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- Written by: Don Goulding
Do not judge so that you will not be judged. Matthew 7:1 (NETFull)
Every surface of the cell oozed with self-righteousness. Along with my fellow prisoners, I combed the Scriptures deciding whom to denounce outside our bars. By incremental arguments, we redefined acceptable to mean just like us. We wrote out the names of those we exposed and chanted their infractions. The name of our dungeon was Judgmental.
One morning the door scraped open and a shaft of light cut through the gloom. My grinning Savior strode to the corner with his hand extended.
“All right friend, enough of this nastiness. Let’s get you out of here.”
He led me into a world of glimmering beauty. There were bright skies, pounding waterfalls, and space—open space everywhere. My Lord proclaimed me forgiven and showed me laughter and music.
I knew so little of what free people did that I felt out of place. Seeking the door of my prison, I found my cronies still there. They had my name on their lists. To appease them, I found my old notebook and read some names aloud. But the fetid air began to take its toll and I had to get out.
Tucking the notebook under my arm, I pushed the door until a strong hand stopped it halfway. I peered into the face of my shining Friend.
“Not with that thing you don’t.” He nodded at the list. “You can stay in there to condemn others, or you can live free out here. But what you cannot do is accept my forgiveness, live in my land, and keep that notebook. Not one page or a single accusation, they must all stay behind. Choose.”
Prayer: Lord Jesus, I choose to let you be the Judge.
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- Written by: Don Goulding
“Prophesy over these bones, and tell them: ʻDry bones, hear the word of the Lord. This is what the sovereign Lord says to these bones: Look, I am about to infuse breath into you and you will live.’” (Ezekiel 37:4-5 NET_FL)
“Holy God, we claim the space between these trees for your purposes today. We anoint the trunks with oil to represent your Holy Spirit and declare to the heavens that evil spirits and distractions against your truth are not permitted in this place.”
Several African brothers prayed with me to cordon off a meeting area in the middle of a village suffering from demonic attacks. That day, we challenged the tribals, “Burn your implements of witchcraft and see what God will do inside of one week.”
As we preached against charms and fetishes, I spied a chief slipping off his amulet. We then cleansed the village through prayer and God answered. The attacks ceased.
Why did we need to speak the words of God inside that village? Why not pray in silence from the mission station? Why did God take Ezekiel to the valley and tell him to prophesy so the bones would come to life? Could it be that our Father in heaven waits to work through the authoritative prayer warrior?
I get the false idea that prophecy is for guys with wild hair foretelling the future. In reality, to prophesy simply means to proclaim the truth of God against the dysfunction of the world. Every Christian is called to that ministry.
Where there is pain we are to lay hands on dry bones and pray for life. We are to call into existence the eternal healing that Jesus came to give. He could do it alone. Instead, he waits for the prophet to extend a hand, raise their voice, and proclaim, “Hear the word of the LORD. I am about to infuse breath into you, and you will live.”
Prayer: Holy Spirit, show me to whom I am to prophesy today.
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- Written by: Don Goulding
He said, “Throw her down!” So they threw her down, and when she hit the ground, her blood splattered against the wall and the horses, and Jehu drove his chariot over her … “Dispose of this accursed woman’s corpse. Bury her, for after all, she was a king’s daughter.” But when they went to bury her, they found nothing left but the skull, feet, and palms of the hands. (2 Kings 9:33-35)
Racing one hundred forty kilometers per hour through the ancient tiled buildings of Esztergom, Hungary, three intoxicated medical students crashed their BMW. Two pedestrians were badly injured, one passenger went into a coma, the driver and his seat-mate were both decapitated.
The next morning, I sat across the roadway at an outdoor coffeeshop. The gore had been removed but I couldn’t avert my eyes from the site. The Spirit of God spoke to me about the horrific outcome of sin. It clung to me like smoke from rancid garbage.
I get too relaxed among evil. I treat wickedness like a rich uncle who lets me live with him. I laugh and stay in his house because he pays my bills. Just so, as long as the world pretends to care for me, I indulge its vile.
God is never comfortable with sin. It’s not my place to judge others, but I need to be sickened by my own wrongdoing as God is sickened. Everything from exaggeration to copy-write infringement, from rude comments to impure thoughts—it all adds up to revolt against Jehovah.
Our free will is a sacred right with eternal consequences. Every choice alters the universe for good or bad. So to God, sin is never laughable, rather it’s blood-splattering, head-rolling, life-decimating evil. Every unholy act, word, and thought will be punished, whether in hell, or, thanks to Jesus, there is one more way divine wrath can be spent against evil—on the cross.
Prayer: LORD God, help me to despise my sin as you do.