Tag Archives: Spiritual Growth

The Pulse of the Kingdom

Serving as the Lifeblood of the Body

Beloved, hear what the Spirit says to the Body: If serving is not flowing through you, then the heartbeat of the Kingdom is not in you. Let us examine ourselves—not to despair, but to return quickly to His side. It does not matter what we build, what we declare, or how loudly we sing—if the blood of the Lamb is in us, then the love of the Lamb must flow out of us. Serving as the pulse of the Kingdom is not a ministry—it is identity. It is not an action—it is a manifestation of union with Messiah.

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

We cannot be in Him and remain unmoved by need. We cannot abide in the Vine and bear no fruit. The moment the pulse stops, the Body collapses. So it is with every soul that ceases to serve. God is love. And love serves. This truth is not seasonal. It is eternal. It flows from the throne of God like a river, and wherever that river flows, it gives life.

Serving in Love

Serving in love and humility

A Servant King Rules the Kingdom

The Kingdom has a King—and He is not seated on a throne demanding honor. He is robed in humility, kneeling with a towel. Yeshua, Son of the Living God, stooped to wash feet not once but forever. And all who walk with Him will take the basin and follow. The true glory of God is revealed in this: He serves.

“If I, the Lord and the Teacher, washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet.”John 13:14, NASB

There is no crown without a cross, and there is no greatness without service. In the Kingdom, the lowest place is the nearest place to God. We descend to ascend. We give all to gain Him. If you have truly seen His face, you will long to pour yourself out for others. You will not ask, “Should I serve?” You will cry, “How can I love Him more?”

The Pulse Does Not Stop

Serving as the pulse of the Kingdom means it cannot be occasional. You cannot schedule a heartbeat. You cannot decide when it flows. This is why true service must be born of the Spirit—not pressure, not pride, not position. Only intimacy sustains the pulse.

“The love of Christ controls us, having concluded this, that one died for all…so that those who live would no longer live for themselves.”2 Corinthians 5:14-15, NASB

When you walk with the Servant-King, His love compels you. It moves in you like blood, pulsing life into the Church. It nourishes the Body. It warms cold hearts. It revives what religion has dried out. It finds the feet no one else will touch. It carries burdens no one else will see. Beloved, this is not a burden—it is the joy of those who dwell in Him.

The Church Lives When It Bleeds Love

The Church does not thrive by strategy or spectacle. She lives when she bleeds. Not with empty effort, but with the precious pulse of Heaven flowing through her members. When each one gives, when each one moves with the rhythm of the Spirit, the Body becomes radiant and whole.

“From Him the whole body…causes the growth of the body for the building up of itself in love.”Ephesians 4:16, NASB

You were not redeemed to rest in apathy—but to rest in Him, and rise in love. You were redeemed to rise and serve. He did not rescue you so you could observe—He saved you so that His life would become your own. This is not religion. This is resurrection. This is what it means to carry the pulse of the Kingdom within your chest.

We Are People of the Blood and the Basin

Do you not know? The blood that saved you is the same blood that calls you. He poured out everything—now He invites you to do the same. We are not people who admire the cross; we are people who take it up daily. We are not servants once—we are servants always.

Serving as the pulse of the Kingdom means we do not need recognition. We do not need applause. We only need Him. He is our portion. And if He stooped low, we will stoop lower still. The towel is not a lesser ministry. It is the ministry of Heaven. When we serve, we bear His likeness.

Flow through me, O pulse of grace, where mercy must be born—
Let every beat I offer serve the lost, the crushed, the torn.
If You have knelt, then so will I, until I see Your face—
And lift the low with nail-scarred hands, sustained by sacred pace.

The pulse of Heaven beats with love, and those who walk with Him cannot help but move.

Prayer

O Yeshua, Servant and King, awaken our hearts again to the holy call to serve. Forgive us when we have made worship about sound but not sacrifice. Let Your pulse be felt in us again—strong, steady, unstoppable. Make us people who wash feet in secret, who carry burdens with joy, and who serve not from duty but from love. Strip us of pride. Fill us with fire. Until Your whole Body lives and breathes and moves in the power of love. In Your holy Name, amen.

See Also

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
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.

See Also

Testimonies that Glorify God


Let God Be Glorified

Come and hear, all who fear God, and I will tell what He has done for my soul (Psalm 66:16, NASB).

This is the voice of one who has tasted the mercy of El Elyon and cannot remain silent. He does not draw attention to himself, but to the power of God. Every true testimony flows from this fountain—it glorifies God alone, not the one who speaks.

The Apostle John, who leaned against Yeshua’s chest and saw the glory of the Word made flesh, heard these words from Heaven: They overcame him because of the blood of the Lamb and because of the word of their testimony (Revelation 12:11, NASB). Notice where the victory rests. Not in strategy, eloquence, or charisma—but in the Lamb and what He has done. The testimony is not a platform for self—it is a declaration of God’s faithfulness and mercy.

Even our Savior warned, Beware of practicing your righteousness before men to be noticed by them (Matthew 6:1, NASB). The danger is not just in falsehood, but in misdirected truth—when we say the right things for the wrong reasons, and shift the spotlight onto ourselves.

Let Boasting Die at the Cross

The Apostle Paul could have boasted. His résumé was unmatched—zealous, learned, bold. Yet he said, Far be it from me to boast, except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ (Galatians 6:14, NASB). The cross is where all pride dies. It is where we remember that we were nothing, and He gave us everything. Any story that begins with “I did” must be reexamined. Let every true testimony begin with “God moved.”

Paul reminded the Corinthians, So then neither the one who plants nor the one who waters is anything, but God who causes the growth (1 Corinthians 3:7, NASB). We are nothing more than vessels—fragile, breakable, and utterly dependent on El Shaddai to fill us. Testimonies should cause awe, not applause. They should humble, not elevate. If we speak of answered prayers or miracles, let us speak as those trembling in the presence of a holy God.

Break you jar before the Lord
Before the healing comes, the jar must break. This is where revival begins—on our faces, with nothing held back.

Where Is the Power We Preach?

We have the Word. We memorize the verses. We know what to say. But where is the power? Where is the Presence? We talk about revival, but do we carry it? Yeshua said:

I assure you and most solemnly declare to you that anyone who believes in Me [as Savior] will also perform the same actions as I do. Moreover, they will accomplish even greater feats in scope and reach, for I am going to the Father. And I will do whatever you ask in My name [as My representative], this I will do, so that the Father may be glorified and celebrated in the Son. If you ask Me anything in My name [as My representative], I will do it (John 14:12–14, AMP).

We love to quote verse 15—If you [really] love Me, you will keep and obey My commandments—but are we living verses 12 through 14? We say we follow Him, but where is the fruit? Where is the unmistakable evidence of His power and Presence moving through us?

If we are honest, we must ask: Have we crafted denominations, doctrinal statements, and creeds to soothe our lack of faith? Are we building altars of reason because we have forgotten the fire of God? When Peter was in the Upper Room before Pentecost, he probably cried out, “Lord, we have nothing left but You.” Have we reached that place? Have we truly died to self?

Truly Dying to Self: A Forgotten Cry

What does it mean to truly die to self? We speak of it often, but do we live it? Picking up our crosses daily sounds poetic until obedience costs us something. Listening to His voice is inspiring until He asks us to release our comfort, our pride, or our reputation. Is there anyone alive today who can say, “I have been crucified with Christ, and it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me” (Galatians 2:20, NASB)?

If our hearts were truly right with God, these things would happen. Miracles would follow our prayers. Deliverance would spring from our declarations. Revival would not be a hope—it would be a holy eruption. The reason it doesn’t happen is not that God has changed. He is being true to His Word. He tests hearts. He purifies motives. He waits for a people who will make Him the center of their testimony, not themselves.

We need to keep pressing into Him, asking Him to search us and refine us. We must return to the altar, not to tell God what we’ve done, but to ask Him to reveal our motives so that we may be pure vessels. Our testimonies should reflect the cry of John the Baptist: He must increase, but I must decrease (John 3:30, NASB).

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.

Let Testimonies Burn with His Glory

Even our best obedience is not a trophy—it is a response. For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand so that we would walk in them (Ephesians 2:10, NASB). We are not the authors of greatness. We are the canvas upon which the Master Artist paints His glory.

Let every testimony burn with the truth: It was God. All of it. The mercy. The healing. The change. If He used us, it was not because we were worthy—it was because He is good.

Do not share to impress. Share to exalt. Let your testimony be a trembling offering that points upward, not inward. Speak not of how much faith you had, but how faithful El Olam was to you. Let the story glorify the Name above all names—Yeshua, the Lamb who was slain.

Let Us Pray

O El Shaddai, Mighty and All-Sufficient One,

We come before You with broken hearts, confessing how often we have spoken to be seen, shared to be praised, and testified to exalt ourselves. Forgive us, Lord. Purify our hearts, cleanse our lips, and strip away every hidden motive that does not glorify You.

Teach us what it means to truly die daily—to applause, to recognition, to the craving for man’s approval. Let our testimonies rise like holy incense—fragrant only because You have been faithful. Let them carry the weight of Your glory, not the weight of our names.

We lay our words at Your feet. Sanctify them. Let every syllable exalt the Name above all names—Yeshua, our Redeemer. Let our stories become songs of Your mercy, drawing hearts not to us, but to Your throne.

Burn away pride, expose every imitation, and silence the flesh. Let the fire of Your Spirit purify our witness until only Your power remains. And when we speak, let the world see not us, but You living through us.

We join with the saints, with the seraphim, and with all creation in one cry:

You alone are worthy.

Amen.

Made meek by the spirit
A weathered wooden cross stands silhouetted against a glowing sunset, marking the place where pride ends and surrender begins.

See Also

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?

Prayer

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.

See Also

Heart of Integrity

“So he shepherded them according to the integrity of his heart, and guided them with his skillful hands.”
(Psalm 78:72, NASB)

Beloved, the Lord is calling you to a higher way. As the morning light rises, He summons you to walk with a heart of integrity. The world shouts for performance, but the Father looks beyond the noise. He seeks those who will follow Him with a heart refined by truth and hands prepared by His Spirit.

Today, He speaks to you: Come higher. Come deeper. Come closer. Let the life of David be your example. David, though a king, was first a shepherd—unseen by man but seen by God. Scripture tells us, “Man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart” (1 Samuel 16:7, NASB). David’s rise was not by charisma or cleverness but by the quiet beauty of a heart aligned with God.

This is your calling: a heart of integrity and hands of skill, surrendered for the glory of God.

Called to Integrity

Integrity is not perfection; it is wholeness. It is the heart that fears the Lord more than the opinions of man. The prophet declared: “The integrity of the upright will guide them, but the perversity of the treacherous will destroy them” (Proverbs 11:3, NASB). You are called to be upright, unwavering, pure in devotion.

In Christ, you have been given a new heart. God promised, “I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit within you” (Ezekiel 36:26, NASB). Through the blood of Yeshua, you are made clean. This is not of your own doing—it is the gift of grace. Yet now, you must walk it out. You must daily choose to walk before God with integrity, offering Him a life that is blameless and true.

Guided by Skillful Hands

Believer, do not despise the work of preparation. Skill does not arrive by accident—it is honed in the secret place. The Word says, “Chenaniah, chief of the Levites, was in charge of the singing; he gave instruction in singing because he was skillful” (1 Chronicles 15:22, NASB). God honors skill that is dedicated to Him. He blesses the labor that is soaked in prayer and sharpened by diligence.

The heart of integrity leads you to cultivate excellence not for your own fame but for His glory. The Apostle Paul commands, “Whatever you do, do your work heartily, as for the Lord and not for people” (Colossians 3:23, NASB). The hands must be skillful, but they must be clean. The heart must be pure, and the purpose must be Him.

A New Testament Call

Yeshua, the Good Shepherd, is your perfect example. He said, “I am the good shepherd; the good shepherd lays down His life for the sheep” (John 10:11, NASB). His leadership was not self-serving. His hands healed. His heart was undivided. He shepherded with integrity and guided with power.

He calls you now to the same path: “Follow Me.” Not in pretense. Not for applause. But with a heart of fire and hands ready for the work of the Kingdom.

“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, who has not lifted up his soul to deceit…” (Psalm 24:3–4, NASB).

Will you answer His call today? Will you rise with a heart of integrity and hands skillful in His service?

Integrity and skill mark the true follower of Christ.

Prayer of Commitment

O Lord, search me and know my heart. Create in me a heart of integrity, and lead me in the everlasting way. Teach my hands to serve, my lips to praise, and my life to glorify You alone. Make me a shepherd in Your likeness—pure in heart, skillful in Your work. I lay down my pride and my plans and take up Your call. In the name of Yeshua, my Good Shepherd, Amen.

Now rise, beloved, and walk today in a heart of integrity

See Also

Humbling Yourself in the Sight of the Lord

Beloved, humbling yourself in the sight of the Lord is not just a call; it is the way to life and favor. “Humble yourselves in the presence of the Lord, and He will exalt you” (James 4:10, NASB). This divine instruction separates the proud from the blessed, the self-sufficient from the God-dependent. God resists the proud but gives grace to the humble (1 Peter 5:5, NASB).

What Does It Mean to Humble Yourself?

Humbling yourself in the sight of the Lord begins by laying aside the measurements of this world. The world praises self-confidence, self-promotion, and personal achievement. Yet, the Spirit of God whispers differently: “For through the grace given to me I say to everyone among you not to think more highly of himself than he ought to think, but to think so as to have sound judgment” (Romans 12:3, NASB).

Everything you have is a gift from God—your breath, your strength, your wisdom. To walk in humility is to acknowledge daily that God is your Source and that you are but a vessel. A.W. Tozer once said, “A humble man is not a self-hating man. He simply does not think of himself at all.” True humility is not thinking less of yourself but thinking of yourself less, focusing instead on the greatness of God.

The Potter and the Clay: A Living Illustration

The Bible paints a powerful picture in Jeremiah: “Then I went down to the potter’s house, and there he was, making something on the wheel. But the vessel that he was making of clay was spoiled in the hand of the potter; so he remade it into another vessel, as it pleased the potter to make” (Jeremiah 18:3-4, NASB).

We are the clay; God is the Potter. The clay has no voice to argue, no will to resist. It is shaped by the strong and tender hands of the Master. Likewise, humbling yourself in the sight of the Lord means surrendering to His shaping, even when it presses us, even when it breaks us and remakes us.

Isaiah echoes this truth: “But now, Lord, You are our Father; We are the clay, and You our potter, And all of us are the work of Your hand” (Isaiah 64:8, NASB). To humble yourself is to trust that God’s design is always better than your desire.

The Example of Yeshua, Our Messiah

There is no crown without a cross. No exaltation without humiliation. Yeshua, our Messiah, modeled this for us: “He humbled Himself by becoming obedient to the point of death: death on a cross” (Philippians 2:8, NASB). God highly exalted Him because He first stooped low in obedience.

Shall the servant be greater than his Master? If Yeshua humbled Himself, shall we not also walk the same path? When you humble yourself before the Lord, you follow in the footsteps of the One who is exalted above all.

The Dangers of False Humility

Beware, beloved, of the subtle pride that dresses itself in religious words or public displays of humility. True humility is hidden, seen not by men but by God. It does not parade itself; it trembles before His Word. “The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; A broken and a contrite heart, God, You will not despise” (Psalm 51:17, NASB).

Humbling yourself in the sight of the Lord means renouncing self-glory and vain ambition. It means seeking the applause of heaven rather than the approval of men.

God’s Promise to the Humble

“For this is what the high and exalted One Who lives forever, whose name is Holy, says: ‘I dwell in a high and holy place, and also with the contrite and lowly of spirit In order to revive the spirit of the lowly And to revive the heart of the contrite’” (Isaiah 57:15, NASB).

Beloved, God delights to dwell with the lowly. He lifts up those who bow down. He revives the hearts of the contrite. When you humble yourself, He promises to exalt you in due time (1 Peter 5:6, NASB).

Humbling yourself in the sight of the Lord is not a step backward but a leap forward into grace, favor, and divine intimacy.

Humbled low beneath His hand,
I find the grace to stand.
No boasting voice, no proud disguise—
Just mercy’s light in humble eyes.

Self-Application Questions

  1. In what areas of my life am I still clinging to pride instead of surrendering to God’s hand?
  2. How can I intentionally remind myself each day that all I have is a gift from God?
  3. Am I seeking the approval of men or the approval of God in my daily choices?
  4. What would it look like practically for me to live as clay in the Potter’s hands today?
  5. How can I follow the example of Yeshua more closely in humility and obedience?

Closing Prayer

O High and Holy God, we bow low before You. Strip away pride from our hearts. Teach us to be clay in Your hands, surrendered and willing. Break us where we are hardened. Remake us into vessels for Your glory. May we humble ourselves daily in Your sight, trusting Your promise to lift us in due time. Help us to fix our eyes not on ourselves, but on Yeshua, our Perfect Example. In His mighty name we pray. Amen.

🎵 “Clay in Your Hands” 🎵


(Verse 1)
I lay down my crowns at Your feet,
No boasting voice, no proud disguise.
You are the Potter, I am the clay,
Mold me, O Lord, with mercy’s light.
Humbled low beneath Your hand,
I find the grace to stand.

(Chorus)
I humble myself in the sight of the Lord,
Trusting Your promise, trusting Your Word.
You’re dwelling with the lowly, lifting up the weak,
I humble myself, O Lord, I seek —
To be clay in Your hands,
Just clay in Your hands.

(Verse 2)
Yeshua stooped low, bore the cross,
Obedient even unto death.
No greater love, no greater loss,
You raised Him high with Heaven’s breath.
Humbled low beneath Your hand,
I find the grace to stand.

(Chorus)
I humble myself in the sight of the Lord,
Trusting Your promise, trusting Your Word.
You’re dwelling with the lowly, lifting up the weak,
I humble myself, O Lord, I seek —
To be clay in Your hands,
Just clay in Your hands.

(Bridge)
Break me where I’m hardened,
Remake me in Your plan.
Not my glory, not my name —
But Yours alone will stand.

(Tag/Outro)
Clay in Your hands,
Just clay in Your hands.

See Also

God’s Faithfulness and Promises

In the beginning, God spoke, and all creation obeyed. From the first breath of life to the stars flung across the heavens, the Word of God stood sure. God’s faithfulness and promises are not mere whispers in the wind; they are the bedrock upon which all life stands.

Throughout the ages, God has never broken a promise. When He covenanted with Noah, He sealed it with a bow in the clouds (Genesis 9:13, NASB). When He spoke to Abraham, He swore by Himself, for there was no one greater (Hebrews 6:13, NASB). In every generation, God’s covenant love has remained steadfast.

“Know therefore that the Lord your God, He is God, the faithful God, who keeps His covenant and His faithfulness to a thousand generations for those who love Him and keep His commandments.” (Deuteronomy 7:9, NASB)

The faithfulness of God is not abstract. It is not distant. It breathes into the heart of every believer. When we are faithless, He remains faithful (2 Timothy 2:13, NASB). His promises do not depend on man’s strength, but on His eternal nature.

The greatest expression of God’s faithfulness and promises is found in Yeshua, our Messiah. In Him, every promise finds its “Yes” and its “Amen” (2 Corinthians 1:20, NASB). The covenant of old, sealed by the blood of bulls and goats, gave way to a better covenant, established on better promises (Hebrews 8:6, NASB).

Beloved, consider the promises of God:

  • He promised never to leave you nor forsake you (Hebrews 13:5, NASB).
  • He promised to give you a future and a hope (Jeremiah 29:11, NASB).
  • He promised eternal life to all who believe (John 3:16, NASB).
  • He promised to finish the good work He began in you (Philippians 1:6, NASB).
Prayer of agreement

God’s faithfulness and promises are not fragile threads but cords of love that cannot be broken.

In our lives, we see His faithfulness in every sunrise, in every answered prayer, and even in every waiting season. His Word stands eternal. When the world shakes, God remains unshakable.

Abraham waited years to see the son God promised. Israel wandered the desert but eventually entered the Promised Land. David, anointed king in his youth, waited decades to sit on the throne. In all of this, God’s faithfulness and promises proved true.

Let this truth sink deep into your soul: God does not lie. He does not waver. What He has spoken, He will accomplish. “God is not a man, that He would lie, nor a son of man, that He would change His mind. Has He said, and will He not do it? Or has He spoken, and will He not make it good?” (Numbers 23:19, NASB)

Child of God, you are living proof of His covenant-keeping love. You are a testimony that God’s faithfulness and promises endure. Every breath you take is grace. Every step you walk by faith is a declaration: “My God is faithful.”

Do not grow weary in the waiting. Trust Him. Hold fast to the promises. For it is written: “Let us hold firmly to the confession of our hope without wavering, for He who promised is faithful.” (Hebrews 10:23, NASB)

Teach us to pray like Moses
Learn to pray like Moses through Psalm 90—teach us to pray like Moses with awe, humility, and eternal perspective in every word.

God’s faithfulness and promises are the anchor for your soul. In joy and sorrow, in plenty and want, He remains the same. Press into Him. Seek His face. Remember that His covenant with you is sealed by the blood of Yeshua and cannot be undone.

Let us pray.

Father, we stand in awe of Your faithfulness. You have never failed. You keep all Your promises. Anchor our hearts in Your truth. Teach us to trust You even when we do not see. Help us to walk by faith, knowing that You are working all things for our good. Draw us closer to You. Let us live as testimonies of Your unchanging love. In the name of Yeshua, our covenant-keeping King, we pray. Amen.

See Also

Know the Living God

“Be still and know that I am God.” —Psalm 46:10 (NASB)

Beloved, it is not enough to know about God, but to know the Living God. Many have studied His name, read His Word, even walked among His people—yet never encountered Him face to face. This is the tragedy of religion without revelation, theology without intimacy. But God did not create you for a shallow knowledge. He created you to know Him.

In Hebrew, yadaʿ; in Greek, ginōskō. This is not mere head knowledge—it is intimate, covenantal, heart-deep knowing. It speaks of relationship, not information. It is how a husband knows his bride, with love and faithfulness. It is how a shepherd knows each sheep by name, tenderly and without mistake. It is how a child knows the voice of their father, with instinct and trust. This is how God knows us—and how He calls us to know Him. “I am the Good Shepherd, and I know My own, and My own know Me” (John 10:14, NASB).

From the beginning, God has desired to be known so that we would know the Living God. “They will know that I am the Lord their God who brought them out of the land of Egypt” (Exodus 29:46, NASB). His mighty acts were not for spectacle but for relationship. He gave signs, sabbaths, deliverance, and commandments—all so His people would know Him. He speaks to the humble, “That I may know You, so that I may find favor in Your sight” (Exodus 33:13, NASB).

But how easily people settle for knowledge about God instead of truly knowing the Living God. They memorize doctrine but never fall in love. They attend services but never commune with the Spirit. They use His name but do not know His voice. What did Yeshua say? “This is eternal life, that they may know You, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom You have sent” (John 17:3, NASB).

Do you know Him? Truly?

The prophets cried out for this very thing. Hosea wept, “Let us know, let us press on to know the Lord” (Hosea 6:3, NASB). Jeremiah thundered, “Let him who boasts boast in this, that he understands and knows Me” (Jeremiah 9:24, NASB). And the psalmist declared, “Those who know Your name will put their trust in You” (Psalm 9:10, NASB).

To know the Living God is to walk in His presence, abide in His truth, and burn with love for Him. It is to hear Him say, “You are Mine” (Isaiah 43:1, NASB), and to answer, “I know whom I have believed” (2 Timothy 1:12, NASB). This is the call—to move from the outer courts of information to the holy of holies of intimacy.

The early church knew this power. Paul cried out, “That I may know Him and the power of His resurrection” (Philippians 3:10, NASB). Peter prayed, “Grace and peace be multiplied to you in the knowledge of God” (2 Peter 1:2, NASB). And John testified, “We know that the Son of God has come, and has given us understanding so that we may know Him who is true” (1 John 5:20, NASB).

This is your invitation.

Not just to study—but to seek.
Not just to understand—but to encounter.
Not just to hear about God—but to know Him.

Let us pray

Father, El Elyon, the Most High—draw us close to You. Open the eyes of our hearts to know You, not by intellect alone, but by Spirit and truth. Like Moses, we say, “Show me now Your ways, that I may know You.” Like Paul, we press on to know the Living God. Like David, we thirst for You as the deer pants for the water brooks. Take us deeper than we’ve gone before. Let our hearts burn with the knowledge of the Holy. Let every other pursuit fade until we are found in You alone.

We want to know You.

Not just facts—but Your face.
Not just power—but Your presence.
Not just names—but You, Yeshua, our God and King.

Amen.

See Also

Peace in the Storm

Why Jesus Slept Through the Chaos

In Matthew 8:23–27 (AMP), we witness something both startling and beautiful—Jesus sleeping in the storm. While waves rise and seasoned fishermen cry out in fear, Yeshua remains at rest. His sleeping wasn’t neglect—it was the stillness of perfect authority.

Picture it: the boat is rocking like a cradle in a hurricane. The disciples are soaked, shouting, gripping the sides, probably losing track of which way is up—and Yeshua? He’s asleep. Not meditating. Not pretending. Actually asleep. The kind of sleep you only get when you’re completely unbothered.

Let that settle in.

“And suddenly a violent storm arose on the sea, so that the boat was being covered by the waves; but Jesus was sleeping” (Matthew 8:24 AMP). There’s a holy irony here. The disciples thought they were dying, but the Lord of heaven was catching a nap in the bow. His slumber wasn’t careless—it was confident. He wasn’t ignoring them. He just wasn’t worried.

And that’s the heart of this passage. Jesus isn’t just Lord when the sea is calm—He’s Lord while it’s raging. His peace doesn’t come after the storm ends. His peace walks into the chaos, lies down in the middle of it, and dares the wind to challenge His authority. This demonstrates how Jesus Sleeps in the Storm, illustrating His unwavering peace.

The disciples didn’t yet understand this. “Lord, save us, we are going to die!” (v. 25). It wasn’t just a prayer—it was panic wrapped in a plea. And when He got up, He didn’t start with the storm. He started with their hearts: “Why are you afraid, you men of little faith?” Then He turned to creation and told the winds and waves to be still.

And they obeyed.

The same voice that shaped the oceans in Genesis now speaks to their fury and brings “a great and wonderful calm” (v. 26). Not a pause. Not a break. A complete, glorious stillness. Because when Jesus speaks, even storms kneel.

But don’t miss what changed first: not the weather, but the disciples’ view of Him. “What kind of man is this, that even the winds and the sea obey Him?” (v. 27). That’s the real revelation here. He didn’t just calm the sea—they saw His majesty in a new light. Faith grows best in stormy soil—that’s the essence of Jesus Sleeps in the Storm.

We’re all going to face storms. Some hit hard and fast. Others drag on, wave after wave. But the question is the same: do you believe the One in your boat is greater than the storm around it? Do you believe that He can rest, not because He doesn’t care, but because He already reigns?

“Peace I leave with you; My [perfect] peace I give to you… Do not let your heart be troubled, nor let it be afraid” (John 14:27 AMP). That kind of peace doesn’t come from the world. It comes from the One who sleeps through storms because He already holds the outcome.

The next time you’re panicking and wondering where God is, remember this scene. He’s not pacing the deck—He’s resting in full authority. Jesus Sleeps in the Storm, showing us that’s your Savior. That’s your King.

So go ahead and wake Him with your prayer—but don’t forget to let His peace wake something in you too.


The waves may crash, the wind may roar,
But Christ asleep is peace and more.
His calm rebukes my anxious cry—
He reigns beneath the storm-tossed sky.


Prayer

Yeshua, I admit it—I panic easily. When life crashes over me, I forget who is in the boat. But You are not overwhelmed. You are not shaken. You rest in power, and I want that kind of peace. Speak over my storms today. Teach me to trust not in what I see, but in who You are. I welcome Your authority, Your stillness, and Your humor in my chaos. Let Your peace flood every place where fear once lived. In Your name, amen.


See Also

A Sound, Then a Voice, Then a Word

Hearing the Spirit Speak is central to our faith journey.

“He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will remain secure and rest in the shadow of the Almighty [whose power no enemy can withstand].” — Psalm 91:1 (AMP)

Beloved, you who are called by the name of Yeshua, come now and sit still before the Lord. Set aside the frantic pace of the world and every noise that would crowd your soul. Draw near. For it is in stillness, in the secret place, that God speaks and we engage in hearing the Spirit speak.

In the beginning, God walked in the garden in the cool of the day, and man heard a sound—a Presence moving among the trees. Even now, when you quiet your soul before Him, the Spirit comes near, and the first sign is often this: a sound. Not yet a word. Not yet a revelation. But something holy draws near, and your heart begins to burn.

This is the path of hearing the Spirit speak.

First, the rustling Presence, like wind through leaves or the gentle stirring of water. Then, as your spirit grows still and attentive, you begin to discern a voice—not audible, but unmistakable. The Holy Spirit speaks not to your ears, but to your inner man. At first, it is vague, a whisper barely formed. But you press in.

You open the Scriptures.

And then comes the miracle: the Word. Not ink on a page, but fire to your bones. What was once a verse becomes a personal Word—warm, clear, intimate. The breath of God fills it. It pierces, it comforts, it reveals the Son. The Spirit illuminates, and the Word becomes life.

This is not a formula, dear one. This is fellowship. The Spirit of God draws near to those who draw near to Him. He longs to lead you not just to knowledge, but to intimacy. Not just to discipline, but to delight. And the pathway begins with a choice—to be still.

John, the beloved, once leaned upon Yeshua’s chest and heard the heartbeat of God. He wrote, “You have an anointing from the Holy One, and all of you know the truth… the anointing which you received from Him remains in you, and you have no need for anyone to teach you; but as His anointing teaches you about all things…” (1 John 2:20, 27, NASB). The same Spirit that taught John now lives in you. Embrace hearing the Spirit speak within you.

So do not rush past the sound. Do not fear the silence. God is near.

He speaks still.

But will you listen?

Will you let the Spirit turn sounds into voice, and voice into Word?

Will you allow the Word to turn your heart toward the Lamb of God again?

You are not just invited into truth—you are invited into fellowship with the Truth Himself.And every time you enter that secret place with an open Bible and a yielded heart, heaven leans in.

“Behold, I stand at the door and continually knock. If anyone hears My voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with him, and he with Me.” — Revelation 3:20 (AMP)

So today, beloved, turn down every other voice. Open the door. Embrace the sound, the voice, and the Word. Through hearing the Spirit speak, the Word will become flesh again in your life, and with it, life and light and rest.

In silence You entered, a whisper at first,
Then thunder of mercy quenched all my thirst.
The Word became fire, it burned through my night,
Now I see You, my Savior, in fullness of light.

Prayer:

Holy Spirit, I wait on You now. Still my thoughts, quiet my soul. Let me hear the sound of Your nearness. Let me recognize Your voice. Illuminate Your Word to me today until it becomes life and light. Let me see and embrace Yeshua more clearly, more dearly. Let my fellowship with Him be unbroken and full of joy. Speak, Lord, for Your servant is listening. In the name of Jesus, amen.

See Also