Habakkuk 2: 2-3 And the Lord answered me, and said, Write the vision, and make it plain upon tables, that he may run that readeth it. (3) For the vision is yet for an appointed time, but at the end it shall speak, and not lie: though it tarry, wait for it; because it will surely come, it will not tarry.
A thousand thoughts danced through my mind last night, rehearsed and replayed like echoes in the dark. Then, a message on Instagram pierced the silence—it spoke to me with startling clarity.
It told the story of a man who inherited a grand house, filled with furniture and memories. One day, a stranger appeared at the door, knocking with urgency. “Can I help you?” the heir asked. The stranger replied earnestly, “I want to buy this house.” The man shook his head firmly. “This house is not for sale.”But desperation burned in the stranger’s eyes. “Name your price—I’ll pay whatever you ask.”
Still, the heir refused. Again and again, the stranger returned with offers, each more tempting than the last. Yet the answer remained the same: “No.” Finally, the stranger tried a different approach. “Then at least let me buy that nail sticking out of the wall.” The heir laughed at the absurdity. A nail? What harm could it do? After all, it was only a nail. So he agreed.
But soon the stranger returned, carrying rotten meat, and hung it on the nail.
“You can’t do that!”
Oh, but I can, you sold me the nail that’s in the wall. He replied with a twisted grin.
What seemed harmless at first became a source of decay, a stench that filled the house, poisoning the air. The heir had to leave.
The moral of this story is clear: never surrender even the smallest ground to the enemy. What may appear insignificant—a single thought, a minor compromise, a fleeting weakness—can become the seed of destruction if left unchecked. Evil rarely storms the gates in one blow; it creeps in through cracks, disguises itself in small concessions, and grows until it dominates. To give the enemy one inch is to invite him to take a mile. Guard your heart, your mind, and your purpose with vigilance. Stand firm in truth, because every inch matters. Victory is not won in great battles alone, but in the daily choices to resist, to remain steadfast, and to refuse the subtle encroachments of darkness.
Ephesians 4:27 warns, “Do not give place to the devil.
“Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour:” — 1 Peter 5:8 KJV
We are in a season of preparation. This is not a wasted time, nor a forgotten place. It is the workshop of heaven, where God quietly shapes hearts, sharpening vision and strengthening faith. Every hidden moment, every unseen prayer, every trial endured is part of the divine blueprint. Preparation is not delay—it is design.
The next season will be glorious. What is being sown in secret will be revealed in splendor. The tears of today will water the joy of tomorrow. The wilderness will give way to promise, and the silence will break into song. God is not only preparing us for survival—He is preparing us for triumph. The glory ahead will make the weight of this preparation worthwhile.
We cannot afford distraction. The enemy thrives on diversion, whispering lies, magnifying fears, and tempting us with lesser pursuits. But every moment spent in distraction is a moment stolen from destiny. We must guard our focus like treasure, keeping our eyes fixed on the Author and Finisher of our faith. The enemy’s schemes are small compared to the greatness of God’s plan, but vigilance is required.
So let us walk with steady hearts, anchored in hope. Let us resist the pull of distraction and embrace the discipline of preparation. For when the season shifts, we will step into glory—not unready, not unsteady, but fully equipped to carry the promises of God.
The wilderness seasons weigh heavily on me—I loathe them. They stretch on endlessly, marked by silence so thick it presses against my chest. The days feel long and hollow, the nights echo with uncertainty, and every step seems shaky, as though the ground beneath me might give way at any moment. It is a place stripped of comfort, stripped of answers, stripped of anything that could soothe the ache. There is a silence; God withholds details. He replies, “Trust Me.”
Nothing can fill the emptiness, because it is not meant to be filled by human effort. It is a void—a sacred emptiness—that God Himself has carved out. In that barren space, He intends to do His deepest work. The wilderness is not punishment, though it feels harsh; it is preparation. It is the place where He dismantles what is fragile, exposes what is false, and recreates what is eternal.
Though I resist it, though I long for escape, I know the wilderness is where God reshapes me. It is the crucible of transformation, the silent workshop of His Spirit. And while I loathe its loneliness, I cannot deny its purpose: the void is not abandonment, but invitation. It is the canvas upon which He paints new life, the soil where He plants unseen seeds, the silence where His voice will one day thunder with revelation.
The wilderness is not wasted—it is vital. It is the forge where tomorrow is shaped, the hidden classroom where God teaches lessons too deep for crowded places. Every barren stretch, every silent night, every trembling step is preparation for the season yet to come.
Do not think He has forgotten the promises He whispered over your life. The silence is not neglect; it is a strategy. The waiting is not a delay; it is a design. In the wilderness, He is weaving strength into your spirit, stretching your faith, and sharpening your vision.
He is not still because He is absent—He is still because He is working. Beneath the surface, He is aligning paths, opening unseen doors, and preparing you for your next great walk. The wilderness is the threshold, the rehearsal, the holy pause before the unveiling.
So endure the quiet, embrace the ache, and trust the unseen hand. For when the season shifts, you will step out not fragile, but fortified—not wandering, but walking with purpose into the promises He has kept all along.
James 4:8 says, “Draw nigh to God, and he will draw nigh to you.”
“O lord, thou hast searched me, and known me.Thou knowest my downsitting and mine uprising, thou understandest my thought afar off.” — Psalm 139:1-2 KJV
“I the Lord search the heart, I try the reins, even to give every man according to his ways, and according to the fruit of his doings.”— Jeremiah 17:10 KJV
For many years, I wrestled with the pain of rejection, the loneliness of not fitting in, and the sting of being labeled as odd. I carried those experiences heavily, often turning the blame inward and punishing myself for what I thought were my shortcomings. I questioned my worth, replayed moments in my mind, and wondered why I seemed so different from everyone else.
What I once mistook for flaws were never failures at all, but markers of a path uniquely prepared for me.
This morning, as I gently rose from the quiet embrace of sleep, the first light of dawn broke softly through the fading veil of night. Its golden rays carried more than warmth—they bore a sacred whisper from heaven. In that tender stillness, God’s message unfolded within me, reminding me that His revelations arrive not in haste, but always in the perfection of His timing.
I’ve come to understand that every rejection, every season of solitude, and every label imposed upon me carried a hidden purpose—shaping my spirit, teaching resilience, and preparing me to realize that my identity was never meant to be defined by others, but revealed by God Himself.
There is a weight that comes with a heavy anointing. I asked God a question, “Why, God, is it that every time I’m in a crowd of people or with people, something bad happens, every—single—time?” He answered me that night through a dream. “Darlene, I sent you as a sheep among wolves for a reason. This is how I expose wolves in sheep’s clothing. They are lured in, and I will use My staff against them. That’s what shepherd’s staffs are for.” Yes, the hook is to pull the sheep out of danger.
Be wise as serpents, discerning and discreet—guided not by fleeting emotions but by steady judgment. Be gentle as doves, free from anger or frustration, walking in peace and harmlessness. (Matthew 10:16) We must have strategic awareness. It’s not in debate, it’s vital!
The attack is not random—it is aimed directly at the divine purpose God has planted within you. The enemy resists destiny because your calling carries weight in the Kingdom. People are naturally drawn to the radiant love of Christ shining through you, like iron pulled irresistibly to a magnet. Yet when the anointing upon your life begins to flow, it does more than attract—it illuminates. That light exposes hidden darkness, revealing what was concealed. And in that exposure, resistance rises. But remember: the very opposition you face is proof of the power and purpose within you. The anointing is both a fragrance of life to those who receive it and a mirror of truth to those who resist it.
Matthew 11:15 says:“He that hath ears to hear, let him hear.” (KJV).
Slowly, I drifted from sleep into wakefulness, and the room greeted me with its familiar companions. The decorations sat like patient protectors, unchanged, unmoved, the pictures still whispering their silent stories from the walls. Even the curtains—faithful guardians of twelve years— hung in their familiar folds, as though time itself had chosen not to pass.
Yet within me stirred a restless thought: I longed for change, though I knew the strangeness of the new would press against me like an unfamiliar wind. Still, the ache for renewal lingered— a quiet rebellion against the comfort of sameness.
In that moment, the Holy Ghost began to speak to me about change—not as something to fear, but as a divine invitation to grow. The Lord often works through the circumstances of our lives, especially those that unsettle us, to move us beyond our comfort zones. Comfort can feel safe, but it rarely produces transformation. By permitting challenges, transitions, and unexpected events, God is not abandoning us but positioning us to uncover new strength, to deepen our faith, and to grow in greater dependence upon Him. What feels disruptive is often the very means by which He prepares us for transformation and draws us closer to His heart.
Change, then, is not random; it is purposeful. It is one of the ways the Holy Spirit teaches us resilience, renews our vision, and prepares us for the next season of calling. What feels like disruption is often the very tool God uses to align us with His greater plan. It’s like being rooted in one spot for far too long—your body grows heavy, the blood slows, and a dull numbness creeps into every limb. Muscles stiffen, joints throb, and even the air feels stale, as if life itself is pausing around you. That’s what stagnation feels like: a slow erosion of vitality, a quiet surrender to spiritual slumber.
But my spirit refuses to settle there. I hunger for movement, for growth, for the living waters that flow endlessly from God’s heart. He is infinite—His depths unsearchable, His revelations without end. Each moment with Him holds the possibility of a new horizon, a fresh unveiling of His glory.
Beloved, I encourage you: lean into the changes unfolding in your life, even when they feel unfamiliar or uncomfortable. These shifts are not random—they are sacred invitations, divine nudges guiding you toward something greater than you can yet see.
Change often arrives cloaked in uncertainty, but within it lies the seed of transformation. Don’t resist it. Instead, open your heart to the possibilities it brings. Let go of what was, so your hands are free to receive what is coming.
In these moments of transition, I urge you to turn your heart toward Him. Ask for revelation—not just answers, but divine insight. Ask Him to show you what He sees, to whisper His wisdom into your spirit, and to illuminate the path ahead with His light.
You are not alone in this. Philippians 1:6 declares, The One who began a good work in you is faithful to complete it. Trust that even in discomfort, you are being led into deeper purpose, greater peace, and unexpected joy.
We are in a pivotal moment where God is making the familiar unfamiliar. Get ready for a heavier glory; it’s coming!
“Behold, I will do a new thing; now it shall spring forth; shall ye not know it? I will even make a way in the wilderness, and rivers in the desert.” Isaiah 43:19 KJV
As I sat quietly by the window, watching snowflakes dance like whispered prayers from heaven, my thoughts began to wander. Isn’t it extraordinary how a single word—spoken with grace, wrapped in spirit—can stir the soul and awaken forgotten feelings?
God, in His infinite wisdom, never intended for us to dwell in the shadows of negativity. I found myself asking: What if we lived in a world where every word breathed kindness, every gesture sowed love, and every heart radiated peace? Perhaps such a world seems unreachable. Yet, the power to shift our atmosphere lies within us. Job 22:28 says, “Thou shalt also decree a thing, and it shall be established unto thee: and the light shall shine upon thy ways.” —KJV.
We may not control the voices around us, but we can train our mouths to speak life by walking in the Spirit. We become carriers of light, architects of grace, and vessels of divine love. The world may not change overnight—but when we shift our inner world, we begin to transform the one around us.
While sitting at the funeral home, I quickly typed the message that God reminded me of and needed to be written down earlier. As if the lady sitting behind me could read my thoughts, she said this very thing to another person, “We have to be careful what we speak, because we speak it into existence.”
God created us to speak things into existence and change the atmosphere.
The profound phrase “speak those things that are not as though they were” is found in Romans 4:17, highlighting that our words have divine power to summon into being what does not yet exist. It is often embraced as a sacred principle of faith—an invitation to envision the unseen, declare hope before its arrival, and co-create with divine intention through the spoken word.
Speak the unseen into light,call the distant dream near.Let your words be seeds of becoming,not echoes of fear.Name the healing before the wound closes,the reunion before the road is crossed.Speak not what is, but what shall be—And let love finish the sentence.
To consecrate refers to the process of sanctifying, setting apart, or rendering something holy. The ancient Hebrew term for “consecrate” is קָדַשׁ (qadash), a word that embodies a deep and complex understanding of sanctification. This act signifies not only the dedication of objects or people to divine purposes but also involves a transformative process that elevates the ordinary.
Spiritual consecration, as presented in the Bible, is a significant and transformative act that entails dedicating oneself or an object to God for His divine intentions. This concept is interwoven throughout various scriptures, underlining the importance of being set apart for holiness and service to the Lord.
A key passage that emphasizes the idea of consecration can be found in Exodus 29, which details the consecration of priests. In this text, God guides Moses on how to ordain Aaron and his sons, symbolically distinguishing them for priestly duties. The application of oil in this ceremony represents the anointing of the Holy Spirit, and the responsibilities of the priests involve interceding for the people before God, demonstrating the significant duty that accompanies being consecrated.
I Peter 2:19 says, … “ye are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, an holy nation, a peculiar people; that ye should shew forth the praises of him who hath called you out of darkness into his marvellous light;”
A strong example of spiritual consecration is found in Romans 12:1, where Paul encourages believers to offer their bodies as a living sacrifice that is holy and pleasing to God. This verse captures the core idea of consecration, urging us believers to fully dedicate our lives to God’s purpose. In this way, consecration isn’t just a one-time act but an ongoing expression of devotion and commitment to a life that honors God.
Moreover, 2 Chronicles 7:14 calls for a collective consecration of the people of God: “If my people, which are called by my name, shall humble themselves, and pray, and seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways; then will I hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin, and will heal their land.” This passage highlights the communal aspect of consecration, where repentance and humility lead to restoration and God’s blessing.
In the New Testament, Hebrews 10:10 speaks to the ultimate sacrifice of Jesus, whose offering consecrated believers once and for all. This act not only made it possible for individuals to approach God with confidence but also signified that, through Christ, all who believe are made holy and set apart.
Spiritual consecration serves as an invitation to engage in a deeper relationship with God. It is an acknowledgment of His holiness and our call to reflect that holiness in our lives. Through prayer, worship, and obedience, we actively participate in this sanctification process, striving to align our thoughts and actions with His divine purpose. In this journey, we are reminded that consecration involves both a commitment to be transformed by God’s presence and a desire to fulfill His calling in our lives.to the sacred, highlighting the importance of purity, devotion, and the reverence inherent in the spiritual journey.
Mary came into alignment for God’s purpose by declaring these words, “Behold the handmaid of the Lord; be it unto me according to thy word.” (Luke 1:38 KJV)
Mary, described as highly favored by the angel of the Lord, faced numerous challenges despite her favored status. Rather than leading a life of ease, being highly favored brought her persecution, pain, and a need for sacrifice.
The moment the Holy Ghost enveloped her in a divine embrace; she underwent a profound transformation; it was unmistakable that she had experienced a powerful visitation from God. Similarly, after encountering God’s overwhelming presence atop the mountain, Moses needed to drape a veil over his face to shield those around him from the radiant glow of God’s glory that had saturated his features (Exodus 34:33).
In the depths of Mary’s womb, something more profound than the creation of a new life was taking place. She was told, “Mary, you are carrying a prophecy that the enemy will stop at nothing to obliterate. Evil will emerge from its seat of power. But do not be afraid, for light will inevitably triumph over darkness, swallowing it whole.” It is written, “And there appeared a great wonder in heaven; a woman clothed with the sun, and the moon under her feet, and upon her head a crown of twelve stars: And she being with child cried, travailing in birth, and pained to be delivered. And there appeared another wonder in heaven; and behold a great red dragon, having seven heads and ten horns, and seven crowns upon his heads. And his tail drew the third part of the stars of heaven, and did cast them to the earth: and the dragon stood before the woman which was ready to be delivered, for to devour her child as soon as it was born. And she brought forth a man child, who was to rule all nations with a rod of iron: and her child was caught up unto God, and to his throne. And the woman fled into the wilderness, where she hath a place prepared of God, that they should feed her there a thousand two hundred and threescore days. And there was war in heaven: Michael and his angels fought against the dragon; and the dragon fought and his angels, And prevailed not; neither was their place found any more in heaven. Revelation 12:1-13 KJV
Her position before the earth’s foundations were laid was to carry the promise that the enemy despised. He devised every wicked way possible to stop her from delivering our Savior. Yes, earthly kings arose in haste to protect their reign. It wasn’t about flesh and blood; it was against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, and against spiritual wickedness in high places. (Ephesians 6:12) This battle would only be won by standing tall and strong on bended knees.
Beloved, know that Satan harbors contempt for the promises and calling that reside within your spiritual being. However, take courage, for you have the ability to stand up to the enemy with God’s unwavering declaration that His promises will be fulfilled! His word is an omnipotent, steadfast source of strength and reassurance amid spiritual warfare.
If you seek God with all your heart, you will experience abundant growth and prosperity in various aspects of your life. I pray God grants you the strength and guidance to bring spiritual blessings and fulfillment. Embracing your spiritual purpose will be essential in unlocking the path to your prosperity and realizing the complete satisfaction of God’s divine plan for your life.
Let’s probe into the shame and condemnation. It is a spirit, but not one that comes from God. For many years, I viewed these feelings as a form of punishment, believing they were God’s way of reprimanding me for my shortcomings. This mindset created a heavy weight on my heart, filling me with a sense of unworthiness and fear of judgment. The experience was deeply isolating, as I navigated through moments of self-doubt and guilt, convinced that I was constantly being scrutinized and found lacking in the eyes of God. A preacher I sat under used his carnal ways, drilling them into our souls; it was God’s conviction. He would use these words, “God condemns us,” which is contrary to the word of God. “There is therefore now no condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus, who walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit.” —Romans 8:1 KJV.
The word condemnation means censure, blame, and accusation. This comes from Satan.
Revelation 12:10 calls him the accuser of the brethren who accuses day and night.
Job 1:8-11 Satan goes to and fro to accuse
Zechariah 3:1-2 Joshua the high priest stood before the angel of the Lord wearing filthy rags, which the Lord commanded Satan to remove.
In Romans 8:33, it is declared that it is ultimately God who holds the power to justify us. The story of Job serves as a profound illustration of this truth. Despite facing relentless accusations from Satan, Job remained steadfast and unwavering in his faith, demonstrating that he was truly justified in the eyes of God. Through his trials, Job demonstrated resilience and integrity, proving that divine justification is not swayed by human judgment or worldly challenges.
Conviction is an entirely distinct emotion, characterized by a deep sense of certainty and unwavering belief in a principle or idea. It goes beyond mere opinion; it envelops you with confidence and determination, compelling you to stand firm in your beliefs even in the face of opposition or doubt. This feeling often ignites a passionate drive to pursue your convictions, influencing your decisions and actions with a profound clarity of purpose.
God corrects in love and edification. “For whom the LORD loveth he correcteth; even as a father the son in whom he delighteth.” —Proverbs 3:12
I invite you to take a moment today to reach out to the Lord, seeking His guidance and wisdom. Ask Him to uncover the specific ways and through whom the enemy may be attempting to bring feelings of condemnation and shame into your life. Remember, Jesus is ever-present, ready to heal and transform every aspect of our existence. Embrace the opportunity for renewal and freedom that He offers.
As I lay in bed, the stillness of the night wrapped around me like a heavy blanket sleep completely eluded me. Countless thoughts swirled chaotically in my mind, each vying for my attention. The soft ticking of the clock on the wall punctuated the silence, reminding me of the hours slipping away. It was in that moment that I clearly heard the Lord speak to me, saying, “Offense is a blessing blocker and a destroyer of destiny.” God had a storehouse of blessings for me, and being offended isn’t worth losing what God had in store for me! I got out of bed to write about offenses.
Proverbs 18:19 illustrates the deep impact of grievances among brethren, declaring, “A brother offended is more unyielding than a strong city, and quarreling is like the bars of a castle.” This vivid imagery conveys the fortified nature of a relationship wounded by offense, suggesting that once trust is breached, it becomes as difficult to penetrate as the walls of a mighty fortress.
Similarly, in His teachings, Jesus conveyed the inevitability of offenses in human relationships, stating, “It is impossible but that offences will come: but woe unto him, through whom they come!”— Luke 17:1 KJV. Here, He acknowledges the reality of conflicts and misunderstandings that are bound to arise, while emphasizing the serious consequences for those who facilitate such discord among themselves. A year ago, I experienced a profound moment of revelation that truly liberated me from my pain. In that stillness, God’s voice gently resonated within me, offering comfort and wisdom. He said, “Darlene, you don’t need to burden yourself with the opinions others hold or the way they choose to treat you. Release those worries to Me, and trust that I will handle it in My own way.” His answer filled my heart with peace, reminding me to let go of what I cannot control so that I wouldn’t block my blessing or destroy my destiny.
I’ve come to a profound realization: if we are not vigilant and intentional, we risk becoming like those who hurt us. It’s all too easy to let the malice and negativity of others shape our behavior and mindset. We must guard against this transformation, for we do not want to morph into something unrecognizable, driven by the harmful intentions of those around us.
“If God be for us, who can be against us?” — Romans 8:31 KJV
One day God said, “Darlene, when I say, yes, then who can say, no?” When we know that God is on our side and we have His approval, the opinions of others lose their significance. Their judgments and criticisms fade away in the light of His unwavering support and love, reminding us that our true worth comes from Him alone.
“The people who sat in darkness saw great light; and to them which sat in the region and shadow of death light is sprung up.” Matthew 4:16 KJV
As a fifteen-year-old teenager, I struggled between life and death.
Self-mutilation became my source of relief. Several friends encouraged me to try it. The experience gave me a high. Of course, it doesn’t make sense. How can tearing into the skin with razors and glass cause one to feel high? It’s just as addictive as drugs, alcohol, or anything else. I’ll get into that another time. I couldn’t handle the physical and mental abuse any longer! No one cared! No one listened. Everything behind closed doors stayed there. No one believed me anyway!
Chains of depression, anxiety, and suicidal tendencies lured me into a cold atmosphere. I felt nothing except a sense of justification and liberation. There was no empathy, concern, joy, or awareness of goodness; everyone around me was completely shut out. The thirty pills prescribed by the psychiatrist only worsened my condition. Pain upon pain built a wall between me, God, and everyone else.
Every church I entered rejected me after seeing me dressed in black from head to toe, with dream catcher earrings hanging from my ears and dark makeup on my face. “Can’t you wear something different? Do you have to come like that? This is the house of God.” Many pastors and church members passed me by with disgust. After being turned away five times, I decided to convert to necromancy. What else could I believe? Apparently, I was destined for hell. I belonged to darkness. If there was a God, and if Jesus really did die and resurrect, He didn’t want to waste time on me, or so I had rehearsed in my thoughts.
Cutting became more than just getting high. “Witch— that’s what I want to be, a full-pledge witch!” You name it: tarot cards, palm reading, spell books, seances! I participated.
As I ambled down the familiar path home from town, a woman approached me, her condemning demeanor earnest and inviting as she spoke of her church. Her words tumbled out, heavy with conviction, proclaiming that my current path led straight to hell. With a sardonic chuckle, I shot back, “Tell me something I don’t know!” The stark black polish on my nails stood in sharp contrast to the vibrant autumn leaves scattered around me, and I felt my frustration bubble to the surface.
I clutched the torn pages of a once-sacred text in my hand, now reduced to confetti-like scraps after an impassioned encounter. As I completed my retort, the remnants of that biblical literature flew from my fist, fluttering through the air like a mocking testament to my defiance, landing right in her startled face. “I’ve been there before; the church is crawling with hypocrites!” The bitterness in my voice echoed the painful memories of my past, memories that weighed heavily on my chest, driving me further from the warmth of my grandmother’s love. I couldn’t bring myself to bridge that chasm, not now, not ever.
Allow me to clarify my point: Dismissing the existence of demonic powers and choosing to ignore them does not eliminate their presence or influence. Whether or not you believe in them, these forces remain a part of the unseen world, operating beyond our understanding.
I first came to know my grandmother in 1999. She was a steadfast woman of God, and her unwavering devotion was evident in her relentless prayers. Day after day, she and a lady named Bonnie Miller, whom she mentored, dedicated themselves to prayer and fasting, their hearts filled with hope and love for me. Her prayers, like a gentle but persistent tide, flowed unceasingly as they interceded on my behalf.
As my sister and I strolled down the shadowy street, the cold air of the night wrapped around us like a heavy blanket. It was one o’clock in the morning, and the only sounds were the soft rustle of leaves and our quiet footsteps echoing against the pavement. In that moment, I found myself caught in a relentless internal battle, a tug of war between contrasting voices in my mind.
“Wouldn’t you like to go to church?” one voice urged gently, offering the promise of solace. “You can be free of all this. There’s hope, a new beginning waiting for you.” But just as swiftly, another voice surged up, sharp and bitter. “Remember what happened? You aren’t welcome in the church—any church! You’ll never escape the pain that clings to you like a ghost.” The memories surged forth, unbidden, of harsh words and painful moments. “Remember what your dad did to you? You’re nothing! He said it; they all said it at school. You’re a disgrace to God!”
The echoes of their taunts reverberated through my mind, fueling the war between good and evil. Each side fought fiercely, amplifying my confusion and despair, while the darkness around us deepened, reflecting the turmoil within.
One night, I dreamt of a Man hanging on the cross. Lightning lit the sky. Thunder shook the foundation of the earth. Muscle and skin hung from His bloody, disfigured torso like shredded sheets. He was unrecognizable. No longer was I distant; I suddenly found myself at His feet. Slowly, as I looked up, His blood dripped on me.
The dreams persisted, hunting me night after night. I was uncomfortable not understanding His marvelous light. No matter what I tried, it felt impossible to silence my thoughts. I engaged in countless distractions, attempting to drown out dreams compelling me to the truth, His truth. Yet, amidst this internal chaos, a flicker of hope remained: God always prevails!
Darkness struck back with a vengeance, transforming my once empowering confidence into a paralyzing vulnerability. Questions swirled inside my mind like a relentless storm: “Who am I? What am I?” Fear held me captive through the long, restless nights, leaving me in a state of raw anxiety. Countless times, I jolted awake, gasping for breath as if something sinister were slithering across my skin—its presence accompanied by eerie laughter and hushed, mocking whispers that taunted me from the shadows. The struggle continued throughout the day, casting a shroud of weariness over my body, while waves of nausea and confusion crashed over me, leaving me exhausted and disoriented. Each moment was a battle against an unseen force, tightening its grip with every passing hour.
On several accounts, I attempted suicide by tightening a cord in a knot around my neck. My middle sister pressed her shoulder against the wooden door with all her might, straining against the heavy resistance. As she pushed, the latch gave way with a resounding crack, splintering the lock. With a swift movement, she ran to my side, removing the cord from my neck in a determination to snap me out of the anxiety attack. I took overdoses of valium, anything that kept me from thinking.
I found myself captivated by graveyards, those solemn plots of land where the whispers of the past seemed to linger in the air. I would often wander among the tombstones, hoping for a glimpse of a spirit that might steer me toward the answers I so desperately sought. It was a particularly chilly evening in late October, the sun dipping below the horizon and casting long, looming shadows, when an unfathomable pull guided my footsteps toward Bonnie’s home. Her house sat along the same winding road that led to the graveyard, its silhouette barely visible against the darkening sky.
As I approached, I can say that the answers I sought for that night came from a holy source. Instead, they emerged from the One who conquered death itself. Dressed in my signature black ensemble, complete with razor-cut sleeves and talismanic jewelry that clinked softly with each step, I felt a strange sense of comfort. My makeup, dark and dramatic, could not mask the profound influence of the Holy Ghost that enveloped me, igniting a power far greater than the darkness that held me captive!
At the age of twenty-five, I finally opened my heart to my grandmother, embracing her presence in my life. It all started when she graciously invited me to attend Bible studies hosted by her dear friend Bonnie in her cozy home.
With warmth and sincerity, Grandma’s friend extended an invitation for me to experience a Pentecostal service in my hometown of Richwood, West Virginia. The genuine love and kindness exuded by both of these remarkable women transformed my perspective on Christianity. It became clear to me that their concern for my well-being was sincere and profound; they truly cared for me in a way I had never experienced before.
That Sunday morning, an unfamiliar heaviness settled upon my spirit, a stark contrast to the joy surrounding me. As the new friend I had met performed a heartfelt rendition of “There’s a Miracle in Every Pew” by Aaron Wilburn, a wave of sorrow washed over me, revealing the depths of my own misery. I could feel the gazes of the congregation piercing through the air, but the thought of their judgment was rendered insignificant in that pivotal moment. With a determined heart, I made my way to the altar, each step heavy yet purposeful.
Kneeling down, I cried out, “God, I can’t carry this burden any longer! I can’t continue like this; please take this weight from me and do with me as you choose!” The atmosphere shifted around me, and in that sacred space, I felt the undeniable presence of God enveloping me like a warm embrace. Drenched in His love, mercy, and grace, I laid all my broken pieces before Him, vulnerable and raw.
In that transformative instant, something shifted within me; I was no longer the same. The chains that had long bound me began to shatter in the name of Jesus, their grip releasing as darkness retreated into the shadows. A newfound clarity pierced through the fog of my despair, and I began to see the world through a lens of hope and light.
With a kind smile, the pastor approached and said, “God is going to use you in a mighty way.” Those words resonated deep within me, igniting a spark of possibility and purpose that I had long thought extinguished.
My grandma and her friend’s perseverance encouraged me to fight in prayer for others.
Don’t think for a moment that the blood of Jesus has or ever will expire. Cast away the thought that the prayers for lost loved ones go unheard. Give no place to the voice that says, “You’re wasting your time!”
I’m here to testify that the consistency of fervent prayer breaks chains of darkness!
“Me?” I exclaimed, my voice filled with disbelief as I glanced around at the small group of intercessors standing nearby, their faces a mix of hope and encouragement. “God wants to use me?” As the weight of those words sank in, tears streamed down my cheeks, soaking through my black T-shirt and leaving dark smudges on the fabric. I froze, grappling with a whirlwind of emotions. Just moments ago, I had been consumed by anger and resentment towards God, blaming Him for the chains of evil that bound me. I had inflicted pain on myself and hurled curses in His direction, all while immersing myself in ominous spell books and practicing dark rituals. How could it be possible that He would choose someone like me?
… “The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much.” James 5:16 KJV
At one time, feelings of shame kept me from sharing my testimony. A pastor discouraged me from speaking of it, explaining I would go back into bondage. I realized something: what if the testimonies of those in the Bible went unpublished? How would anyone know His glory embellishes the broken souls of men, women, and children of all nations? No limits!
“Speak of your testimony, the Holy Ghost urged during a group meeting of people from all over the United States in 2014. For the longest time, I hesitated. Without further delay, I gave my testimony. “Thank you for sharing. I thought I was alone. I would have never thought that someone like you went through so much.” The lady’s tear-filled eyes locked with mine. “Don’t ever be ashamed,” she continued. We must share our testimony! “And they overcame him by the blood of the Lamb, and by the word of their testimony; and they loved not their lives unto the death.” Revelation 12:11 KJV
For a long time, I have chosen to remain silent about my past lifestyle, and there’s a purpose behind this decision. I intend to weave these experiences into a book that will candidly depict my journey.
Ultimately, the opinions of others about my story hold little significance. My primary goal is to reach those who are grappling with similar struggles, reassuring them that they are not alone in their fight.
Through my words, I aim to convey messages filled with hope, comfort, and the profound possibility of redemption through Jesus Christ. As both an author and an artist, the idea of volunteering in my community once seemed distant and unimaginable to me. Yet, I have come to realize that Jesus has the power to transform anyone and any situation, turning despair into hope and darkness into light.
… “my speech and my preaching was not with enticing words of man’s wisdom, but in demonstration of the Spirit and of power: That your faith should not stand in the wisdom of men, but in the power of God. Howbeit we speak wisdom among them that are perfect: yet not the wisdom of this world, nor of the princes of this world, that come to nought: 1 Corinthians 2:4-6 KJV
Wherefore I say unto thee, “Her sins, which are many, are forgiven; for she loved much: but to whom little is forgiven, the same loveth little.” And he said unto her, “Thy sins are forgiven.”
I do not celebrate Halloween because I have a deep understanding of its origins and significance. This day, often shrouded in fun and fantasy, has roots connected to ancient traditions surrounding witchcraft and the supernatural. For many, it is a time associated with dark arts and rituals—a day when witches and warlocks would perform sacrificial ceremonies under the cover of night. Halloween carries an underlying meaning that is sinister.
WRITING GOD'S VISION----AUTHOR DARLENE JUANITA CONARD 
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