Wednesday, September 2, 2026
"About eight days after Jesus had said these things, He took with Him Peter, John, and James, and went up on a mountain to pray. 29 And as He was praying, the appearance of His face changed, and His clothes became radiantly white. 30 Suddenly, two men, Moses and Elijah, began talking with Jesus. 31 They appeared in glory and spoke about His departure (exodos), which He was about to accomplish at Jerusalem. 32 Meanwhile, Peter and his companions were overcome by sleep, but when they awoke, they saw Jesus’ glory and the two men standing with Him." Luke 9:28-32
There is a remarkable detail hidden within the Transfiguration that is easy to overlook. As Jesus stood on the mountain in glory, Moses and Elijah appeared and spoke with Him -- not about His miracles, His teaching, or even His coming resurrection. Luke tells us they spoke of His “departure” He was about to accomplish in Jerusalem [Luke 9:31].
But Luke does not use the ordinary Greek word for departure.
He uses exodos -- the same Greek word found in the Septuagint, the ancient Greek translation of the Hebrew Scriptures, where it gives the book of Exodus its name: the story of Israel's great escape from Egypt. That's no accident. When Luke chose that word, every reader familiar with Scripture would have felt the echo immediately: this is another Exodus. Moses and Elijah, standing there on the mountain, are not reminiscing about the past -- they are announcing that what Moses began, Jesus is about to complete. Not a deliverance from Pharaoh's chains, but from something far greater: breaking the dominion of sin, death, and the kingdom of darkness.
The cross is not merely the place where sins are forgiven. It marked the beginning of a new Exodus.
The Greek word exodos literally means “the way out,” “the road of departure,” or “the journey from one realm into another.” Luke intentionally frames the death of the Messiah as the opening of a new redemption story. The blood of the Lamb is once again applied, not to the doorposts of homes, but to the hearts of those who believe, and a people are called to leave behind the old kingdom and begin a journey toward inheritance.
The Hebrew story deepens the picture even further. Israel was not redeemed simply to escape Egypt. God repeatedly told Moses, “Let My people go, that they may serve Me” [Exodus 7:16]. Deliverance had a purpose. They were redeemed to become a covenant people, a kingdom of priests, and a holy nation [Exodus 19:6]. Leaving Egypt was only the beginning.
The same is true for us.
Too often, salvation is treated as the finish line when Scripture presents it as the starting point. We celebrate being rescued while forgetting that we have also been called into covenant, discipleship, transformation, and ultimately Kingdom inheritance. Jesus did not simply save us from something -- He saved us for something.
Even the characters of the Transfiguration testify to this. Moses represents the Exodus, Elijah represents the prophets, and both stand beside the One who fulfills them all. The Law and the Prophets point toward a greater Deliverer who will lead not one nation, but all who believe into the restoration of God’s Kingdom.
Brothers & Sisters, perhaps today you have been thanking God for bringing you out of Egypt while forgetting that He is also leading you somewhere. The blood of the Lamb was never meant to leave you standing at the door -- it was meant to begin your Exodus. The God who delivered you is the God who is forming you, guiding you, and preparing an inheritance for you. So don't camp at the place of your redemption. Keep following the greater Moses. Leave behind every chain that still whispers your name, every fear that tells you to return to Egypt, and every lie that says the wilderness is your home. Your King has already made the way out, and every step you take in obedience is one step closer to the Kingdom He has prepared for you from the foundation of the world.
A NEW EXODUS BEGAN AT THE CROSS!
Tuesday, September 1, 2026
"When Jesus had received the sour wine, he said, “It is finished,” and he bowed his head and gave up his spirit." John 19:30 ; "And he said to me, “It is done! I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. To the thirsty I will give from the spring of the water of life without payment." Revelation 21:6; "For all the promises of God are “Yes” in Christ. And so through Him, our “Amen” is spoken to the glory of God." 2 Corinthians 1:20
Two declarations frame the whole story of redemption.
At Calvary, Jesus cried, Tetelestai -- from teleĊ, meaning to complete, to fulfill, to bring something to its intended goal. It speaks of a completed work with continuing results. The debt was paid. The sacrifice was accepted. The victory was secured.
In Revelation 21, from the throne comes a second word: Gegonan — from ginomai, meaning to become, to come into being, to come to pass. This is not merely a work completed, but a promise fully manifested. The New Jerusalem has descended. Death is abolished. The curse is removed. The Kingdom is fully unveiled.
Between these two words is where we live.
But we are not meant to live there passively. As believers, we are called to bring the reality of the coming Kingdom into this present age. We carry the witness of what will one day fill the earth. The future is not distant to us in the way it is distant to the world. In Jesus, the powers of the age to come have already broken into this age. The Kingdom that will one day be fully revealed is already among us by the presence and power of the King.
Jesus declared, “The kingdom of God is among you” [Luke 17:21]. Yet He also taught us to pray, “Your kingdom come” [Matthew 6:10]. That tension is not confusion. It is revelation. The Kingdom has arrived, it is arriving, and it will arrive in fullness. The cross established the reign of the King. Revelation reveals the full manifestation of His reign. We are not waiting for the Kingdom to begin; we are carrying its witness until it is fully unveiled.
This changes how we pray, how we live, and how we confront the brokenness around us. We do not look at sickness, bondage, despair, injustice, or darkness as though they belong to the final order of things. They do not. Death does not get the last word. The curse does not get the last word. Darkness does not get the last word. Revelation shows us the final reality: God dwelling with His people, tears wiped away, death destroyed, creation restored, and the Kingdom fully revealed.
And because that future is certain, we bring its reality into the present.
Every salvation is the future Kingdom breaking into the now. Every healing is a sign of the world to come. Every deliverance is a witness that the powers of darkness have already been judged. Every act of forgiveness, mercy, reconciliation, holiness, courage, and love is a preview of the day when the Father declares over all creation, “It is done.” We are not pretending the world is whole. We are revealing the One who is making all things new.
Many believers fall into one of two errors. Some treat Calvary as though there is nothing more to expect, nothing more to pray for, and nothing more to see unfold. Others live as though nothing decisive has happened yet, as though we are still waiting for God to answer the rebellion of the earth. But Scripture teaches neither. Tetelestai means the victory has been secured. Gegonan means the victory will be fully manifested. And between those two declarations, the people of God are called to embody the Kingdom before the nations.
Brothers & Sisters, the unfinished places around you do not cancel the finished work behind you -- they are invitations to carry the authority, mercy, power, and hope of the coming Kingdom into this present moment. You live between the cross and the throne, and that position is not uncertain; it is an assignment. You can grieve what is broken without surrendering to despair. You can pray without questioning the King's authority. You can confront darkness without fear, because the outcome has already been secured. You do not fight for victory -- you stand in the finished work. You do not deny the battle -- you declare the outcome. You do not retreat because the world is shaking -- you advance because the throne is occupied. The cry from the cross guarantees the declaration from the throne, and until that day, you are not a spectator of history; you are a carrier of the coming Kingdom into this present reality.
LIVING BETWEEN THE FINISHED WORK AND THE FINISHED KINGDOM!
Monday, August 31, 2026
"When Jesus had spoken these things, He lifted up His eyes to heaven and said, “Father, the hour has come. Glorify Your Son, that Your Son may glorify You. 2 For You granted Him authority over all people, so that He may give eternal life to all those You have given Him. 3 Now this is eternal life, that they may know You, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom You have sent. 4 I have glorified You on earth by accomplishing the work You gave Me to do. 5 And now, Father, glorify Me in Your presence with the glory I had with You before the world existed." John 17:1-5
Over the past few devotionals, we have touched on different usages of the word Tetelestai — how it carried the idea of a debt paid in full, a legal matter settled, and an obligation completely satisfied. But there is another powerful dimension to this word. It was also used in a military sense. When a soldier had completed his assignment, fulfilled his orders, and carried out the mission entrusted to him, he could return with this report: Tetelestai — mission accomplished. Every objective fulfilled. Nothing left undone.
This gives us a powerful lens through which to see the life and death of Jesus. His coming was not random. His ministry was not improvised. His suffering was not an unfortunate accident. He came under divine assignment. He said clearly, “I have glorified You on earth by accomplishing the work You gave Me to do.”
From the wilderness to Galilee, from the synagogues to the streets, from the table with sinners to the garden of Gethsemane, Jesus moved with the clarity of a Son on mission. He was not controlled by men's approval. He was not intimidated by the demons' opposition. He was not distracted by the pressure of the crowds. He knew why He had come.
That is why the cross must never be seen as the interruption of His mission. It was the completion of it. What looked to Rome like an execution looked to Heaven like fulfillment. What looked to the disciples like collapse was, in truth, the decisive strike against sin, death, and the powers of darkness. Jesus was not overtaken by the cross; He walked into it with open eyes. He was not trapped by the schemes of men; He was fulfilling the counsel of God. Every prophecy, every shadow, every sacrifice, every promise spoken across a thousand years of covenant history -- all of it converged on that hill, on that moment, in that cry -- Tetelestai.
When Jesus cried, “It is finished,” He was not surrendering to defeat. He was declaring that the mission had been accomplished. Nothing was partial. Nothing was incomplete. He did not almost finish the work. He did not secure a temporary victory. He did not leave redemption hanging in uncertainty. The Lamb had been offered. The blood had been shed. The enemy had been judged. The covenant had been sealed. The way had been opened. The Kingdom had broken through in power.
This is essential to our understanding of the Kingdom. The Body of Messiah is not trying to create a victory that does not yet exist. We are called to move in agreement with the victory of our Lord. Jesus has completed the mission; His Body now carries the authority of what He already accomplished. We do not preach a Gospel that might work. We proclaim a Kingdom that has already triumphed through the death and resurrection of the King. We do not pray from uncertainty. We pray from the finished work. We do not resist darkness as though the outcome is still in question -- we enforce the judgment of the One who has already overcome.
The enemy works hard to convince believers that we are still fighting for victory. He wants the Body of Messiah exhausted, anxious, and unsure -- as though Calvary only gave us a chance to win. But the cross did not create the possibility of triumph. It secured the triumph of the King. The resurrection was Heaven's public declaration that the sacrifice was accepted, the assignment was complete, and the victory was final. The tomb is empty because the mission was finished.
This changes how we walk. You are not carrying fragile hope into uncertain ground -- you are advancing in the authority of a completed mission, representing a King who has already disarmed principalities and powers, made a public spectacle of them, and now reigns at the right hand of the Father. Every act of obedience, every prayer of faith, every proclamation of the Gospel, every refusal to surrender ground to darkness -- these are not attempts to earn a victory. They are the enforcement of one already won.
Brothers & Sisters, do not lower your eyes because the battle is fierce. Do not confuse fierce resistance with an uncertain outcome. The Captain of your salvation has filed His report in Heaven: mission complete. Now walk out your life in the authority of that finished victory. Tetelestai!
YOU ARE ADVANCONG A FINISHED VICTORY!
Friday, August 28, 2026
"He wiped out the handwritten record of debts with the decrees against us, which was hostile to us. He took it away by nailing it to the cross." Colossians 2:14
When Jesus cried from the cross, “It is finished,” He was declaring more than the end of His suffering. He was announcing that the debt of sin had been fully paid. The Greek word Tetelestai carried a financial meaning in the ancient world. When an account was settled and nothing remained to be paid, the receipt could be marked with this word: Tetelestai — paid in full. No remaining balance. No future installments. No lingering obligation. The account was closed because the debt had been satisfied.
This gives us a powerful window into the finished work of the cross. Sin created a debt humanity could never repay. No amount of good works, religious effort, personal sacrifice, or sincere regret could clear the account. The debt was too great, the stain too deep, the obligation too holy for fallen man to settle. But Jesus did not come to make a partial payment. He did not come to reduce the balance. He did not come to place mankind on a spiritual installment plan. He came to clear the entire account with His own blood.
This is the beauty of redemption. In Hebrew thought, redemption is tied to the word ga’al — to buy back, to redeem, to reclaim what was lost. The redeemer did not merely feel compassion from a distance; he stepped in, paid the price, and restored what had been forfeited. Jesus is our Redeemer. He entered into our condition, took upon Himself what we owed, and purchased us completely. We were not bought back cheaply. We were redeemed by the precious blood of the Lamb.
You are not on a payment plan with God. Grace is not a loan. Forgiveness is not a temporary extension. Salvation is not Heaven giving you more time to prove you can settle the account. The cross is not a reduced sentence or a lowered balance. It is a settled account. The full weight of the debt was placed upon Jesus, and when He cried, Tetelestai, Heaven received the payment as complete.
This is where the enemy loves to torment the people of God. He whispers, “You still owe.” He points to your past, your failures, your weaknesses, your inconsistency, and tells you that surely there must still be something left to pay. He wants you striving under condemnation, serving from guilt, worshiping from fear, and approaching God as though your account is still in question. But the cross speaks louder than the accusation. The blood of Jesus does not say, “Payment pending.” It declares, “Debt canceled.”
This does not make grace cheap; it reveals how costly grace truly is. The price was not overlooked. It was paid. The debt was not erased by pretending it never existed. It was nailed to the cross. Every charge, every claim, every record that stood against us was taken out of the way through the finished work of Jesus. The handwriting against us has been canceled, not because we were able to pay, but because the Lamb paid what only He could pay.
This is a Kingdom reality. Citizens of the Kingdom do not live under the slavery of unpaid debt. We live under the freedom of redemption. We do not obey God in order to pay Him back. We obey because love has awakened worship. We do not serve to reduce our balance. We serve because the balance is gone. We do not give, pray, repent, or pursue holiness to earn forgiveness. We do these things because we have been redeemed, restored, and brought into the household of the King.
So stop living as though Heaven is still collecting from you what Jesus has already paid. Stop measuring your standing with God by the emotions of the moment. Stop letting the enemy turn conviction into condemnation. The Holy Spirit may correct you, but He will never make you pay for what the Son has already purchased. Correction leads you back into fellowship. Condemnation tries to chain you to a debt that no longer exists.
Brothers & Sisters, lift your head today. Your account is not overdue. Your balance is not pending. Your redemption is not incomplete. The price has been paid. The account has been settled. The receipt has been stamped in the blood of Jeus: Tetelestai.
PAID IN FULL!
Thursday, August 27, 2026
"There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus." Romans 8:1
When Jesus cried from the cross, “It is finished,” He was not merely announcing the end of His suffering. He was declaring the completion of a divine legal transaction. The Greek word Tetelestai carried the weight of finality. In the ancient world, it could be used when an obligation had been fully completed, a debt had been paid, or a sentence had been carried out. In a legal setting, the idea was clear: justice has been satisfied, the matter is settled, and no further penalty remains.
This gives us a powerful lens through which to view the cross. At Calvary, Jesus was not pleading with the Father to overlook sin. He was not negotiating forgiveness as though mercy required God to ignore justice. The cross reveals something far deeper and more holy. Sin was not excused. Sin was judged. The penalty was not dismissed. The penalty was carried. The debt was not forgotten. The debt was paid. The justice of God and the mercy of God met in the body of the Son, and when Jesus cried, Tetelestai, Heaven declared that the case had been settled forever.
This reaches back into the Hebrew understanding of atonement. In the sacrificial system, sin was never treated lightly. Blood was required. The altar stood as a constant reminder that covenant fellowship with a holy God could not be maintained by sentiment, sincerity, or human effort. Sin had to be dealt with. Yet those sacrifices were only shadows. They pointed forward to the Lamb of God who would not merely cover sin for a season, but remove it through the offering of Himself. Jesus did not come to place a temporary covering over our guilt. He came to fulfill the righteousness of God and satisfy the demands of justice completely.
This is why the cross is not weak mercy. It is holy mercy. It is not God pretending sin does not matter. It is God dealing with sin so completely that the accuser has no legal ground left to stand on. Satan may accuse, but he cannot overrule the verdict of Calvary. He may remind you of what you did, where you failed, or how far you fell, but he cannot reverse what Jesus finished. The court of Heaven has already spoken over the redeemed: no condemnation, no outstanding debt, no remaining charge.
Your past is not pending judgment. In Jesus, it has already received a verdict. Paid in full. Case closed. This does not make us careless with sin; it makes us grateful for grace. It does not produce arrogance; it produces worship. When we truly understand that the Son of God carried our judgment, we stop treating forgiveness as a fragile feeling and begin standing on it as a legal reality established by the blood of the Lamb.
There are believers who spend years reopening cases God has already closed. They return again and again to old failures, old shame, old accusations, and old regrets, as though their sorrow can add something to the sacrifice of Jesus. But the cross does not need your condemnation to make it complete. Your guilt cannot improve His blood. Your shame cannot strengthen His sacrifice. When Jesus said, Tetelestai, He was not asking you to finish what He started. He was inviting you to stand in what He completed.
This is a Kingdom truth. The Kingdom is not built on uncertain pardon, but on established righteousness. A people who are still unsure whether they are forgiven will always live beneath their calling. But a people who know the verdict of the cross can rise in boldness, humility, and holy authority. They no longer live as prisoners awaiting sentencing, but as sons and daughters released by royal decree.
Brothers & Sisters, so when the accuser brings charges, do not meet him in the courtroom of your emotions; bring him back to the hill called Calvary. Do not answer shame with explanations, excuses, tears, or self-condemnation. Answer it with the cross. When the enemy tries to drag you back before a case Heaven has already closed, remember that the Judge has already ruled, the Lamb has already stood in your place, and the blood of Jesus is still speaking a better word than every memory, every failure, and every accusation. Justice has been satisfied. The penalty has been carried. The debt has been paid. The sentence has been fulfilled. You are not awaiting a verdict — you are standing in one. Heaven has already stamped your file with one eternal declaration: Tetelestai.
HEAVEN HAS ALREADY RULED!
Monday, August 24, 2026
"When Jesus had received the sour wine, he said, “It is finished,” and he bowed his head and gave up his spirit." John 19:30; "And he said to me, “It is done! I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. To the thirsty I will give from the spring of the water of life without payment." Revelation 21:6
As we continue our study of the Kingdom of God, I want to pause and compare two remarkable declarations that stand like pillars at opposite ends of the redemption story. The first was spoken by Jesus from the cross: “It is finished.” The second is declared from the throne in Revelation: “It is done.” At first glance, they may sound almost identical, but in the Greek they are not the same. They reveal two distinct moments in God’s unfolding plan. At Calvary, Jesus cried out, Tetelestai. In the New Jerusalem, the Father declares, Gegonan. The first announces that redemption has been accomplished. The second announces that redemption has reached its final destination. The cross was not the end of the story; it was the guarantee of how the story would end.
The word Jesus spoke, tetelestai, comes from teleo, meaning “to complete,” “to accomplish,” or “to bring something to its intended goal.” Even more powerful, it is written in the perfect tense, carrying the force of something completed in the past with results that continue. In other words, Jesus was declaring, “It has been finished, and it remains finished.” This was not the cry of a defeated victim fading under Roman power. It was the royal proclamation of the King who had completed the mission entrusted to Him by the Father. The debt of sin had been paid. The sacrifice had been accepted. The veil was about to be torn. The way into the presence of God had been opened. The victory had been secured.
Yet when we come to Revelation 21, we hear another declaration. The Father says, “It is done.” The Greek word is gegonan, from ginomai, meaning “to become,” “to come into being,” or “to come to pass.” The emphasis is not merely on a mission completed, but on a promise fully realized. Everything purchased by the blood of Jesus has now reached its fullness. The New Jerusalem has descended. Death has been abolished. The curse has been removed. God dwells openly among His people. What was secured at the cross is now visible throughout creation.
This distinction reveals a powerful Kingdom truth: we live between Tetelestai and Gegonan. We stand between what has already been accomplished and what is still unfolding. The cross secured our future, but the fullness of that future is still advancing toward its appointed day. This is why the message of the Kingdom carries both confidence and hope — confidence because Jesus has already finished the work, and hope because everything He purchased is moving toward its ultimate fulfillment.
The enemy wants believers trapped in the tension. He wants us staring at what still looks broken, what still feels unfinished, what still seems delayed. But Heaven points us back to Calvary and reminds us that the outcome has already been determined. We are not striving to obtain victory; we are learning to live from a victory already won. Every salvation, every healing, every act of restoration, every transformed life, every answered prayer is a witness that the power of Tetelestai is still moving history toward Gegonan.
Brothers & Sisters, do not let the unfinished places around you convince you that the finished work has lost its power. The cross still speaks. The blood still speaks. The King still reigns. What Jesus accomplished at Calvary is not weakening with time; it is advancing through time. The story that began with a cry from the cross will culminate with a declaration from the throne. The Lamb has finished the work, and one day the Father will declare over all creation, “It is done.”
YOU ARE LIVING BETWEEN TWO DECLARATIONS!
"And he said, “With what can we compare the kingdom of God, or what parable shall we use for it? 31 It is like a grain of mustard seed, which, when sown on the ground, is the smallest of all the seeds on earth, 32 yet when it is sown it grows up and becomes larger than all the garden plants and puts out large branches, so that the birds of the air can make nests in its shade.” Mark 4:30-32
Jesus asked a question: "To what shall we compare the kingdom of God?" (Mark 4:30). They may have expected Him to speak of armies, thrones, and the kind of power that makes empires tremble. They were waiting for the Kingdom to arrive the way earthly kingdoms always arrive — loud, visible, and impossible to ignore. But Jesus reached for something small. A mustard seed. So small it could be overlooked in the palm of a hand. So ordinary that most people would never stop to notice it. And with that simple image, Jesus revealed that the Kingdom often begins in hidden places before it becomes visible to the world.
This should correct the way we measure the work of God. The Kingdom does not always begin with something impressive. It often begins hidden, quiet, buried, easy to dismiss — a word planted in the heart, a prayer no one heard, a child raised in faith, a small act of obedience, a calling that still looks too fragile to name out loud.
But the issue is not the seed's size -- for within it contained life. Jesus said that when the mustard seed is sown, it grows and becomes greater than all the garden plants, putting out large branches so that the birds of the air may nest in its shade (Mark 4:32). In the Greek, the word for "grows" carries the idea of rising up. The seed does not remain buried forever. What God plants may begin hidden, but it does not stay hidden. It rises because the life within it comes from Him.
This is the pattern of the Kingdom. It began in a borrowed manger, in a carpenter's home in Nazareth, among fishermen, tax collectors, and ordinary people who had no earthly power. It moved through dusty roads, village synagogues, through healed lepers, and finally through the shame of a Roman cross. To the world, it looked small. To heaven, it was unstoppable. The prophets had spoken this way long before Jesus told the parable.
Kingdoms and empires were often pictured as great trees — Ezekiel described Assyria like a mighty cedar whose branches gave shade to the nations (Ezekiel 31:3–6), and Daniel saw Nebuchadnezzar as a great tree visible to the ends of the earth (Daniel 4:10–12). Those kingdoms wanted to look large from the beginning. But Jesus reveals a Kingdom that does not begin as a towering cedar. It begins as a seed — not because it is weak, but because it carries a different kind of power. The kingdoms of men grow by force, fear, and control. The Kingdom of God grows by life.
Zechariah asked, "For who has despised the day of small things?" (Zechariah 4:10). That question still searches us. Many despise the early obedience because it does not yet look fruitful. Many despise the hidden preparation because no one is applauding. Many despise the quiet beginning because they have mistaken visibility for value. But God is not confused by small beginnings. He knows what He planted.
The Hebrew prophets spoke of the coming King as the Tzemach — the Branch, the sprout that would rise from David's line. Jeremiah declared that God would raise to David a Branch of righteousness (Jeremiah 23:5). Zechariah spoke of God's Servant, the Branch (Zechariah 3:8), and again of the Man whose name is the Branch, who would build the temple of the Lord (Zechariah 6:12). Even Isaiah saw life coming from what looked like a stump — a Rod from the stem of Jesse, a Branch growing out of his roots (Isaiah 11:1). That is Jesus. A shoot from Jesse's stump. A hidden life rising from covenant roots. What looked small to men was the beginning of the restoration of all things.
So do not despise what God has planted in you, even if it still looks small. The mustard seed does not grow merely for itself — it becomes large enough for the birds of the air to nest in its branches. Your obedience may become shade for someone weary. Your faithfulness may become a shelter for someone broken. Your small beginning may become a place where others encounter the love, mercy, and intimacy of the King. This is how the Kingdom works. It starts small. It grows quietly. It rises steadily. And one day, what everyone overlooked becomes a place of life.
Brothers & Sisters, do not despise the day of small things, because the Kingdom of God has always carried life inside what others overlook. The seed may be hidden, but it is not empty. The beginning may be quiet, but it is not powerless. Jesus knows what He has planted in you, and He is faithful to give it growth in its appointed time. So guard the seed. Water it with obedience. Refuse to measure it by applause, size, or visibility. The same King who rose from the stump of Jesse, who conquered death from the shame of a cross, and who turned a handful of disciples into witnesses to the nations, is still causing hidden things to rise. What He has planted in you will not remain buried forever. It will grow, it will bear witness, and in His time, what once seemed small will become a living testimony of His Kingdom.
DO NOT DESPISE THE DAY OF SMALL THINGS!
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