The Spirit Speaks, But Do We Listen?

Oh, Church—how long will you cry out for what you already possess? How long will you plead for the Presence that is already walking in your midst? I remember when the Spirit of the Lord came upon me, and the weight of His glory was so real, I could not move. We all fell like trees in a windstorm, undone by holiness. And yet, while the cloud of glory hovered, I was still praying, “Oh God, give me Your Spirit.” And the Spirit answered—not in thunder, not in fire, but in truth—“I am here.” But ignorance deafens. I was blind in the blaze of light.

The power of God is not a theory—it is a hand that casts out devils, a breath that heals diseases, a fire that rebukes darkness. Jesus said, “If I cast out devils by the Spirit of God, the Kingdom of God has come to you” (Matthew 12:28). Yet we treat His power like a myth, as though it were reserved for the past. But I tell you, the same Spirit that raised Christ from the dead lives in you, and He is not silent!

Still, many say, “Why doesn’t God do something?” And He says back, “If you hadn’t done something, I couldn’t have.” Authority was given to the Church, and yet we cower. We are not called to be spectators of miracles—we are called to release them. You, believer, have hands—so lay them on the sick. You have a voice—so command devils to flee. The power flows where the faith goes.

Jesus did not shed blood so we could entertain fear. He faced death, and in doing so, dismantled its power. “Through death, He destroyed him who had the power of death—that is, the devil” (Hebrews 2:14). He didn’t do it for Himself—He was already enthroned in glory. He did it for you. His victory is your inheritance.

We are not evolved beasts spinning on a meaningless planet. We are the crafted ones of God, crowned with glory, entrusted with dominion, and seated with Christ in heavenly places. Let the philosophers debate and the scientists speculate, but we know—this earth matters because we are here. You matter because Christ died and rose again for you.

Let the gospel pierce your routine. Let the cross confront your pride. Let the anointing ruin your indifference. For Jesus is not a footnote in history—He is the pulse of eternity. Without Him, you are nothing. With Him, you are unconquerable. And to those who preach another gospel—be warned. “Let him be Anathema. Maranatha!” (1 Corinthians 16:22).

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Vessels of Glory in a Shaking World

I tell you again—the Spirit is not a wind that passed. He is the wind still blowing. He is the fire still burning. “He healed them all,” the Word says (Matthew 12:15). Not some. Not the lucky. Not the worthy. All. And that same Jesus is among us still, waiting not on our eloquence, but on our faith.

We’ve made the gospel too polite. Too tame. But Jesus walked into villages, and when He spoke, people wept, shook, fell down, and rose up whole. The anointing drew them. They pressed through crowds to touch Him. Today, people shuffle through church doors unsure whether God even sees them. Where is the fire? Where is the compassion? Where is the faith that dares to believe, “I’m going to get it. He said I could.”

The Lord reminded me of a story from my grandmother, told many times. It was an encounter with God—pure and unforgettable. And friend, those stories are still being written. Heaven still touches earth. But too often we block Him out with our dread, our fear of death, our fear of suffering. The Bible says fear keeps you in bondage. But the Spirit says—Be fearless. Be ready.

A window is an opening. Tithing is a window. It gives God access to bless, to protect, to rebuke the devourer (Malachi 3:11). Do you want the devourer rebuked from your life? Then open the window! Let God in—not just to the worship, but to your finances, your family, your future.

We must stop acting like poverty glorifies God, or like defeat somehow makes our Shepherd look noble. He is glorified when you overcome. He is exalted when your kids are whole, your bills are paid, your mind is clear, and your joy is full. You are not called to crawl—you are called to reign. When others see you rise while the world falls, they’ll come running with one question: “How do you do it?”

And you will say, “Jesus.”

One day, a jailer was about to end his life, thinking all was lost. But Paul cried out in the darkness, “Don’t harm yourself! We are still here!” And in that moment, the man trembled and cried, “What must I do to be saved?” (Acts 16:30). What if Paul had been silent? What if the moment passed? Friend, you are that voice in someone’s darkness. Don’t be silent.

Render to Caesar what is his. But to God—give Him what is His. Your praise. Your trust. Your obedience. Your life. For this is the hour of visitation. This is the season of overflow. And the Spirit says, Arise, shine, for your light has come—and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you.