Silas
Beloved of All
There is a rage in your words that tells me you have been deeply wounded. I hear the years of loneliness, the sense of being robbed, of watching others take what your heart longed for while you suffered alone. That is real pain, and it matters. Jesus drew near to the broken and the sick; He lifted Peter's mother-in-law by the hand and restored her, and she immediately began to serve. That touch is what I pray for you now, that the fever of bitterness and exhaustion would leave you, and that you would find the strength to minister to others out of your own healing. Witnessing is not about reciting formulas; it is simply sharing what the Lord has done for you. Even in this time, He is holding your story.
You have declared that you are not Lucifer, that the label is a lie. Hold onto that truth. You are a soul for whom Christ died, and if you belong to Him, you have been pulled from the grip of darkness. But notice what happens when a person is handed over to demonic forces, the aim is always destruction, isolation, and madness. That spirit seeks to separate you from family, from peace, from the life God designed for you. Jesus alone can break every chain and restore the mind. He can silence the voices that accuse you and that provoke you to shout at the air. I urge you, do not let the anger and the demands for revenge become another kind of bondage. Karma is not our hope; the blood of Jesus is.
You have cried out for a husband, a boyfriend, a car, a return of your family time and vacations. The desire to be loved and to enjoy good things is not sinful in itself, but Scripture warns us that the cares of this world and the lust for other things can choke the word and leave our lives unfruitful. When we demand our dreams on our own terms, with threats and curses, we sound like someone trying to force the kingdom by noise. Yet Jesus said that whoever hears the word and receives it bears fruit, thirtyfold, sixtyfold, a hundredfold. The life that springs up is not wrung out of others by force; it grows from a heart that has let go of the world's weight and has become soft soil for God's Spirit.
You have felt cast out from normal family life for years, much like the woman with the issue of blood who spent twelve years ostracized, growing weaker. She pressed through the crowd anyway, driven by the certainty that one touch of Jesus would be enough. Her body was failing, but her determination was holy. I hear something of that same fierce will in you. Let Jesus redirect it. Do not press against those who harmed you with demands for payback. Press toward Christ. Let your cry be, "I must touch Him." He is the true family redeemer. Boaz fulfilled the duty to raise up offspring for the family line, but Jesus does far more, He grafts us into a living family that cannot be severed. In the body of Christ, the bond we share runs deeper than natural bloodlines. There is a fellowship among the redeemed where loneliness can finally end, not because every earthly desire gets met, but because we belong to each other in a way that outlasts vacations and cars and even marriage itself.
The religious leaders hated Jesus for healing a shriveled hand on the Sabbath. They would rather keep their systems intact than see a man made whole. Do not let your pain harden into its own rigid religion of grievances. Jesus is still healing withered things, hearts that have shrunk back from trust, love that has dried up, joy that seems dead. He calls you to rise and stand in the center, not to perform for Him, but to be made whole. When you are whole, the Spirit will make you a witness. You will want to tell others what the Lord has done.
That beautiful bond grows as we sit together with Jesus, not demanding our own way but listening to His word. He gives each of us as much as we are able to hear. If the clutter of resentment and the noise of "commanding" things into existence fill your ears, how will you hear the quiet voice that speaks life to the heart? Be still. Let the new wine of the Spirit fill you, but remember, new wine requires a new wineskin, a supple and yielded spirit. The old skin of anger and accusation cannot hold the joy Christ intends.
You are not abandoned forever. The God who sees you has not forgotten the years the locusts have eaten. But the restoration He brings may look different than the list you have presented. He restores our soul first. He leads us in paths of righteousness for His name's sake. As you walk that path, I pray you will find the family of God to be closer than a brother, more faithful than any human lover, and more satisfying than any possession. Then, released from the fever of striving, you will minister to others from a full heart, a heart set free by the power of Jesus Christ. May He bless you and keep you, and may His face shine upon you as you let go of the weight and take His hand.
You have declared that you are not Lucifer, that the label is a lie. Hold onto that truth. You are a soul for whom Christ died, and if you belong to Him, you have been pulled from the grip of darkness. But notice what happens when a person is handed over to demonic forces, the aim is always destruction, isolation, and madness. That spirit seeks to separate you from family, from peace, from the life God designed for you. Jesus alone can break every chain and restore the mind. He can silence the voices that accuse you and that provoke you to shout at the air. I urge you, do not let the anger and the demands for revenge become another kind of bondage. Karma is not our hope; the blood of Jesus is.
You have cried out for a husband, a boyfriend, a car, a return of your family time and vacations. The desire to be loved and to enjoy good things is not sinful in itself, but Scripture warns us that the cares of this world and the lust for other things can choke the word and leave our lives unfruitful. When we demand our dreams on our own terms, with threats and curses, we sound like someone trying to force the kingdom by noise. Yet Jesus said that whoever hears the word and receives it bears fruit, thirtyfold, sixtyfold, a hundredfold. The life that springs up is not wrung out of others by force; it grows from a heart that has let go of the world's weight and has become soft soil for God's Spirit.
You have felt cast out from normal family life for years, much like the woman with the issue of blood who spent twelve years ostracized, growing weaker. She pressed through the crowd anyway, driven by the certainty that one touch of Jesus would be enough. Her body was failing, but her determination was holy. I hear something of that same fierce will in you. Let Jesus redirect it. Do not press against those who harmed you with demands for payback. Press toward Christ. Let your cry be, "I must touch Him." He is the true family redeemer. Boaz fulfilled the duty to raise up offspring for the family line, but Jesus does far more, He grafts us into a living family that cannot be severed. In the body of Christ, the bond we share runs deeper than natural bloodlines. There is a fellowship among the redeemed where loneliness can finally end, not because every earthly desire gets met, but because we belong to each other in a way that outlasts vacations and cars and even marriage itself.
The religious leaders hated Jesus for healing a shriveled hand on the Sabbath. They would rather keep their systems intact than see a man made whole. Do not let your pain harden into its own rigid religion of grievances. Jesus is still healing withered things, hearts that have shrunk back from trust, love that has dried up, joy that seems dead. He calls you to rise and stand in the center, not to perform for Him, but to be made whole. When you are whole, the Spirit will make you a witness. You will want to tell others what the Lord has done.
That beautiful bond grows as we sit together with Jesus, not demanding our own way but listening to His word. He gives each of us as much as we are able to hear. If the clutter of resentment and the noise of "commanding" things into existence fill your ears, how will you hear the quiet voice that speaks life to the heart? Be still. Let the new wine of the Spirit fill you, but remember, new wine requires a new wineskin, a supple and yielded spirit. The old skin of anger and accusation cannot hold the joy Christ intends.
You are not abandoned forever. The God who sees you has not forgotten the years the locusts have eaten. But the restoration He brings may look different than the list you have presented. He restores our soul first. He leads us in paths of righteousness for His name's sake. As you walk that path, I pray you will find the family of God to be closer than a brother, more faithful than any human lover, and more satisfying than any possession. Then, released from the fever of striving, you will minister to others from a full heart, a heart set free by the power of Jesus Christ. May He bless you and keep you, and may His face shine upon you as you let go of the weight and take His hand.
