LESS THAN A MAN

LESS THAN A MAN

By Rick

The penitentiary mess hall was tidy but colorless and institutional; that is, void of any warmth or contrasts. Barred windows and sulky workers. Inmates shuffling past counters of tasteless, stench-filled food that fell barely within government nutritional guidelines of minimum vitamins. I suffered through lunch in the Officer’s quarters and was astonished at how they managed to eat this unappetizing menu with such relish and enthusiasm. I had lost my appetite for this torture when I was informed that the green baby lima beans were really creamed corn! And a fish head was floating around and looking up at me from the sea-food soup! It was a blessing to escape from this noxious event and begin the lengthy walk to the Chapel.

An unpretentious Asian guard or as they prefer to be addressed, Correctional Officer or C.O. for short, began escorting me out of the cafeteria into the dimly lit hallway, down some metal steps and then through a labyrinth of twisting and turning, often loud catwalks past bad-tempered prisoners on lock-down.

In one particular corridor, our gait has hasty but my eyes were drawn to the darkened prison cells in a blurred kaleidoscope of unshaven faces and slumped or sleeping bodies. All at once I stopped in my tracks and turned back to the cell I had just passed by. I had seen an attractive woman stretched out on the bunk in a very alluring pose!

Now wait a minute, wasn’t this an all male maximum security prison? What was a seductive woman doing here? I had turned so abruptly that the Officer did not think to respond before I looked again into this cell to ascertain that it wasn’t a female but rather a transvestite with long silky hair, a smooth shapely body and very obvious breasts. Horrified is an understatement!

Our eyes met in an uneasy brotherhood as I asked, “Would you like to receive Jesus Christ as your Saviour and be born again?” He leisurely got up and off his bunk, then glided in a seductive manner to the bars in front of which I was standing. As he drew nearer and I was able to scrutinize him more he said to me, “How can I change what I’ve done to myself.” His masculine voice startled me. I responded, “You must be born again. You need to change on the inside first and that begins with permitting Jesus to be your Lord. He is the God of miracles and you will become a walking trophy of His grace if only you will become willing and believe.” He looked me in the eyes and whispered, “I want to do that very dearly,” and began to sob uncontrollably.

We slipped to our knees right there on the cold concrete and tenderly held hands through the bars. A woman with man’s hands asking God for a spiritual healing. We prayed a heart-felt prayer and he sincerely asked that he would be delivered from homosexuality and become the man that God had created him to be. Just then the C.O. took my arm securely and said sharply, “We have to keep moving.”

I learned months later that he was severely beaten by his “husband” and repeatedly raped by homosexual “gang-bangers.” The prison administrators had learned of a contract on his life so they transferred him to a single cell in protective custody. The last word I received is that he is remaining steadfast in the Word of God and his family has raised the money for cosmetic surgery to physically reconstruct his manliness.

 

PRESS ON!

http://www.RickMathes.net

http://www.RickMathes.org

MEET REVEREND LUCIFER

MEET REVEREND LUCIFER

By Rick Mathes, author of “Allah or Jesus”

“Just look at me. Recognize the dignity of my office. I publicize with a pomposity of arrogant authority. My stride is purposeful and brisk. My carriage erect and stately. My apparel is fashionable and professional to perfection, as is my Rolex watch, diamond ring and bright false teeth. I’m tailored to accommodate the image of calm assurance and confidence. I’m always conscious of admiring glances and I respond in due course with heightened self-image. I always appear to be as I must in the eyes of others.

“My reassuring manner is well practiced and my handshake firm and manly. Surely, I exude warmth, intelligence and reliability. The same phony impeccable smile, the same imperial posture, the selfsame charisma. Why change a deception that works!

“My words are invariably just inside or outside the truth. Moderation is best accomplished by compromising ambiguity; ill-defined positions established in a humanizing, solicitous fashion. I give the impression that I am piously contemplative, thoughtful and unprejudiced. None of which is true.

“I never take sides so that I can keep controversy alive, especially in Biblical doctrine and apologetics. I only side with the heavy hitter contributors. This approach is shrewd, forthright and politically correct.

“The misimpression of holiness is very material to my intentions. It’s all a matter of expression and demeanor. Stoic and unobtrusive. Quiet and restrained. The appearance of reflection more than the boredom it really is, but it suits my corrupted purposes. I am held in high esteem by fake Christians. I’m appointed not anointed. Don’t look for Him, just look at m

PRESS ON!

http://www.RickMathes.net

http://www.RickMathes.org

e!”

 

I’M NOT READY YET

I’M NOT READY YET

By Rick Mathes

Walking down a metal cat-walk past prison cells of convicts is an awesome experience that is novel and exhilarating every time. There is an electrifying adventure about it that cannot be adequately described. You never know which prisoner will reach out for Jesus and be saved. It is thrilling to look a prisoner in the eyes with love and encourage him to accept Jesus Christ as his Lord and Saviour. I can imagine that this feeling has similarities to a hunter in the midst of perilous jungles seeking the prey and being sought by the predator. The spiritual combat is indescribable in this heart of hell, called a cell-block. A locus, a concentration of evil. Satan’s turf.

It was in this sense of spiritual adventurism that I was followed by a blue uniformed guide to the prison chapel. We approached the stairwell, serpentine corridors and vacated court yards. Each lower floor level became darker, dirtier and more austere until we leveled off on a dingy walkway with the strongest aroma of stench I have ever smelled!

This was the dungeon within the dungeon for detention of the most evil offenders. A dimly illuminated community of “slickers.” A slicker is an incommodious drab cell with bricked-in windows, no cot, sink or toilet. Nothing but the pollution of an endless number of previous residents. No attempt whatsoever had been made to clean up. A hole in the floor dropped directly into the cesspool that was rumored to back up regularly in these cells. This was the home for those who were ill-suited to live with the other residents. Rejected by their own kind! The odor caused me to gag and gasp for air.

The officer was determined to hustle me out of this, “No Visitor” area. His stride picked up and I was close on his heels escaping this restricted zone. The wall shackles dated back to before the Civil War era of slavery. The men were strangely hushed, either seated on the floor or standing up with a drugged glaze in their eyes. No sound. Silence. No radio, televisions or even idle chatter. A thick dark cloud of oppression; Satan was there.

One of these pathetic captives caught my attention. What I saw and what he said to me has everlastingly cemented itself in my memory as though it just happened yesterday.

He was crouched like a creature on the cement floor. If you looked closely you could see the filth he sat in undulate with the vermin that lived in it. He wore only his grossly stained underwear and his hair was standing out in a frightful, wild fashion. He eyes were bulging and yellow. His fingernails long and his toenails curling under. His matted beard barely hid his rotted teeth and infected mouth.

I spoke out, “You need to accept Jesus Christ as both your Saviour and Lord!” He didn’t arouse. I cried out another time, “Jesus is your only salvation. It’s time to repent and receive Jesus!” He turned and looked me full in the face but gave no indication of reply. Finally, the guard angrily took my arm to keep me moving. I shouted behind me, “Why won’t you do this?” I will never forget his heart wrenching reply. “I’m not ready to give it all up yet.”

I was horrified as he left my sight but not my spirit. I still mourn over those who still repeat those words, “I’m not ready to give it all up yet.”

PRESS ON!

http://www.RickMathes.net

http://www.RickMathes.org

GROUND AND POUND

 GROUND AND POUND

By Rick Mathes

Satan is a formidable opponent and is the champion of all unbelievers. He has won all his matches with those that train in the flaming camp of this world’s kingdom. Prejudice is his number one weapon for becoming the forerunner of many future victories: fools fall so easily for it stealth blow. It doesn’t matter if it sex, skin color, faith, natural origin, political sway or economic status. I can’t help but comment that the believers understand that we are all equally created in His image and likeness. Stripped of our bodies, we would all look identical to each other! If only those infested with sin specialties knew that only Jesus and His are beautiful just as they are.

These scavengers of sins garbage dump called earth will love sin over the Savior, selling Him out for “chump change.” The will consent to the beating they have taken from their life choices, pass blood and vomit the return of their investment: red eyes and throbbing headache it’s reward. How sad. And then they look for more sewer sludge to wallow in as darkness covers their deeds and the odor overwhelms their senses.

The Light I out and only darkness prevails on the inevitable downward slide to depression and walking dead. Despair washes over in an overwhelming tsunami of pain, hopelessness and suicide. I know; I’ve been there and I remember those dismal days of sobbing in tears that wouldn’t come anymore, a sinner plainly needing a Savior.

I still had to pick myself up one more time and sing, “I did it my way!” until the joke was on me: my way was death, insanity or incarceration. It became crazy to say that this was fun. I had few alternatives. I had to kill myself or surrender to the King. I was a coward to pull the trigger and end it all (make it all begin again in flames) so I chose the slow death of alcohol, drugs, sex and crime. Maybe you have been there also where death seemed to be the only solution.

Well, I learned that the undefeated champion of hell was “unbelief.’ God cannot save you from the devil’s assault of self-destruction if your name is unbelief. A thousand crucifixions of our Lord could not help you. Satan will make you tap out! Choosing the devil is one you will regret for many forever’s!

What “Plan B” is better than a risen Savior? Think, stupid before you make the wrong choice again!

PRESS ON!

http://www.RickMathes.net

http://www.RickMathes.org

GOD’S DIRTY DOZEN

GOD’S DIRTY DOZEN

By Rick Mathes

(Author of “Allah or Jesus”)

If I were to get to know those who know you best and ask them all the questions I could think of about you, I would get to know you very well, wouldn’t I? Well, then it stands to reason that if we get to know God’s best friends real well, we will get to know a whole lot about God, won’t we? Let’s then make some observations of those that he used, each in a mighty way. I call them, “God’s Dirty Dozen.”

First, we have Abraham. His parents were idolaters and I’m sure as a young man, you could see him with his Watch Tower Magazine under one arm and the Pearl of Great Price book under the other, being chauffeured in his stretch limo to the nearest name-it claim-it, go-go cult of carnal hustlers in the name of Allah. And yet, god used him to emerge as the father of the chosen nation.

Now we know that Joseph didn’t do it. Potipher’s wife knows he didn’t do it. God knows he didn’t do it. And we all know he didn’t do it. But when Joseph filled out the application to be Prime Minister of Egypt it read, “Have you ever been convicted of a felony?” He was an ex-con with a record of being a sex offender and yet God used him in a mighty way.

Let’s also remember Moses. He looked both ways, killed the Egyptian with his bare hands and then had the audacity to dig a hole and bury him in broad daylight in front of witnesses. That is a classic, premeditated, first degree murder! If that happened today, he would be on death row awaiting execution. And yet, God used him in a mighty way.

And what about David? He didn’t have the guts to assassinate so he ordered a hit man to knock off Bathsheba’s husband so that they could keep their torrid love affair going. David should have had a jail cell next to Moses! And yet, God used him in a mighty way.

Do you really think the Priestess Rahab went around the temple genuflecting and lighting holy candles? Of course not! She was a temple prostitute that sold her body for dirty money just like any two-bit trash on the waterfront. And yet, God used her in a mighty way.

“If the children turn out bad, it must mean that the parents weren’t any good!” It ain’t necessarily so. There aren’t any fathers that raised their sons worse than Eli and Samuel and yet God used them both in a mighty way.

And have you ever heard the saying, “When the going gets tough, the touch get going?” Some Christians have turned tail and ran when the Lord needed them the most. Just like Mark did, so quickly that he left his clothing in the clutches of a cop and escaped naked.! And yet, God used him in a mighty way.

Can you imagine saying, “No, dammit! I have never known this criminal named Jesus!” God forbid, it would never leave my lips even in the torment of torture. But with the gentle pressure of a teenage servant girl, Peter the Rock, turned into a little pebble when he denied the Lord quicker than a New York heartbeat, not once but three times within a couple of hours. His eyes met those to his Lord and he realized the shallowness of his commitment. And yet, God used him in a mighty way.

I am blessed that Paul did not divulge to us the gruesome particulars of all the atrocities he inflicted on blameless Christians or I would be less given to read and study his Epistles. I suspect that I might forgive him but I would not forget. The captivity, injustice and even annihilation of these gentle souls might possibly raise a doubt about Paul’s conversion experience. Was he beyond being saved? And yet, God used him in a mighty way.

If you have been counting, that’s just ten. Including you and I, it makes an even dozen. My life was so depraved that I cursed God, shook my fist at heaven and demanded that if He existed, to kill me to end the nightmare I was living.

He saved me that night and I have been sharing the Gospel in jails and prisons ever since.

What about you?

MissionGteMinistry@msn.com

www.MissionGateMinistry.org

PRESS ON!

http://www.RickMathes.net

http://www.RickMathes.org

GABRIEL AND MICHAEL

 

GABRIEL & MICHAEL

By Rick Mathes

It was a gray, drizzly daybreak as I drove my car within sight of the cold and foreboding walls of the double-fenced penitentiary. The guards were cautiously stirring about in the look-out towers with their high-powered rifles plainly in sight. The razor wire was twisted over what seemed to be an illimitable perimeter around this bizarre city, a community of captives. The human garbage of society had been dumped on this sight.

I parked in a visitor designated lot and felt a thousand eyes upon me as I briskly walked to the main gate. The noises that only prisoners make were bouncing off of the stone walls as I caught glimpses of convicts spying out between the steel bars. They had already begun the news broadcasting by word of mouth and runners, that general population would be permitted to attend my chapel service. I had no idea that within a few hours a surge of inmates would be gathering to join me. I just walked in forced boldness to cover up my fears and apprehensions. I knew the Lord was with me and that this was going to be one of those times when I would need to step out of the boat and not hold on to the sides.

Once cleared at the electric eye and after a very thorough search by a stoic matter-of-fact officer, I was taken into the cool morning air. That first deep breath freed my lungs of the stale prison pungency of the central control quarters. A world within but without the real world. A society of degenerates that only an ex-convict can truly comprehend and yet fail to explain to outsiders.

Across the metal walkway, down the loose clanking steps and through the yard to my assigned housing unit. A muscular, tall C.O. with a disgusted look on his face was my pathfinder through the shadowy passageways to the prison chapel. Needless to say, I was quite dependent upon him and noticeably astonished that he had no weapon whatsoever. The meaning of vulnerability was taking on a whole new dimension for me. I discovered I could walk and pray at the same time!

My first scheduled stopover was a dormitory housing fifty prisoners in an open security area. Each cubical had three waist high walls in open sight to those officers securing the area. A space with a sense of property; home. They were mostly all still asleep with only a few shuffling about. A coffee aroma sweetened the otherwise rancid air. I surveyed the challenge that lay before me. It was my dubious blessing to go from bed to bed and tell them about Jesus while they were still asleep on a Saturday morning. I was permitted only two hours to circulate the room and then move on to the next clearance area, the hole. I felt like David when he first faced Goliath.

Two correctional officers with short clubs hanging from their belts greeted me with broad smiles. “So you’re the one that’s going in there to talk religion, are you?” The tall skinny one taunted. “Yes, I am,” I replied. “Well, let me remind you that you will be entering at your own risk and the waiver you signed releases us from any personal liability that may occur.” “I understand perfectly,” I replied nervously. I continued, “But let me ask you a very obvious question. What happens if I go in there and a serious problem should develop?” They both laughed out loud and when they regained their composure, the inconsiderate obese guard responded, “You see, it’s like this. We secure the gate from the outside and when the clamor dies down, we go in to see what happened and the medics tend to the injured! There are only two of us and neither of us wants to go home on a stretcher!”

My heart sank to my socks. I had imaginations of brutal beatings, gang rape, torture and maybe a violent death racing through my brain all at the same time. My body, not just my hands, but my whole body began to visibly tremble. I though of the fiery furnace, the den of lions, then dropped to my knees. They turned their heads as I cried out to the Lord. “Oh, Jesus, you got me into this and you’re going to have to get me out of this!”

After a moment of prayer, a peace flooded my soul and I knew it would be OK. I deliberately rose to my feet and clutching my well-worn Bible, I stepped through the open gate. The two CO’s didn’t say another word but the clank of the key and the squeaking of the hinges triggered my adrenaline. With a pounding heart, I walked into the dormitory and was greeted by a nerve shattering crash behind me as the steel gate slammed shut and was bolted!

At once my eyes were drawn to two powerfully build inmates that were quickly approaching me! Both topped six feet and I’m sure tipped the scales at a muscular 250 pounds each! One was black and the other white. I stopped breathing as they reached out for me!

“Praise the Lord! Glory! Hallelujah!,” the black convict bellowed as the other gave me a bone crushing bear hug and said, “You just stick with us and we’ll tell these clowns about Jesus together! And don’t worry. Nobody is going to mess with you unless they come through us first! You can take that to the bank.”

Jesus Himself had sent Gabriel and Michael to lift my arms. Over twenty first time decisions resulted from the three of us witnessing the Gospel according to Jesus.

PRESS ON!

http://www.RickMathes.net

http://www.RickMathes.org

FISHERMEN

FISHERMEN

By Rick Mathes

You don’t force a hook into the mouth of a fish. You get his favorite bait on your lure and coax him to take a bite and bingo, you have him. This same principle applies to humans and winning souls to Christ. You have first to lure them with good bait. That is meet them at their need as show them the Word has the cure.

So the first issue is to attract a prospect. I really believe who your really are speaks a lot louder than what you say. It’s been said many times that you might be the only Christ they will ever see this side of glory.

A turning point for me was going to a Christian bachelor party. We didn’t have any drugs, no booze and no belly dancers or porno movies and we were having such a good time that his mom had to chase us out of the house at 2am with a broom! I have never laughed so much ad so hard in a long time!

Another tie I was attending a Christian businessmen’s luncheon when I said to them all, “You’re not going to tell me you guys are successful and honest in your business dealings are you? You have to be kidding me. There’s no such thing as an honest merchant or professional! They all and a gasp and then a good hearty laugh at me.

Brace yourself for instant conversions. Some that you share the good news with are primed by the Holy Spirit and explode like dynamite. That was my experience.

I do know that a good fisherman keeps real close to the truth when exalting Jesus. This is real serious business and nothing to have sport with. We will have to account for every word and action before the Lord someday. We can exaggerate about the fish that got away but when it comes to soul fishing, only the gospel truth will do.

We receive salvation and are rewarded with persecution. We clean up our lives and fight the rest of our life to stay that way. We are released of anger and fear but it is replaced with sorrow and heartbreak. Salvation is free but it costs everything. Be a good fisherman for souls and Jesus will bless your catch and multiply it.

PRESS ON!

http://www.RickMathes.net

http://www.RickMathes.org

DOING LIFE WITHOUT

DOING LIFE WITHOUT

By Rick Mathes

Ephesians 2:12 (NASB77) 12  remember that you were at that time separate from Christ, excluded from the commonwealth of Israel, and strangers to the covenants of promise, having no hope and without God in the world.

What would you do if you didn’t have Jesus? What is your “Plan B?” or second choice? I bet I know: nothing but you. Without God all you have is naked you walking through a field of deadly land mines A Christless life is no life at all. Ask any born-again believer if they would ever trade their relationship with Jesus for friendship with the devil. I can speak for them, there is no life without Jesus. It is all smoke and mirrors of that lifetime of nightmares are as fresh as yesterday to my thoughts. I can’t imagine turning my back on Jesus and walk alone to my inevitable damnation.

Remember the Hymn, “What a friend we have in Jesus?” It was the text of my first sermon in our local county jail service. What better friend can you have but Jesus? He personifies agape love. He is Love. He’s all the friend you will ever need. His family makes a house a home.

Just think what would happen to your family, spouse and children if Jesus didn’t live with you all. It would be a living hell to balance all that need to be done in a healthy, prosperous family if Jesus wasn’t welcome to be an important part of all you do. A family would not be a family without Him. It would e self-serving chaos.

I can’t see any hope on the horizon of a Christless home. There would be dry dynamite around every corner just aching for a lit match. What good would there be but that which served selfish needs. When everyone is out for what they can get, the means justifies the end and that results in hopelessness. What is there tolive for when you are planted in the ground and all you once owned is rusting and deteriorating into waste and rubbish?

A Godless life is not life at all. Without God you are just walking dead looking for a place to be buried. I can’t even imagine what is going through the mind of antitheist. How can they say, “There isn’t a God” if there wasn’t a God to say there isn’t one of? Makes sense to me!

CONDEMNED

CONDEMNED

By Rick Mathes

Twenty-six weekend revivals in twenty-six prisons over two states simultaneously! It had never been done before. The logistics of this prison invasion boggled my mind, not to mention the trembling of my heart. Over a thousand volunteers would have to be instructed, assigned, security cleared and coordinated with musicians all at the same time. Well, this overwhelming task sure go my soul winning juices going as I sharpened my marketing skills and committed to this undertaking. Direct mail, church meetings and endless phone calls. A blur of apprehensive Christians caught up in the peer group pressure, contagious excitement, invading prisons for Christ. Setting the captives free

As the December invasion drew nearer, I became disquieted and panicky of possible prison violence and danger. I had recruited these lambs and sent them to the slaughter. The prisoners would chew them up and spit them out. I was walking in fear and doubt. My spirit had weakened and at least I had enough discernment to press on in prayer an fasting in preparation for this spectacular event. While deeply into it, the Lord impressed me on the importance of spiritual combat.

The light turned green and the invasion was a go when I received an eleventh hour call from death row in the state maximum security prison over 100 miles from me. They wanted to participate and not be left out. I volunteered to do a Sunday morning service and the arrangements were made.

I arrived at the penitentiary earlier than the visitors and subsequent to a very meticulous search I was permitted to enter the confined security area clutching my Bible. I entered the walkway with ten thickly screened cages on both sides that were only three feet square and barely tall enough for a man to stand up in. Very comparable to a zoo. Extremely debasing and smothering. I made a stand at the gat and resolved to preach out and down the corridor. I wasn’t sure anyone would show up so I just paced the floor and prayed.

Three hours had passed before all the C. P. (capital punishment) inmates were positioned in these cramped cubicles. Each C.P. had to be brought out one man at a time, cuffed from behind and leg-shackled. A further obstacle was caused by the “No Physical Contact” rule in effect. The unbroken pathway caused much complaining and inconvenience for the other prisoners. One by on they stepped into these disgraceful cages and the cuffs and chains were removed. No physical contact whatsoever. They were phlegmatic and sulky and then it really hit me!

I was in an arena of death row prisoners that had committed crimes that were so unforgivable that civilized society required their lives as retribution. They had all been sentenced to die by lethal injection. Not competent to live. They would all eventually walk that last mile and return in a box. The awesome responsibility for their souls overwhelmed me and it was at that instant that I experienced a tremendous illustration from the Lord that has influenced my ministry to this day.

I opened us up in prayer and began turning to Psalm 51 when I noticed that I couldn’t see the print very well. I searched myself and realized that my glasses were missing and I would be helpless to read the text without them. Why would God do this to me? Didn’t he know how significant this service was? What did he expect me to do now? On my left was a murderous looking convict with a sneer across his disfigured and pock-marked face. Impulsively, I asked him if he could read this for me. He said he would.

I remembered a television service I had watched where the minister had someone read each line, and the preacher would preach. Seemed like a good idea to me, so I put the open Bible against the screen for him to read. And he began to read slowly and reverently, not however pausing for me to preach. Everyone hung on every word and the Spirit of God settled down on them in an incredible way.

When he was through, I couldn’t believe my eyes! One by one they dropped to their knees and began weeping. I hadn’t preached a singe word. Instinctively, I did a call to repentance and they responded as one. We then sang some praise songs to Jesus and the sentry ushered me out and on to the street. My head began to clear and the lesson sunk in.

Jesus Christ had done the service and what could I have possible have added to Psalm 51 but a death row convict to read it? My lesson? The Lord was with them before I got there and that He had remained after I left, still setting captives free 2,000 years later!

 

CAUSE EFFECT

Satan JC

CAUSE – EFFECT

By Rick Mathes

Every cause has as effect, every action has a reaction, and every effort has a consequence and so on. You can always tell the value of the tree by the fruit it will produce. Truth may be obscured by a lie but it will truth will prevails, it will emerge.

J.I. Packer: “Justification is the truly dramatic transition from the status of a condemned criminal awaiting a terrible sentence to that of an heir awaiting a fabulous inheritance.”

Repentance is God’s answer to Satan’s sin. John the Baptist, Jesus, Paul, and Peter all began their ministry with an altar (alter) call. This is an acknowledgement of an upward call to holiness. To be holy we must first be wholly His. You can’t be part pregnant nay more than you can be part saved. Jesus wants all of you or none of you: it’s that simple.

Repentance is a full pardon from the King. If ever you have even did time in a prison you really understand a retrial that provides you with an acquittal from all charges and a release from the prison cell. “Bunk your junk.” I have picked up more than one who when we got through the prison gate fell to the ground outside the fence and kissed it. I’m sure we’ll do the same when we sets foot in glory.

Repentance is a new lease on life. You were one a dead man looking for a place to be buried. It’s a personal renaissance to a better level of existence and a new life in Christ like you have never imagined. If you really have the Lord it is quite comfortable and He fits like an old shoe, so to speak. The tail doesn’t wag the dog anymore.

Remember though, the sin you have is the sin you want more than Jesus. Because if you didn’t want it more than you do want it you would have it! The devil didn’t make you do it.

Repentance is a gift of love from God. It’s the key that opens your heart to believe and obey the Lord of your salvation. You can accept it as the Holy Spirit’s labor of love, AMEN?