Joshua gazed out over the Promised Land; it was breathtaking—a place of inheritance, destiny, and fulfilment. But then there was Jericho! A fortified stronghold stood between God’s people and the land He had promised them. God didn’t remove it; He told Joshua to be strong, because every inheritance given by God must be claimed by us. Until we are strong enough to take it, we won't be strong enough to hold on to it. God knows we can’t change what we won’t confront. Strongholds are real. For us, they are not ancient cities, but patterns of thinking, habits, fears, or lies that we’ve believed for years. Strongholds keep us from stepping into the life God has planned for us. And the biggest stronghold is almost always this: wrong thinking about who we are and what we have in Christ. In Christ, you are strong—not because of your personality or a perfect past, but because of the power of the Holy Spirit within you. As disciples, we must understand that how Jesus lived serves as a model for our daily walk and that Heaven empowers us in our humanly impossible tasks. God has given us ample power through the Holy Spirit to enter into His inheritance, which He has invited us to share with Him. 

Friend, we are not meant to live limited by strongholds. We are meant to tear them down. So today, face the stronghold. Name it. Confront it, because all the land and all the promises of God are yours and yes in Christ. Come on, every time it lies to you, shout it down! The only thing between you and possessing all that He has made yours is the decision to be strong in Him.

In Messina, we saw the biggest ancient astronomical clock in Italy. As we waited, lions roared, roosters screeched, and when the angels and saints inched around the circle, it seemed to take forever. Sometimes we think that it goes too slow, but in God’s hands, it’s a tool. It humbles us. It slows us down. It teaches us to love, to forgive, to endure. Time wasn’t part of Eden’s blueprint. It was God’s gift to humanity the moment we fell. Why? Because redemption takes time. Forgiveness takes a moment, but transformation takes a lifetime. God gave us time to get to know Him and learn to love. One day, “...There should be time no longer.” Revelation 10:6. When redemption is complete, time will have served its purpose. If salvation is just about forgiveness, it could happen in a day. But redemption is about being conformed to the image of Jesus—and that takes time. We’re not just being saved from something; we’re being prepared for Someone. Heaven isn’t just a destination—it’s likeness to Jesus. Time burns slowly, but character is forged, pride is broken, and love is refined. Sometimes even failure is formation. When Rebekah was being brought to Isaac on the camel, it was a time the servant could talk about and reveal the bridegroom to her. By the time they met, she felt like she already knew him.  

Friends, we have the gift of time to sit and talk with Him, so we can get to know Him, and He us, for neither Jesus nor we want to be surprised on the day of the wedding, and find we never knew Him.

Peter saw Jesus on the shore and leapt into the water. He was so glad Jesus was alive, but his heart felt a collision of hope and shame. He carried the weight of denial, fear, and failure, haunted by the memory of his weakness when Jesus needed him most. Yet Jesus didn’t meet him with rebuke or accusation. He asked one question, three times: “Do you love me?” Not “Why did you fail?” or “How could you?”—but “Do you love me?” Because love is the beginning of restoration. In the New covenant, Spirit-empowered love for Jesus is the motivation for obedience, righteousness, and holiness. Jesus knew that if Peter still loved Him, then the future could be redeemed.

This is the mercy of Christ: He doesn’t define us by our worst moment, but He can use it. Our failures humble us, and humility equips us to minister to “lambs” with compassion. Those who’ve tasted brokenness are safest to care for the broken. Jesus didn’t disqualify Peter—He recommissioned him. And He does the same for us. When we miss the moment, shrink back in fear, or fall short in faith, He doesn’t shame us. He simply asks, “Do you love me?” Because if we do, He invites us to walk with Him again and reveal His heart to sheep both lost and found.

Friend, there was only one man on that beach who had never failed.  And Jesus walked in perfect humility because He perfectly loved the Father and perfectly loved people. We don’t love perfectly but when we turn from failure and turn to Him, He can heal the past and free the future. So no matter what happened yesterday, last year, or five minutes ago—He just asks, “Do you really love me?” Yes, Lord. “Well, we can go on from there!”

Anneke and I went to Malta in June to see St Paul’s Bay. We saw mega yachts, tourists, but no snakes. After his shipwreck, Paul washed up on the island of Malta, cold and wet, but alive. “But when Paul had gathered a bundle of sticks and laid them on the fire, a viper came out because of the heat, and fastened on his hand… But he shook off the creature into the fire and suffered no harm.” — Acts 28:3,5. The locals assumed he was cursed, a murderer who had escaped the sea only to be judged by fate. But Paul didn’t defend himself; he simply shook the snake off into the fire and kept going. People who don’t know God often judge your worth by your wounds. They see the bites and assume you’re cursed. But they don’t know the promise over your life. They didn’t know that neither storm nor shipwreck could stop him, and this snake wouldn’t either.

The enemy may try to poison your purpose, but if God says you’re going to Rome, the only one who can stop you is you. Maybe you’ve failed. Maybe you’ve fallen. Maybe you’ve given in to temptation, lost your temper, wasted time, or doubted your worth. But God isn’t shocked by your weakness. He knew every failure before you made it—and He still chose you. His forgiveness is not for once but forever.

 Friend, the enemy may bite, but he can’t stop you from reaching your destiny unless you let him. The venom isn’t in the bite; it’s in the belief that you’re finished. God won’t give you a promise that someone else can ruin. So shake off the shame. Shake off the fear. Shake off small vision and go on, because if Heaven started your journey, hell can’t stop it.

Today, I met up with Wayne, whom I worked with 45 years ago, at the City Council, and we shared some stories! How good it is to find out that our fears and failures are common to all. Even though we are designed for connection, sometimes we are scared to be known. We wear masks, hide our flaws, and post only our best days. But that never makes us feel truly loved—because we suspect if people knew the real us, they’d not be so impressed.

We know from Genesis 3:10: “I was afraid because I was naked, and so I hid.” Fear makes us hide our past, our pain, our real selves. And the real fear is rejection. We’ve all felt it—by a parent, a friend, even believers, and we vow, “Never again.” But walls that keep hurt out also keep love out. We end up lonely and disconnected.

Jesus understands rejection. Betrayed, abandoned, crucified—He endured the ultimate rejection. So, when you ache, He’s not just watching; He’s empathising. But He doesn’t want you to stay there. Because withdrawing from risk guarantees greater pain: loneliness, insecurity, and the slow fading of your joy. You were never meant to live with secrets. They don’t protect you—they imprison you. In fact, we can become sick from the secrets we hide. The only cure is love. Not sentimental niceness—but divine love that sets you free. Scripture says, “Perfect love casts out fear.” That means the deeper God’s love sinks into your soul, the less room fear has to operate. And once you’re secure in His affection, you’ll stop living for approval and start loving with abandon.

Friends, our Father fully knows us and still fully loves us.  So tell Him you’re ready to risk again. Then reach out to someone safe. Say the honest thing. Share the real story. Because being fully known—and still fully loved—is exactly what God created you for.

It was a big night for Esther. She looked good, smelled good and was ready to approach the king. “Now…Esther put on her royal robes and stood in the inner court of the king's palace…When the king saw Queen Esther…she found favour in his sight and held out to Esther the golden sceptre that was in his hand. Then Esther went near and touched the top of the sceptre”.  Est 5:1.   Dressing in royal robes was important the first night and every other time that she came to him.  It wasn’t a “come as you are” type of thing. That robe was about beauty and about honouring and accessing the King. In ancient times, people nearest the King dressed up. When Pharaoh promoted Joseph, he gave him a title and a robe of welcome at the throne. Esther came dressed right, and she won favour and a victory!

Sometimes we take our garments off. Not intentionally, but maybe we are disappointed in God, perhaps when we fail, when we’re grieving. When we’re tired. We don’t dress with purpose nor linger at the Throne. Pretty soon, we stop stepping out. We don’t pray with boldness or expect miracles.  The good news? God doesn’t shame us for taking off our garments. He wants our partnership and simply says, “Dress again.” He removes the filthy robes and restores the mantle. He not only dresses us for His presence, but He also dresses us with His presence.

Friend, you’re not disqualified by your disappointment. Put on your garment and expect some wins in the war. The sceptre of His favour is toward you. Ask boldly because you are dressed for the throne room. He is waiting for your requests and the lost are waiting for His deliverance..

Jesus ate the fish and honey, and while the disciples’ mouths fell open in wonder, Jesus opened their understanding. Jesus was the Messiah of the ages. Their mission was clear. Tell the whole world. However, after three years, the disciples were informed but not equipped. Jesus said, “Behold, I send the Promise of My Father upon you; but tarry in the city of Jerusalem until you are endued with power from on high." Luk 24:49.

They were to wait not until they felt ready, but until they were “endued with power.” That word “endued” means to be clothed. Covered. Wrapped in something not your own. It’s the same word used when Paul says we’ve “put on Christ.”  There’s a difference between being saved and being empowered, between being forgiven and being filled. You can be clothed in righteousness and still walk through life without power. That’s why Jesus didn’t just give His disciples a message—He gave them a mantle.

In Bible times, men wore both inner and outer garments. Our righteousness in Christ is like our inner garment.  But being clothed with His power is our outer garment. It’s the boldness to speak, the authority to heal, the courage to confront darkness. It’s what Jesus wore when He walked into villages and demons trembled. And it’s what He offers us. We don’t need the outer garment to sit in church. But we do need it to touch the world and to bring heaven to earth.

Friends, the Holy Spirit is not a bonus, an option or an upgrade. He is the Spirit of Christ living through us. Don’t leave home “without” Him, because the world won’t be changed by our private beliefs, but by our boldness.

He could see his father’s house now. He rehearsed his apology for the tenth time. The prodigal son was home. He felt so unworthy and began his speech.  But the father doesn’t even let him finish. He runs to him, embraces him, and says, “Bring out the best robe.” Not a lecture. Not a delay. A robe and a celebration. The son had no song or practised prayer.  He just returned. And that was enough.

Seems that God isn’t looking for polished performances—He’s looking for hearts that return to Him. He’s not impressed by our perfection. He’s moved by humility.  “The LORD your God in your midst, The Mighty One, will save; He will rejoice over you with gladness, He will quiet you with His love, He will rejoice over you with singing." Zep 3:17. What wait! He rejoices over us with singing. Not just tolerates us. Not just forgives us. He dances. He celebrates when we come close. Our past doesn’t have to be good, our approach well-timed, or our worship pitch-perfect. Our heart just has to be real. When you draw near, He runs near. When you love Him, even in weakness, He is moved.

Friend, if you’ve been distant, distracted, or discouraged—come home! If you’ve been comparing your journey to someone else’s, lay it down. If you must compare, compare the chill of a pig pen to the warmth of a father’s arms. If you are wondering whether your love matters to God, it does.