a gale, though the air was still.

The roar filled every corner.

God in the Fire

And then, fire.

It appeared, bright as the sun, fierce and holy. Tongues of flame, living and alive, danced above each head (Acts 2:3). Yet it did not burn. It filled. I saw it—how it sank into them, how their faces lifted, eyes wide, mouths opening with sounds no man had taught them.

The Spirit Himself had come.

They spoke in languages of men and angels. Words of praise, of glory, of the mighty deeds of God poured from their lips. Some wept, undone. Others lifted their hands, faces shining. Some laughed with a joy deeper than any suffering they had known (Nehemiah 8:10). The fire had not only touched them—it claimed them.

I watched as the Spirit pressed them outward, stumbling into the streets. The city gathered quickly, drawn by the uproar. Men from every nation under heaven stared in wonder as these simple, broken vessels proclaimed the glory of God in languages not their own. Parthians, Medes, Egyptians, Romans—all heard the wonders of God in their own tongue.

And then Peter—bold, blazing—stepped forward. I heard his voice, strong and certain, rise above the clamor:

“Repent, and each of you be baptized in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins; and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit” (Acts 2:38, NASB).

The fire leapt from heart to heart.

Three thousand souls were swept into the kingdom that day.

And still, as I stood there, unseen but seeing, I knew: this was not the end. The fire was not meant for one day, one room. It was a beginning. A first spark of a blaze that would run to the ends of the earth.

I could feel it even as the vision faded—the fire has never gone out. It burns still. And for those who dare to wait, who dare to hunger, the Spirit will fall again.

Prayer:

O Lord God, El Shaddai, let us be among those who hunger for You with all our hearts. Pour out Your Spirit anew, ignite the fire within us. May we lay down every burden, every pride, every sin, until only You remain. Come, Holy Spirit, breathe on us. Let the sound of heaven once again fill our hearts and homes. In the mighty name of Yeshua, we pray. Amen.

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See Also

Holy Spirit, Prayers, Unity

Pentecost: A Call to Absolute Reliance on God

When the day of Pentecost had fully come, the disciples were not busy making plans or debating strategies. They were hidden away, hearts low to the ground, souls turned upward. “When the day of Pentecost had come, they were all together in one place” (Acts 2:1, NASB). They were not idle. They engaged in tear-soaked prayer—quiet, desperate, persistent prayer in the Upper Room (Acts 1:14, NASB). Pentecost teaches us that absolute reliance on God begins not with action but with prayer.

Prayer was not an afterthought; it was the furnace where their dependence was forged. In the Upper Room, they wept, waited, and wore the floor thin with their knees. They had no other plan. They had no fallback. The strength to fulfill the Great Commission could not be conjured by willpower—it had to be born in prayer. If we are to learn anything from Pentecost today, it is this: we must return to the Upper Room posture. Absolute reliance on God means sinking to our knees and refusing to rise until He answers.

In our generation, prayer is often the last resort. We strategize first, act second, and pray third. Pentecost rebukes this order. The fire of God falls on soaked altars, on lives marinated in the secret place. Prayer must again become our lifeblood, not a hurried sentence but the slow, aching cry of a heart desperate for Him. The world tells us to be busy; Pentecost calls us to be still before El Shaddai, the All-Sufficient One, and wait for His power.

Pentecost also reminds us that prayer is corporate as well as personal. “These all with one mind were continually devoting themselves to prayer…” (Acts 1:14, NASB). They were of one accord—not arguing about doctrinal differences, not boasting, “I follow Paul,” or “I follow Apollos.” Their hearts were knit together in humility and dependence. Division would have quenched the Spirit before He even came. In that upper room, the Spirit of God found a vessel unified and emptied.

And what was the cry of their hearts? These disciples, hunted and threatened, did not ask for protection. They did not pray, “Lord, send angels to defend us,” or “Deliver us from our enemies.” They prayed for boldness—the holy courage to preach the gospel without fear (Acts 4:29, NASB). Absolute reliance on God means trusting not in physical safety but in the triumph of His Word. They understood what it meant to be crucified with Christ. Their lives were already laid down; they sought only the strength to proclaim the Name of Yeshua boldly, even unto death.

The Church today must recover this fearless heart. If we long for revival, we must pray not for ease but for fire—not for comfort but for courage. Absolute reliance on God means trusting Him to sustain, strengthen, and embolden us when the world rages against us. God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and love and sound judgment (2 Timothy 1:7, NASB).

Beloved, the lesson of Pentecost is clear: if we are to walk in the power of the Spirit, we must first kneel in utter dependence. Absolute reliance on God is not passive—it is an active, unyielding trust formed in the furnace of prayer. Like the disciples, we must forsake all other hopes, all other strengths, and look only to Him who promised, “You will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you” (Acts 1:8, NASB).

Our world is desperate for revival, but revival will not come through clever sermons or polished programs. Revival will be born when men and women of God are found once again in Upper Rooms, floors damp with tears, hearts lifted like incense. Pentecost calls us to be that generation.

Self-Reflection: Walking in Absolute Reliance on God

For the Believer:

  • Am I seeking the fire of God through tear-soaked prayer or am I relying on my own strength?
  • When fear rises, do I pray for protection, or do I ask God for boldness to proclaim His Name?
  • Have I set aside personal ambitions to become fully dependent on El Shaddai, the All-Sufficient One?
  • Is my heart unified with my brothers and sisters, or is division hindering the move of the Spirit in my life?

For the Local Congregation:

  • Are we a church of prayer or a church of programs?
  • Have we created an Upper Room culture where dependence on the Spirit is our first response?
  • Do we spend more time strategizing or more time seeking the face of God together?
  • Is boldness to preach the Gospel part of our prayers, or have we settled for safety and comfort?

For the Denomination:

  • Are we leaning on heritage and tradition, or are we actively dependent on the living Spirit of God?
  • Are we unified in mission and spirit, or divided by secondary matters that grieve the Holy Spirit?
  • Have we lost our boldness, forgetting the fearless prayers of the early Church?
  • How will our generation be remembered — as those who sought revival through prayer and unity, or as those who trusted in human plans?

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Prayer

O Sovereign Lord, we come to You stripped of all pretense and power. Teach us again to wait before You in prayer, to soak the ground with tears, to hunger for nothing but Your presence. Forgive us for trusting in our strength and teach us absolute reliance on You. Birth in us the Upper Room cry, the unrelenting groan for Your Spirit. And when You come, Lord, grant us boldness—not comfort, not safety—but boldness to declare Your Word without fear. May our lives be the altar, and may Your fire fall again. In the mighty name of Yeshua, we pray. Amen.

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See Also

Holy Spirit

Boldness in the Presence of God

A Call to the Fearless

This word was born last night at the Pray West Boylston prayer meeting at Freedom Worship Center, and was sparked in part by a message two Sundays ago by Samuel Maisonet, formerly of Faith Church in Auburn. It is a word for now — for you, beloved of God.

The world trembles at the sound of danger. Men pray for safety; hearts seek shelter. But I write to you, beloved, that you would not pray as the world prays. You are called higher. You are summoned to boldness in the presence of God.

When the early Church faced threats — real threats of death and imprisonment — they did not plead for protection. They did not beg to be hidden. They lifted their voices and cried:

“And now, Lord, take note of their threats, and grant that Your bond-servants may speak Your word with all confidence.” — Acts 4:29 (NASB)

The ground beneath them shook. Heaven answered with fire. They were filled again with the Holy Spirit. They spoke the Word of God with boldness, not fear.

But boldness is not born of flesh. It is born in the presence of God.

Come and see the prophet Isaiah. He was drawn up to the heights of heaven, where the Lord sat enthroned, high and lifted up. Seraphim circled and cried:

“Holy, Holy, Holy is the LORD of armies, The whole earth is full of His glory.” — Isaiah 6:3 (NASB)

Before the healing comes, the jar must break. This is where revival begins—on our faces, with nothing held back.
She broke her jar—and with it, her pride, her plans, her past. Only in surrender can the fragrance rise. This is where healing begins.

Isaiah fell on his face:

“Woe to me, for I am ruined! Because I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips; for my eyes have seen the King, the LORD of armies.” — Isaiah 6:5 (NASB)

The fire of God touched him. His guilt was taken away. His sin was atoned for. Then — only then — did he hear the voice of the Lord:

“Whom shall I send, and who will go for Us?” — Isaiah 6:8 (NASB)

Return to the Lord in brokenness

Beloved, Isaiah did not hesitate. His heart, once trembling, now burned. He answered:

“Here am I. Send me!” — Isaiah 6:8 (NASB)

This is the secret: Boldness comes after brokenness. Confidence is born from cleansing. You cannot stand fearless before men until you have bowed low before God.

Boldness in the presence of God is not arrogance — it is holiness on fire. It is the soul washed clean by the blood of Yeshua, the lips purified by His mercy, the heart inflamed by His Spirit. It is the Church, shaken but unshaken. It is the believer, trembling but bold.

And understand this: When God speaks, His command is often 180 degrees opposite to human logic. Where we would pray for protection, He calls us to pray for boldness. Where we would build walls, He calls us to tear them down with His love. His ways are not our ways — they are higher.

“For My thoughts are not your thoughts, Nor are your ways My ways,” declares the LORD. — Isaiah 55:8 (NASB)

“Whoever wants to save his life will lose it; but whoever loses his life for My sake will find it.” — Matthew 16:25 (NASB)

Boldness is not reckless noise; it is love in motion. Last night, the Spirit whispered a deeper truth: it is not only God’s love that draws people — it is God’s love in us. The world will not be won by arguments or anger, but by a bold, visible love that cannot be denied. The true disciple goes out in love and shines. They see Yeshua in us.

As the song “Send Me” by Bethel Music so beautifully sings:

“And before You even ask, oh my answer will be yes.”

This is the posture of boldness: a surrendered yes before the question is even asked.

Will you not come? Will you not enter the presence of the Most High? Will you not fall before Him and be made new?

Do not pray merely for safety. Pray for boldness.
Do not ask merely for comfort. Ask to be sent.
Do not walk in mere knowledge. Walk in love.

The Lord is asking even now:

“Whom shall I send, and who will go for Us?”

Let the cry rise from your cleansed lips:

“Here am I. Send me!”

The world is waiting for the fearless.
The lost are waiting for the loved.
Heaven is waiting for the willing.
The Lord of Glory is waiting for you.

From trembling knees to lion’s roar,
You lift my voice to heights unknown.
In fire and cloud, You speak once more —
The King of Glory claims His own.

Closing Prayer

O Holy Father, El Shaddai,

I come trembling before Your throne. Cleanse my heart with Your holy fire; purify my lips with Your coal. Let every fear be burned away by Your presence. Let every weakness be clothed in Your strength.

Fill me, O Lord, with the power of Your Spirit. Let boldness rise where once there was fear. Let Your love overflow from my heart. Let my voice proclaim the name of Yeshua without shrinking back. Grant me the courage to answer when You call, to stand firm when others fall away, to speak when silence tempts me.

Here I am, Lord — send me.
Here I am, Lord — fill me.
Here I am, Lord — use me for Your glory.

In the mighty name of Yeshua, the King of kings,

Amen.

See Also

Holy Spirit

Where Is the Fire? 

A Call to Live by the Spirit

Oh, for that flame of living fire! The ancient hymn sighs with longing, its words almost lost to a generation numb to holy passion. Where is that Spirit, Lord, which once set the hearts of saints ablaze, which filled prophets with boldness and caused apostles to endure shipwreck, hunger, and sword with unwavering joy?

We must ask ourselves, Where is the fire? And we must answer honestly. The fire of the Spirit has not vanished; it has simply been replaced — replaced by comfort, self-interest, and a cross-less Christianity. The Apostle Paul gave the key when he declared: “But far be it from me to boast, except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, through which the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world.” (Galatians 6:14, NASB)

If we desire to live by the Spirit as those saints did, we must return to the cross. There is no shortcut. There is no modern substitute.

Living by the Spirit Begins at the Cross

To live by the Spirit is to first die at the cross. Jesus said plainly, “If anyone wants to come after Me, he must deny himself, take up his cross daily, and follow Me.” (Luke 9:23, NASB) To live under the Spirit’s rule moment by moment, we must let the cross do its work, severing our attachment to the world and emptying us of self.

Many today want the fire without the altar. But Scripture is clear: “Present your bodies as a living and holy sacrifice, acceptable to God, which is your spiritual service of worship.”(Romans 12:1, NASB) Without sacrifice, there is no fire.

Living by the Spirit today looks like surrender — absolute, unrelenting, joyful surrender. It is not a Sunday activity but a daily death. It is the laying down of plans, the renouncing of pride, the crucifying of comfort.

What Living by the Spirit Looks Like Today

To live by the Spirit in today’s world is to walk in conscious, continual submission to God’s voice. It is a life that bears the fruit of the Spirit: “love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control.” (Galatians 5:22-23, NASB)

It looks like believers who are bold in their witness, unashamed of the gospel, as Paul was when he wrote, “For I am not ashamed of the gospel, for it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes.” (Romans 1:16, NASB)

It looks like saints who are not driven by fear or anxiety, but who trust wholly in God’s providence: “Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and pleading with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.” (Philippians 4:6, NASB)

It looks like households where prayer is not an afterthought, but the breath of the home. It looks like workplaces where integrity shines, conversations where grace abounds, and lives so surrendered that the fragrance of Christ follows everywhere they go.

A community gathered in Spirit-led worship, encircling the fire—symbol of God’s presence—each heart lifted in surrender and awe before the Lord.

Why Has the Fire Diminished?

Why must we ask, “Where is that Spirit, Lord?” It is because we have settled for a form of godliness without its power (2 Timothy 3:5). We have exchanged the Spirit’s fire for the world’s approval. We have chosen safety over surrender.

The saints of old walked in the power of the Spirit because they first walked the narrow way of the cross. They were crucified to the world, dead to its charms, and alive only to God.

If we would regain the fire, we must return to that narrow path. Jesus warned, “Enter through the narrow gate; for the gate is wide and the way is broad that leads to destruction, and there are many who enter through it.” (Matthew 7:13, NASB)

A Call to Rekindle the Flame

Where is the fire? It waits for those willing to lay all on the altar. It waits for those who will take up the cross daily, die to self, and live by the Spirit.

Today, the call is urgent. Lay down your life anew. Present yourself as a living sacrifice. Crucify the flesh with its passions and desires (Galatians 5:24). Boast only in the cross of Christ, and watch as the fire returns — not as a flickering candle, but as a consuming blaze.

We need not sigh with nostalgia for a bygone era. The Spirit has not changed. “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today, and forever.” (Hebrews 13:8, NASB) His fire still falls — but only where there is fuel. Only where there is surrender.

Let us forsake the comforts of this world and seek the face of El Shaddai. Let us live by the Spirit, moment by moment, breath by breath, until our lives burn as living sacrifices, holy and acceptable to God.

Then, and only then, will the world look at the Church and see not a hollow religion, but a living fire.

Closing Prayer

Lord Yeshua, we kneel at the foot of Your cross. Crucify our pride, our comfort, our idols. Set our hearts ablaze with the fire of Your Spirit. Let us live by the Spirit, walking in the steps You have marked out for us. May our lives be living flames, drawing all men to You. Amen.

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See Also

Holy Spirit

Walking According to the Spirit

Beloved, I write to you not with the wisdom of this world but with the truth breathed by the Spirit of God. If you belong to Yeshua, you are no longer bound to the flesh. Walking according to the Spirit means you are called to live by the Spirit, filled with reverent fear, yet overflowing with the joy of adoption. This is not a contradiction. It is the mystery of faith. The child of God draws near with confidence, yet his soul trembles before the holiness of El Shaddai. He knows both mercy and majesty, intimacy and awe.

The Law once condemned us, yet now its righteous requirement is fulfilled in us who walk by the Spirit (Romans 8:4, AMP). What once pointed out our guilt has now become the foundation of our freedom in Messiah. The Spirit, who moved across the waters in the beginning, now moves within the hearts of those who are born again. He does not make us fearful slaves. He gives us power, love, and soundness of mind (2 Timothy 1:7, NASB).

To walk according to the Spirit is to live in that divine tension. It is to worship with trembling lips and uplifted hands. It is to cry “Abba, Father” with the reverence of a servant and the joy of a son. The world cannot understand this. The natural man mocks what he cannot perceive. Even some in the Church fear what they cannot explain. Yet the Spirit of God has made His dwelling in us. We are the living temple. We are the delight of the Father.

Walking Free from Sin

Do not be surprised when the world calls you strange. You are set apart. You are holy. You are marked by the presence of Ruach HaKodesh. Angels marvel at your journey. Demons flee from your worship. You are no ordinary people. You are sons and daughters of the Most High.

Let your fellowship reflect the heart of God. Do not withhold love from those who are His. If they are washed in the blood, born of the Spirit, and walking with the Father, they are your family. Whether they sing in silence or shout with dancing, whether they gather in homes or sanctuaries, if they carry the name of Yeshua and bear His fruit, they are His and they are yours.

Let us walk according to the Spirit with reverent fear and great joy. Let the world see in us both the fire and the fragrance of Christ. Let us not be ashamed of the holy contradiction. Let us rejoice in it. For we are no longer of the flesh. We are filled with the Spirit, purified by His fire, and bound together in His love.

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With trembling joy I walk Your path,
A flame alight from holy breath.
You call me near, I bow in awe,
Alive in You, untouched by death.

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Prayer

Spirit of the Living God, thank You for making Your home in us. We tremble before Your majesty, yet we come boldly by the blood of Yeshua. Teach us to walk in reverence and power. Let Your love anchor us and Your truth guide us. Unite Your Church as one, born of the same Spirit and called to the same hope. Fill us with more of You, and strip away every part of us that clings to the flesh. In Yeshua’s name we pray, amen.

See Also