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By Faith


When uncleanliness reaches—

refuse to surrender.


Stand still, even when your soul trembles.


Somewhere between the bridge of hope
and the valley of helplessness,

something unseen fractured the air—
and I felt it.


A vile spirit crept in quietly
and called it residence.


Each time it appeared,
my loyalty—misplaced—responded.


Not out of strength,
but out of familiarity.


Remember when Sarah laughed
at what God declared?


Not because God was weak,
but because doubt 

grew louder than promise.


She believed her time had expired,
so she reached for what was accessible—
and birthed Ishmael
outside of divine timing.


So I ask you—

How many Ishmaels
has your doubt conceived?


How many promises
have you interrupted
just to feel in control again?


Each time God plants a seed within you—

do you cover it with faith
or expose it to fear?


At the intersection of belief and uncertainty,

do you abandon the process
for the illusion of progress?

Or do you remain—
rooted, unmoved, anchored in truth?


You always have a choice.

Free will to be exact.


So choose wisely—

because disobedience 

rarely looks like rebellion at first.


Sometimes it looks like relief.


Don’t let temporary comfort
corrupt eternal character.


You were not created
to settle beneath your calling.


I remember the day my weariness
forced me to confront what I had been entertaining.


I looked that spirit in the eyes—
steady, unshaken—
and asked,

“What do you want from me?”


And the silence…

the silence revealed everything.


This was never connection.
This was never harmless.

This was spiritual warfare.


So be vigilant.


Not everything gentle is from God.
Not everything that feels good 

is sent to hold you.


Charm can be counterfeit.
Love can be mimicked.


Discernment is your defense.


Because whatever you permit—
you partner with.


And corruption never enters empty-handed.

It always leaves residue.

Filth. Weight. Distortion.


So guard your gates and restrict access.


May your heart never become 

a resting place for empty words spoken by broken vessels.


May unhealed wounds never resurrect themselves through the hands of those who never intended to hold you.


May you break every cycle
that attempts to remain.


May you never confuse 

repeated pain
with intended purpose.


And may your prayers—

raw, unfiltered, relentless—

ascend beyond the clouds
and dismantle every scheme
crafted in darkness against you.


May deception collapse 

under its own weight,
falling into the pit it dug for you—

never to rise again,
never to revisit,
never to reclaim space in your life.


And by faith—

not feeling, not sight, not circumstance—

we declare it finished.


Done. By. FAITH!

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