Observant Servant

Subtle Seduction of the Occult

~ Observant Servant

There’s a story that has stayed with me.

Joe Gutierrez, a steelworker of more than forty years, described something that once captivated an entire mill. Fine silver flakes would float down from the cooling tower when steel strips rolled across certain pads. At night, under the lights, it looked almost magical — like snow drifting in August. Workers would compete for the job assignment in that section because it was considered the most beautiful place to stand.

Later they discovered the truth. The flakes were asbestos.

“Everybody breathed it,” he wrote. Now he and many others live with asbestosis: a slow, tightening grip in the lungs. And he reflected with haunting honesty: We used to fight over that job.

I can’t read that story without thinking about how many things in our culture resemble those silver flakes. Attractive. Harmless-looking. Almost enchanting.

But slowly destructive.

The occult is one of those things.

It rarely presents itself as dark and dangerous at first. It feels mystical. Intriguing. Sometimes even playful. A horoscope here. A tarot reading there. A personality quiz shaped like astrology. A show about mediums. A curiosity about “energy.” It all appears innocent enough.

And yet Scripture is clear.

Deuteronomy 18:10–12 leaves little room for ambiguity: “There shall not be found among you anyone who practices divination… or a witch… or a consulter with familiar spirits… For all that do these things are an abomination unto the Lord.”

Those are strong words. Not because God is restrictive, but because He is protective.

The word occult simply means hidden. Concealed. But hidden does not mean harmless. Hidden things often operate quietly. Subtly. Like airborne fibers no one questions until breathing becomes difficult.

I have noticed that much of our culture treats these practices as entertainment. Astrology columns sit beside weather reports. Tarot decks are sold as aesthetic décor. Witchcraft is repackaged as empowerment. Spiritual curiosity is encouraged — as long as it doesn’t point to Christ.

But Scripture warns us that engaging in these practices is not a neutral act. Paul writes in 1 Corinthians 10:20 that behind idols are spiritual forces. To participate is to open fellowship with something other than God.

When someone turns to horoscopes, mediums, or divination, it quietly says, “I need knowledge beyond what God has given.” It implies that His Word is insufficient. That His guidance is incomplete. That perhaps He is withholding something good.

And that is the oldest lie.

In the garden, the serpent’s whisper was not overtly dark. It was subtle. “Did God really say?” It suggested that God might be limiting, not loving.

But everything we need to know about our future and our spiritual lives has already been entrusted to us in Scripture. We are called to walk by faith, not by secret knowledge. To trust the One who sees the end from the beginning.

Snow danced in August — and they fought to stand in it.

That image sobers me.

Not everything beautiful is safe. Not everything mystical is holy. Not everything popular is harmless.

We are invited to something deeper than fascination. We are invited to trust.

To take “good heed unto ourselves,” as Deuteronomy says. To guard our hearts from being driven to worship what was created instead of the Creator. To stand firmly on the sufficiency of God’s Word.

There is peace in not needing hidden knowledge. There is freedom in not chasing signs. There is security in walking step by step with the Shepherd who promises to guide, protect, and care for us.

The silver flakes glittered.

But they slowly stole breath.

May we have discernment to recognize what sparkles, and the wisdom to step away before it settles in our lungs.

Father,

You see the things that attract our attention and capture our curiosity. You know how easily our hearts can be drawn toward what appears beautiful, intriguing, or harmless on the surface. I ask that You give me discernment — the kind that sees beyond appearances and recognizes what is truly from You.

Lord, forgive me for the times I have allowed curiosity to wander into places that do not honor You. If I have looked for guidance, meaning, or understanding outside of Your Word, cleanse my heart and redirect my steps. Your truth is sufficient. Your wisdom is enough. I do not need hidden knowledge when I have the light of Your voice.

Your Word says, “Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path.” (Psalm 119:105, KJV) Teach me to trust that light. When the world offers glittering substitutes, help me remember that what shines is not always safe.

Guard my heart from deception. Give me a love for what is pure, true, and holy. Let Your Spirit sharpen my discernment so that I recognize the difference between what is merely fascinating and what is truly life-giving.

I choose to trust You with my future. I choose to walk by faith rather than by hidden knowledge. Lead me step by step, Shepherd of my soul, and keep my heart anchored in Your truth.

In Jesus’ name, amen.

WARNING ABOUT THE OCCULT

Symptoms of Demonic Operation in a Person

~ Observant Servant ~ 1 Comment

There is a conversation within Christianity that I once avoided because I did not know how to articulate what I had lived through. It revolves around a simple but uncomfortable question: can a born-again believer still be oppressed by demons?

I used to have strong opinions about that question. Now I move more slowly.

What I can say with humility is this: the Bible never plainly says that a Christian cannot experience demonic oppression. What it does show us, repeatedly, is that human beings can be inhabited, afflicted, tormented, and set free.

And I know what freedom feels like because I have received it.

Deliverance changed my life. It shifted the way I understand suffering — in myself and in others. It gave me compassion where I once had frustration. It allowed me to forgive people whose behavior once confused me, and it allowed me to forgive myself for struggles I could not explain.

When I read Mark 5 now, I no longer see just an extreme story about a man in tombs. I see a portrait of torment.

The man in the region of the Gerasenes was not merely troubled. He was isolated. He lived among the dead. He could not function in normal community. Chains could not restrain him. Night and day he cried out and cut himself.

It is easy to distance ourselves from that account. But when I slow down, I see patterns that are not as foreign as we might prefer.

There is the inability to live normally — the withdrawal, the strange pull toward isolation even while longing for connection. There is extreme behavior — anger that feels bigger than the moment, reactions that seem disproportionate, a volatility that harms both the individual and those nearby.

There are shifts in personality. The man said, “My name is Legion; for we are many.” That line used to intimidate me. Now it reminds me that fragmentation is not always psychological alone. Sometimes there are layers at work that counseling by itself cannot untangle.

There is restlessness. “Night and day he was crying out.” I remember seasons when sleep felt unreachable, when my body was exhausted but my mind would not rest. Psalm 127:2 says the Lord gives sleep to His beloved. When sleep becomes elusive without medical explanation, it is worth praying beyond the physical.

And then there is anguish.

Not ordinary grief. Not situational sadness. But a torment that lingers even when circumstances improve. A heaviness that does not respond to encouragement, logic, or willpower.

Mark 5 also shows self-harm. Mark 9 describes a spirit that threw a boy into fire and water to destroy him. These passages are sobering. They remind me that the enemy’s goal has always been destruction — not inconvenience, not mild discomfort, but destruction.

I write this carefully because I know how easily these conversations can become extreme or imbalanced. Not every struggle is demonic. There are real medical and psychological conditions that require compassionate, professional care. But neither should we ignore the spiritual dimension simply because it is uncomfortable.

My own experience with deliverance did not make me dramatic. It made me steadier. It did not make me suspicious of everyone. It made me more discerning. It did not make me arrogant. It made me grateful.

When the Lord exposed what was oppressing me and removed it, I felt something lift that I had assumed was simply “my personality” or “my weakness.” That experience reshaped how I see others. Instead of asking, “What is wrong with you?” I find myself asking, “What might be afflicting you?”

That shift alone has been a gift.

If someone reading this recognizes patterns in their own life — persistent torment, intrusive thoughts, uncontrollable rage, spiritual heaviness that does not yield — I would encourage prayerful discernment. Seek wise, grounded, biblically anchored help. Do not chase sensationalism. Do not isolate. Bring it into the light.

Jesus did not recoil from the man in the tombs. He crossed a sea to reach him.

And when the demons left, the man was found “clothed and in his right mind.”

That phrase moves me every time.

Clothed.
In his right mind.
At peace.

Freedom is not chaos. It is clarity. It is stability. It is rest.

If you are walking through something that feels darker than ordinary struggle, there is hope. There is no torment beyond Christ’s authority. There is no oppression He cannot confront. There is no chain He cannot break.

And sometimes the first step toward freedom is simply admitting that the battle may be more spiritual than you once believed.

demonic operation

God’s Gift of Hate

~ Observant Servant

There was a season in my walk with Christ when my world quietly shifted. When I first became a believer, my circle of secular friends slowly faded and was replaced with Christian community. That part didn’t surprise me. It felt like a natural consequence of choosing a new direction.

What I didn’t expect was that when I began speaking openly about deliverance, my circle would shrink again. Conversations became strained. Some of the same believers who once felt close seemed uncomfortable around me. There was a noticeable distance, an unspoken hesitation. I hadn’t anticipated that obedience would cost me fellowship in certain spaces.

But I can say this now with clarity: it has been worth it.

Following Jesus has always come with a cost. He never hid that. And stepping onto the front lines of spiritual warfare exposes things that comfortable Christianity often prefers not to address. When your eyes are opened to the battle, you can’t unsee it.

Looking back at old journals from when I was newly born again, I can see that the Holy Spirit was gently trying to show me that I still needed freedom in certain areas. At the time, I didn’t understand what I was being shown. Later, when I did become involved in a church, I was warned away from a particular minister whose teachings had been helping me. I trusted the counsel I was given and stepped back. Only now do I realize that the enemy had quietly used well-meaning believers to delay my deliverance.

That realization stirred something in me.

Not bitterness toward people — but a deep, fierce hatred toward what the enemy does to people. I began to see more clearly the destruction, the compromise, the confusion he sows. I saw how he delays healing, twists truth, isolates believers, and even hides behind religious language to keep people bound.

And I realized something else: if we do not hate sin, we will tolerate it.

Scripture says, “You who love the Lord, hate evil” (Psalm 97:10). That used to sound harsh to me. Now it sounds protective. If I love what God loves, I must also hate what harms what He loves. Proverbs 6:16–19 tells us plainly that there are things the Lord hates — pride, lying, violence, wicked schemes, discord among brothers. Godly love does not coexist with passive acceptance of evil.

This kind of hatred is not rage toward people. It is not personal vendetta. It is not self-righteousness. It is a settled, holy refusal to make peace with what destroys souls.

I have learned that hatred of sin strengthens resolve. It sharpens discernment. It fuels repentance. It keeps you from excusing the very thing that once enslaved you. When you truly hate your bondage, you stop negotiating with it.

For years, I misunderstood my struggles. I thought I simply needed to try harder, pray longer, perform better. But real freedom began when I stopped minimizing sin and started seeing it the way God sees it — not as a harmless flaw, but as a thief.

There is a righteous anger that rises when you understand what the enemy has stolen from you and from others. That anger, when surrendered to God, becomes a weapon. Not against flesh and blood, but against deception.

We are heirs of the King. Not timid observers. Not passive bystanders. But sons and daughters called to stand.

If we do not hate sin, we will eventually accommodate it. If we do not hate deception, we will slowly be shaped by it. If we do not hate the enemy’s schemes, we will underestimate them.

This is not about becoming harsh. It is about becoming clear.

And clarity is a gift.

A Prayer for the Godly Gift of Hate

Father,

Search my heart and purify my motives. If there is bitterness in me, remove it. If there is pride in me, humble it. But if there is passivity toward sin, awaken me.

Teach me to love what You love and to hate what You hate. Give me a holy hatred for the things that destroy souls, corrupt truth, and delay freedom. Help me never to direct that hatred toward people, but toward the sin and deception that binds them.

Strengthen me to refuse compromise. Sharpen my discernment so I do not excuse what You call evil. Let my anger be righteous and surrendered, not reckless or fleshly.

Make me bold but gentle. Fierce but humble. Unyielding toward sin, yet overflowing with mercy toward people.

I belong to You. Train my heart for battle. Guard me from deception. And let my hatred of evil always flow from a deeper love for You.

In Jesus’ name,
Amen.

Send me…

~ Observant Servant

“Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, ‘Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?’ And I said, ‘Here am I; send me!’
Isaiah 6:8

Back in October of last year I felt the need to take a day trip to a place called Montezuma Well. The gentle nudge came when I was looking for some out of town areas to explore. Now granted, in my happening upon this place in a Google search, it seemed to be a bit boring. Plus it was hot out and it’s about a 3 hour drive from where I live. Gas was also around $4.25-4.50 a gallon. So, in my opinion, it wasn’t worth the drive. But I went anyway.

While driving I kept thinking that maybe God wanted me to go there for a reason. So I began to pray about it. As I was getting close, I realized I really needed to get gas. So I asked God to lead me to a place that gas was less than $4. (And if He did this, then I would know that I was in His will in taking this trip.) I was beginning to feel pretty silly about driving so far for nothing spectacular.

Eventually I happened across a small mom and pop station and it had gas for $3.99. I took it as a sign that God was hearing me and pulled in. There was no one around other than a tanker driver who was delivering fuel on the other side of the pump. He was Hispanic burly guy, a little rough looking. He kinda seemed angry and closed off in all honesty. As I was pumping my gas, I noticed he was watching me and I started feeling a bit of fear creep up but I brushed it off and greeted him mentioning something about the weather. I don’t remember what exactly it was I said but he seemed to relax a bit and we had a brief chat.

While I was finishing up and putting my card back in my wallet, I felt I should give him a Gospel tract. (I carry them with me in the form of $1 Million bills.) I offered it to him, asked if he had seen one before. He said “no” and I told him about the real treasure was on the back where it told about Jesus. He just nodded, didn’t really respond.

As he was looking the bill over I said “You know… Jesus, He loves you. He sees you.”

It’s not normally how I initiate conversations when I share the Gospel but my “normal” seemed out of place on this day.

He paused for a moment and when he looked up, he had tears in his eyes. It was like he transformed into a whole different person in front of me. He began to tell me about how he lost his job during the pandemic because he refused to get vax’d. How his wife had left him and took his children and he lost his house and everything else and now he was living in his truck. He told me how he felt so alone and isolated and he had been praying for a sign because he didn’t think he could make it. He was so broken. I couldn’t help but hug him and encourage him to draw nearer to Jesus. We conversed for a bit more then I prayed for him and gave him a Gospel of John. He thanked me, his spirit seemed much lighter and he was smiling.

Then we went our separate ways.

It is so important to be sensitive to the Holy Spirit. Ready and willing and having your feet shod with the Gospel of peace. One conversation can turn someones life around. I encourage you to pray daily for the Lord to use you. Ask Him to give you an opportunity to bring Jesus into someone’s life. I promise you will be blessed by the encounter.

feet of the Gospel

Sacrifice of Praise

~ Observant Servant

“And then Job arose and rent his mantle, and shaved his head, and fell down upon the ground and worshiped. And said, “Naked I came out of my mother’s womb, and naked shall I return. The Lord givith and the Lord taketh away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.”
-Job 1:20-21

There are seasons when I return to the book of Job, not because it is easy to read, but because it is honest.

Many people struggle with it. It feels heavy. A righteous man. A faithful man. And God allows everything to be stripped away. His home, his livelihood, his children, his health. It almost feels unbearable to witness. And yet, woven through the anguish is something steady. Job’s refusal to let go of God, even when he could not understand Him.

For reasons I didn’t fully grasp at the time, the Holy Spirit led me through Job in the early months after I was born again. I remember reading it slowly, trying to absorb what it meant to trust God when nothing made sense. Looking back, I can see that I was being prepared.

Because not long after I finished the book, my own life unraveled.

Within a short span of time, I lost friendships. I lost my place to live. I didn’t own a car, so when relationships fractured, I also lost transportation and my job. One of those same “friends” left me carrying a heavy financial burden. My relationship with my daughter collapsed. My father passed away. The hits came so quickly that I barely had space to breathe between them.

I was broken in ways I didn’t have language for. Angry. Grieving. Regretful. Confused.

And yet, even in the grief of losing my dad, I could see mercy. His passing was nearly instant. That mattered to me. I thanked God for that small kindness in the middle of so much loss. It felt strange to be thankful while hurting, but gratitude became a lifeline.

Throughout that storm, Job stayed in my thoughts. I remembered how he worshiped even while he wept. How he wrestled honestly with God, but never abandoned Him. How he refused to curse the One he did not understand.

So I tried to do the same.

Some days, my praise felt thin. Some days it felt like a whisper more than a song. But I thanked God for what remained. For breath. For salvation. For being pulled out of darkness. For the cross. For the lessons I didn’t yet understand. I thanked Him for the fact that I was still alive to learn them.

Something shifted in me during that time. The circumstances did not immediately change. The pain did not disappear overnight. But peace began to settle in places that had once been frantic. It was not denial. It was not pretending. It was a quiet assurance that God was still present in the rubble.

In time, restoration came. Not in the exact shape I had imagined, but in ways that were better than what I lost. New friendships. A place to live. A vehicle. Healing in some family relationships. Provision I could not have orchestrated on my own. God rebuilt in ways that felt both tender and strong.

There are still areas waiting on His timing. But I no longer panic in the waiting.

Even now, as I walk through another uncertain season, I find myself returning to that same posture. Praise in the middle of not knowing. Trust in the absence of visible answers. I think of Abraham stepping away from everything familiar, not with a map, but with a promise. I imagine the mixture of fear and faith in that obedience.

There is a reason Scripture calls it a “sacrifice of praise.” A sacrifice costs something. When your heart aches, when your body is weary, when confusion clouds your direction, praise does not come naturally. It is offered. Chosen. Laid down.

The enemy would prefer silence. He would prefer bitterness. He would prefer that pain close your mouth and harden your heart.

But praise disrupts that strategy.

Praise anchors you in truth when emotions are unstable. Praise reminds your soul of who God is, even when you do not understand what He is doing. Praise opens space for peace to enter.

I have learned this slowly, through tears more than triumph. When you lift your voice — even trembling — something shifts. Not always the circumstance. But you.

And in that shift, you begin to sense it again: He is faithful.

Even here.
Even now.

Father,

You are the God who sees every season of our lives — the joyful ones and the ones that feel like walking through ruins. You see the moments when our hearts are strong with faith, and You see the moments when we barely have the strength to whisper Your name.

Lord, thank You for never abandoning us in the middle of our suffering. Your Word reminds us, “The LORD gave, and the LORD hath taken away; blessed be the name of the LORD.” (Job 1:21, KJV). Teach my heart to hold that same posture of trust, even when I do not understand the path before me.

Forgive me for the times I have allowed fear, bitterness, or confusion to speak louder than faith. When my circumstances feel overwhelming, help me remember that You are still present in the rubble. You are still working in ways I cannot yet see.

Give me the courage to offer the sacrifice of praise. Even when my voice trembles. Even when my understanding is incomplete. Let praise rise from my heart not because everything is easy, but because You are faithful.

Your Word says, “By him therefore let us offer the sacrifice of praise to God continually, that is, the fruit of our lips giving thanks to his name.” (Hebrews 13:15, KJV). Let gratitude anchor my soul when everything around me feels uncertain.

Strengthen my trust, Lord. Quiet my anxious thoughts. Help me walk forward step by step, knowing that You are guiding me, even when the road is unclear.

And just as You restored Job in Your time, remind me that You are still a God who restores, heals, and rebuilds what has been broken.

I place my life, my losses, and my future into Your hands.

In Jesus’ name, amen.

Fruit Inspectors

~ Observant Servant

Stop me if you have heard this one.

“I’m not judging them. I’m just inspecting their fruit”
Have you had an encounter with these “fruit inspectors”?
Maybe they are watching how you worship or even how you pray. I had an encounter a few months ago where I was judged because I didn’t pray they way someone thought I should during corporate prayer. They ridiculed me asking me why I didn’t pray for/about the things they felt I should be praying about or for. And another where because I was struggling, it was insinuated that God was displeased with me. I couldn’t do anything right. It was so bad that I started feeling that God had turned His face from me. That I was a lost cause. It broke me.

So many Christians are so judgemental and not in a loving way at all. They are just straight up mean. And they do it while holding their Bible under the covering of “I’m a fruit inspector. Just doing the Lords work.”
Seriously?
I hear it all the time. The Bible tells us to judge others. We’re to hold our brothers and sister accountable.
Ok.. I get it.
Let’s see what the Bible says.

There are scriptures like Proverbs 31:9 that do say “Open thy mouth, judge righteously…” And we definitely should want our brothers and sisters in Christ to be growing and moving forward. There certainly is a time, a place, and a way to do that, that shows love and truth. The problem is that we don’t see much love and truth. The problem is we don’t fully understand the weight of Matthew 7 that says ‘ do not judge or you too will be judged for in the same way you judge others, you will be judged.

Understand what you are doing when you claim to be a “fruit inspector”. You are saying “God, I know all the ins and outs of this situation, I know every motive hidden or not, and I am just as qualified as you, God, to place judgement on them.” — When you do that, you are saying “God, now judge me.” Is that really what you wanted?

Romans 14:10 says so why do you condemn another believer? why do you look down on another believer? Remember that we will all stand before the judgement seat of God. Each of us will give a personal account to God. Then in verse 13 it says this: So let’s stop condemning each other. Decide instead to live in such a way that wont cause another believer to stumble.
The truth is all this “fruit inspecting” we’re doing does way more damage than anything else. We are showing the world that even us as Christians cannot figure out how to get along. Jesus is love, joy, and peace huh? Let me see it in His followers.

Let me tell you some truth right here. If you really want to make a difference in the world for Jesus, start talking about what you’re for instead of focusing on what you are against. Can you judge other believers? Sure! Absolutely if you want to. But why would you want to? Remember John 3:17 “For God did not send His son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him.” If Jesus didn’t come here to condemn people, what makes us think it is our job? If you truly care about helping others grow and become a better person, love them to Jesus. It’s sad that other Christians, even pastors, bash other people under the cover of “righteous judgement”.

There’s nothing wrong at all with helping other people become who they should be in Christ but make sure we are doing it out of love with a pure heart. Not to make us feel better about ourselves. That is self righteousness. For we have all sinned and fallen short of the glory of God. That’s why we all have to depend on His righteousness.
And remember, if Jesus didn’t come to condemn them, then maybe you shouldn’t either.

Author: Kelly K. www.kellykministries.com

The Art of Surrender

~ Observant Servant

There was a story I once heard that has stayed with me.

A dog escaped from the groomer and ran away. His owner searched for him all day and all night. She refused to stop looking. Finally, the next evening, she spotted him in the distance. She called out and ran toward him. But instead of running back with confidence, the dog dropped low to the ground, whining, frightened. His fur was filthy and tangled with briars. When she reached him, he was so overwhelmed with relief that he trembled. She scooped him up and whispered, “You are mine. You are safe now. I never stopped looking for you. I’m taking you home.”

I cannot hear that story without thinking of Jesus.

For years, I thought people had to clean themselves up before coming to God. I thought maybe I did too. There’s something in us that wants to present a polished version of ourselves — less messy, less broken, less tangled in briars. We imagine that if we could just fix a few things first, then we would be worthy enough to approach Him.

But Scripture gently dismantles that illusion.

“There is none righteous, no, not one” (Romans 3:10).

Not one.

That includes me. That includes you.

The lie that we must earn our way back is subtle, but it is powerful. It keeps people hiding. It keeps them stuck in shame. It convinces them that salvation is a reward for good behavior instead of what it truly is — a gift purchased by the blood of Christ.

“For by grace are ye saved through faith… not of works” (Ephesians 2:8–9).

Grace does not wait for you to get clean. Grace comes running toward you while you are still tangled and trembling.

Jesus said, “I am the way, the truth, and the life” (John 14:6). He did not say, “I am the way once you fix yourself.” He did not say, “Come back when you are presentable.” He simply said He is the way.

When I think about that dog lying in the dirt, afraid and ashamed, I see so many of us. We assume God must be disappointed. We expect Him to scold us. Instead, He gathers us up.

You are mine.
You are safe now.
I never stopped looking for you.

He does not wait for you to untangle yourself. He takes you home and begins the cleansing Himself. He removes what harms you. He heals what was wounded. He restores what was lost.

That is the heart of Jesus.

If you are waiting to “get your life together,” stop waiting. Come as you are. Bring the dirt. Bring the fear. Bring the shame. Lay it down at His feet. He is not shocked by your condition. He is moved by your surrender.

He never gave up on you.

And He never will.

Prayer

Lord Jesus,

Thank You for never stopping the search for me. Thank You that You do not wait for me to clean myself up before calling me Yours. Forgive me for believing the lie that I must earn Your love. I lay down my shame, my fear, and my tangled places at Your feet.

Take me home, Lord. Cleanse what needs cleansing. Heal what needs healing. Remove what is harmful and replace it with new life. Teach me to rest in Your grace instead of striving in my own strength. I come to You as I am. I trust You to make me new.

In Jesus’ name, amen.

GraceAlone #ComeAsYouAre #JesusSaves #SavedByGrace #Redemption #UnconditionalLove #FaithJourney #GospelTruth #ObservantServant

Stepping out in Faith

~ Observant Servant

A Lesson in Building trust in the Lord

In my first week of knowing the Lord, He asked me if I would work for Him.

I was astonished.

Me? Work for God?

I remember feeling overwhelmed that He would even ask. And that’s exactly what He did. He asked. He did not demand or command as is His right. He asked me.

I babbled “yes, of course! I will do whatever you want, Jesus”. I didn’t know what this job entailed. I just knew that the One who set me free, the One who just saved my life, my heart and my soul, desired me. Despite my past, despite all the sins I had just confessed and begged forgiveness for, (and the sins I could not remember for there were too many to count; but He forgave them ALL.) This – He wanted me to work for Him. After I agreed, He gave me my task.

“Go tell others about me, tell them what I have done.”

It has been over a year since He first spoke those words to me. During that time, whenever I had doubts about if He really wanted me to do this, or doubts in myself as to actually being able to do this, I would pray, asking for confirmation. The enemy was attacking me big time in this manner.

In His faithfulness, patience, endless mercy and grace, He always answered my prayers with His confirmation in various ways.

Four month’s into being a new believer, He led me to a small group that had the same passion to share the Gospel. Once I met them, I knew I had found my new family in Christ. Shortly after meeting them, the pastor sent me a video by Eric Ludy called The Gospel. In the video, I heard nearly the same conversation that I had with Jesus in my heart four months prior. I was blown away. He showed me in dreams that this was my calling and even later He began to show others in their dreams.

 Most recently the enemy caused me to doubt again, but God is so good. He led me to Jeremiah chapter one and gently reminded me of the ways he has orchestrated everything leading up to this point. He continues to lead me and provide for me even this very day. God is great. He is bountiful in His mercy and Grace. His patience is abundant.

I am blessed and honored that the Lord God has given me such a task. I will end this post with these few verses the Lord has put in my heart.

“Come and hear, all you who fear God, and I will tell you what he has done for my soul. I cried to him with my mouth, and high praise was on my tongue. If I had cherished iniquity in my heart, the Lord would not have listened. but truly God has listened; he has attended to the voice of my prayer. Blessed be God, because he has not rejected my prayer or removed his steadfast love from me!” – Psalm 66:16-20

“But you, dress yourself for work, arise and say to them everything that I command you. Do not be dismayed by them, lest I dismay you before them. And I, behold, I make you this day a fortified city, an iron pillar, and bronze walls, against the whole land, against kings of Judah, and it’s officials. They will fight against you, but they shall not prevail against you, for I am with you, declares the Lord.” – Jeremiah 1:17-19

                                                        

“And  I, when I came to you, brothers, did not come proclaiming to you the testimony of God with lofty speech or wisdom for I have decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ and him crucified. And I was with you in weakness and in fear and much trembling and my speech and message were not in plausible words of wisdom but in demonstration of the spirit and of power so that your faith might not rest in the wisdom of men but in the power of God.” – 1 Corinthians 2:1-5

                                                                                 

Learning to Pray

~ Observant Servant

I’ve noticed something about the way I enter prayer now. Almost without thinking, I begin with gratitude.

Before I ever get to requests, before I remember the list of names in my journal, my heart just starts thanking Him. For breath. For protection through the night. For quiet mercies I would have missed if I wasn’t paying attention. There are mornings when I come to Him with intention — specific needs, specific burdens — and yet I never make it past praise. I simply sit there, overwhelmed by the goodness of God.

The Lord already knows what we need. Jesus said as much. And sometimes I sense that He invites me not first to ask, but to remember. To remember who He is. To remember what He has already done. Thanksgiving steadies my heart. It reminds me that I am not approaching a reluctant God, but a faithful Father.

At the same time, I’ve learned that gratitude is not meant to replace honest desire. There was a season, especially when I was newly born again, when praying for others came so naturally to me. I was surrounded by people who didn’t know Christ, and I had just tasted the depth of His mercy. I wanted everyone to feel that freedom. I would spend long stretches of time pleading for softened hearts, for salvation, for breakthrough in other people’s lives.

But when it came to praying for myself, something in me hesitated.

I already had Jesus. What more could I possibly need?

It felt selfish to ask for anything personal. I would shorten my own prayers. Minimize my own needs. I didn’t want to “take up time,” as if the Creator of heaven and earth were inconvenienced by my voice. Looking back, I can see how subtle that lie was. It sounded humble, but it was actually distance.

What kind of relationship would it be if a child barely spoke their needs to a loving parent? God is not irritated by our desires. He is not exhausted by our requests. He invites them. He shapes them. He sometimes refines them. But He wants them brought into the light.

Scripture says, “Praying always with all prayer and supplication in the Spirit, and watching thereunto with all perseverance and supplication for all saints” (Ephesians 6:18, KJV). That includes praying for the saints. And sometimes, that saint is you.

The enemy will gladly keep you interceding for everyone else while quietly silencing your own heart. He will whisper that your needs are small, or unworthy, or already covered. But recognizing that whisper for what it is changes everything. When I began to see that reluctance as spiritual resistance, something shifted in me. I started bringing my own heart before the Lord with the same earnestness I used for others.

Now my prayer life feels less like a performance and more like a conversation. Some days it is gratitude. Some days it is intercession. Some days it is quiet surrender. And some days it is simply honesty.

Every day is a gift within a gift — another chance to draw near, to work alongside Him, to grow in trust. Even in hard seasons, I can find something to thank Him for. Even in uncertainty, I can bring Him what I lack.

He does not tire of hearing from us.

And I am learning not to tire of coming to Him.