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Valley of Dry Bones

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There once was a valley, silent, vast, lifeless. Bones everywhere. Not a breath, not a heartbeat. Just the echo of what used to be. Then God asked a question that cut through the silence, “Son of man, can these bones live?” (Ezekiel 37:3) Ezekiel must have looked around, at the skulls, the dust, the hopelessness, and whispered, “Lord, only You know.” Then God said something incredible: “Prophesy to these bones.” Speak My Word over what looks dead. Declare life over what seems gone. And as he spoke, the ground began to shake. Bones rattled and found each other. Flesh grew, breath returned, and an army rose where death once ruled. That’s what happens when the Word of God meets a dead life. Many people today are walking valleys, alive but empty. They smile on the outside but are lifeless inside. Their dreams are dry, their hearts cold, their faith gone. But when the Word of God hits those bones, things shift. Chains break. Hearts beat again. Hope rises. The Word revives. The ...
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The Fire Must Not Go Out

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There was once a man who owned a small fireplace in the middle of a cold mountain village. Every night, he would sit before it, watching the flames dance and the warmth fill his home. But one night, tired from a long day, he thought, “I’ll tend to it tomorrow.” He went to bed. By morning, the fire was gone. The ashes were cold. The warmth had vanished, and the chill crept in like a thief. That’s how it happens with many believers. The fire doesn’t die all at once, it fades when prayer fades. It grows dim when the Word of God gathers dust. It weakens when we choose comfort over communion. Leviticus 6:13 says, “The fire must be kept burning on the altar continuously; it must not go out.” That wasn’t a suggestion, it was a command. Because when the fire dies, faith grows cold. When prayer stops, passion leaks out. When worship becomes routine, the altar turns to stone. And yet, here’s the suspense, the enemy doesn’t need to destroy your fire. He only needs you to stop feeding it. That’s w...
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The Voice in the Wilderness

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In  a dry and forgotten land, a lone voice echoes. It’s not loud enough to please the crowd. It’s not sweet enough to trend. But it carries truth, raw, ancient, and urgent. “The King is coming,” the voice cries. “Prepare the way of the Lord.” And just like in the days of John the Baptist, the world laughs. Some scroll past. Some mock. Some simply don’t care. Yet the voice keeps crying. Because it knows what’s coming. It knows that every prophecy written is aligning like stars in a dark sky. It knows that mercy still speaks, but not forever. You see, even now, God has raised modern-day voices in the wilderness. Men and women who preach righteousness while the world preaches tolerance. People who stand for truth when lies are more comfortable. They’re not perfect, but they’re faithful. And still, the world refuses to listen. It’s easier to dance to noise than bow to truth. Easier to chase pleasure than pursue repentance. Easier to believe that time will always wait. But one day soon,...
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The Remnant

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Once, there was a battlefield covered in smoke and silence. The enemy had struck hard. What was once an army of thousands now lay scattered, some wounded, some weary, most gone. Only a few still stood, trembling but unbroken. And heaven watched. In that moment, God whispered, “These few, these are My remnant.” Today, the body of Christ feels much the same. Churches are full, but conviction is rare. The crowd is loud, but true worship is quiet. Many wear the name “Christian,” yet only a few walk the narrow path when no one is watching. We chase comfort, not the cross. We post Scripture, but not sacrifice. We sing of surrender while clinging to sin. And still, in the shadows of compromise, God is looking, not for the famous, not for the flawless, but for the faithful few. The remnant. They are the ones who still burn when others grow cold. The ones who still weep for souls while the world laughs at sin. The ones who refuse to bow when truth is mocked. They may be few, but those few carry...
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Ichabod – The Glory Has Departed

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There was once a grand church in the center of town. Years ago, the building shook with revival, altars wet with tears, voices lifted in unashamed worship, lives transformed in the fire of God’s presence. People traveled from far to see what God was doing there. But if you walked in today, you’d hardly recognize it. The chairs are polished, the lights are bright, the choir still sings. Yet something is missing. There is no fire. No urgency. The people clap to the rhythm, but their hearts are far away. The preacher’s voice is loud, but the heavens feel silent. It’s Ichabod all over again “The glory has departed from Israel” (1 Samuel 4:21). Friends, this is the danger of living on past glory. Many Christians still talk about what God used to do , about the faith they used to have , about the closeness they once felt. They’re in church, but the presence is gone. They’ve traded the living God for empty religion. One day, the people who are content with Ichabod will stand before God and ...
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In Church but Not in Touch

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There was a man who never missed a Sunday. He sat in the same chair, Bible in hand, lips moving with every hymn. To the outside eye, he looked faithful. But on Monday morning, his temper ruled his home. On Tuesday, his dealings at work were dishonest. By Friday night, he laughed at the very sins he prayed against. He was in church, but not in touch. Jesus once said, “These people honor Me with their lips, but their hearts are far from Me” (Matthew 15:8). It’s possible to warm a chair and yet have a cold heart. To carry a Bible and yet not carry Christ within. And isn’t that what we see today? Crowds gather on Sunday, hands raised high, but by Monday, those same hands are busy with gossip, greed, bitterness, or compromise. The building is full, but the Spirit is grieved. The songs are loud, but the heart is silent. Here’s the biggest part, when the trumpet sounds, when Christ returns, He won’t be looking for church attendance. He’ll be looking for surrendered hearts. Hearts that know H...
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The Watchmen Are Blind

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There was a village once, surrounded by high walls. On those walls stood watchmen, holding torches through the night. Their job was simple: if danger came, they would sound the alarm. The people slept in peace because they trusted the watchmen to stay awake. But one night, something strange happened. Shadows crept toward the gates, wolves in the dark. The watchmen saw them. They whispered among themselves, but not one lifted his horn to warn the people. Some were too tired. Some thought, It’s not my business. Others feared being unpopular if they shouted too loudly. So the wolves entered silently… and the sheep were torn apart in their sleep. Brothers and sisters, this is where we are today. The walls are high, but the watchmen are blind. Many who were called to defend the faith now stay silent while corruption grows, while lies are preached as truth, while sin parades boldly through the streets. Some churches are louder about money than about holiness. Some leaders protect their im...
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