How to Get Out Of The Cell of the Wide Open Door?


Col 1: 13  He has delivered us from the dominion of darkness and transferred (physically relocated) us into the kingdom of the Son of His love,

Colossians 1:13 uses the aorist tense for the verbs, “delivered” and “transferred.”

The Greek aorist is called the photographic or punctiliar tense.

It defines a past event, not in the context of what it means, but in its occurrence.

The event is labeled simply as a photograph or a punctuation mark on history’s time line.

Hence the terms, photographic or punctiliar.

So for those in Christ, we have once and for all being rescued from darkness’s jurisdiction and have been physically relocated, transported and re assigned to God’s kingdom.

So why do we still struggle so much with the dominion of darkness?

In my life, the reasons are varied.

All of them have to do with the devil’s tactics.

For one, I believe that my ancestors were into Santeria or witchcraft.

Generational sins or demons are a complex issue.

I know  little about it.

Suffice it to say, that stuff coming down my family line, have clobbered me.

I’ve had to spend time in prayer to break them all.

Secondly, is the issue of the demonic strongman.

I’m convinced that every person and every Christian has an assigned strong man demon which afflicts them.

Though we have been relocated to the kingdom of God, the schemes of the strong man do not automatically break.

For observed freedom to come, one must identify his or her particular strong man and figure out his lies.

This is can be an extended but crucial process.

But what I submit to you today is the “prison of the wide opened door.”

Relocation from the devil’s jurisdiction to God’s kingdom is the conclusion of your prison sentence and subsequent release back into society.

But for many, I included, we continue to sit in the cell, with the door in front of us, wide opened

How can this be?

The trickiest obstacle to freedom is the prison created by our imaginations, and the knowledge which exalts itself over God’s, of who we were before Christ, and who we are now in Him.

It has taken me months of prayer to work through the entangled thoughts that have kept me in the prison of the wide opened door.

I don’t have an answer for your journey.

But, I will tell you why solving your dilemma is so vital and yet so darn difficult.

It’s the toughest thing you will ever do.

Rom 3:27  Where then is the boasting? It is excluded. Through what law? Of works? No, but through the law of faith.

Faith is a law.

A law is defined that under specific circumstances, specific results always take place.

Faith works with positive and negative circumstances. It’s a law!

If you believe that you are in prison, and don’t realize that the door is opened, and that you are free, you will remain in it.

What is worse is this!

The devil has been defeated.  But as the father of lies, he feeds on lies, just like a tick feeds on blood.

The biggest lie, which he has propagated on humanity, is to make it believe that he does not exist.

If you faith is that you are still in prison when you are not, you will remain in it, because of the law of faith. You have believed the lie.

And the old devil will indulge the errors of your way, by endlessly attacking you just like if you were still in bondage.

If you are not experiencing at the beginnings of resurrection life, I counsel you to dedicate serious time to finding out why you still sit in your cell of the wide open door.

door

Advertisements

A Tale Of Fidel and the Ice Cream.


I once heard a story about El Comandante Fidel Castro. This is how he indoctrinated young Cuban children.

His soldiers, named “milicianos’,  would visit Cuban elementary schools.

They would gather the children and ask them, “who of you believe in God?” Every little hand jettisoned to the air. “Who here loves ice cream?” . Even quicker than before, little arms shot up, giggles and wide eyes staring into soldiers’ faces.

“Well, close your eyes, bow your heads, and pray to God to bring you ice cream now!” Dutifully, little heads bowed down, as the children prayed in earnest.

“Now, open your eyes”, retorted a soldier. Of course, there was no ice cream.

“Now, pray to Fidel Castro, and ask him to bring you ice cream!” Little heads and hearts stooped once again. “Now open your eyes!” Every soldier held a sumptuous ice cream cone.

Postscript:

There are a few things which I remember from my homeland. We fled penniless when I was six. Castro nationalized both of my father’s businesses.

As we exited the Jose Marti Airport to come to Miami, Castro’s men called us worms.

I remember the bomb that went off at the Havana harbor when I was watched the Three Stooges at a movie theater.  We ran outside to see broken glass and the wailing of ambulance sirens.

I remember when Castro’s soldiers barged into our upper class home, and ransacked our drawers and closets.

I remember hearing stories of Castro having dump trucks collide into each other in the middle of the night, in my neighborhood, to frighten the wealthy.

I remember the great Cuban singer, Benny More, mercilessly beaten to death in a Cuban prison.

I remember my grandmother’s school, El Instituto Edison, one the finest in the nation, stolen from her.

I remember people making coffee from ground black beans.

I remember women as they fled Cuba being stripped search in their private parts for hidden jewelry.

I remember people still driving cars from the 1950’s.

I remember a nation that is silent, for it lives in terror of a government that will imprison, torture or kill its people, if it speaks out against it.

These socialists preach wealth distribution to all expect themselves. Every single one of them are millionaires.

Every single one of them successfully disarmed their nations through gun control while remaining armed to the hilt and quickly subjugated the country, through gun control.

For those of you in America who love Castro, or Che Guevera, who was a hyper racist, and cherish the utopic socialist dream, I pray that you won’t eat the wrong ice cream.

Two People Who Inspire Me This Monday


These are two people whom inspire me.

Pastor Youcef Nadarkhani is an Iranese Christian Pastor who is in prison. He was locked  because he refused to convert to Islam. A few days back Iranese officials offered Pastor Yousef liberty if he recanted on his Christian faith. The pastor once again said no.

Yousef could be executed at any time. It’s been the hand of God through the prayers of many, and signed petitions to politicians that have delayed his executions.

Please do not forget Pastor Yousef in prayers and by making your voice heard politically.

http://bit.ly/xvYBXA

Maria Corina Machado is a Venezuelan politician. In this video she confronts Venezuela’s communist president Hugo Chavez. I am sorry that the video is in Spanish. She calls Hugo Chavez a thief to his face, and that in front of his supporters. The courage of this lady to stand against evil inspires me. Even if you cannot understand Spanish take out four minutes to witness the marvelous exchange. She reminds me of Paul confronting King Agrippa.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aAMfvXf665k

I believe that God is calling you and me to this kind of courage.

Blessings

Jose

My Deepest, Darkest and Cruelest Prison


Today I discovered the greatest, deepest, the most destructive, and maybe the last of my prisons. Really, I did not discover it. Jesus had been taking me there.

This was the prison of my own rights.  It was a  deep and subconscious penitentiary, a moated and lofty castle of my rights, my life, my control,  my religion, my opinions, my beliefs, my expectations, my  dreams, my plans, my finances and schedules. This was the one fortress which I would not allow God in. I had built it when I had been hurt as a child, when fear and unbelief came in. It was the lofty refuge for me protecting myself. In the high citadel of my rights no one and nothing could hurt me. Not even God, Himself.

I had a glimpse of this mental fortress.  It was a little drought stricken piece of land, incredibly dry and cracked. Rain had not fallen for many many years. There was one little sickly plant that had broken through its fissured terrain. It had kept me in bondage. I prayed today, and felt a rock hard place in my soul close to my heart ,where this land dwells for all people.  It’s called hardness and embitterment of heart. Everybody has it.

As I intercessed in earnest, Jesus opened the lock to this prison and let me out. I know now that I can be  healed and delivered.

Every person has this prison. Every human lives in the parched and barren land of his rights. He will do anything not to give it up. This is why most will not allow God in. It’s all about protecting this little parched piece of land. It’s the little place of safety. We think that we know better than God, as we pace in total darkness, in this our tiny castled dungeon, feeling very smart, smug and wise.

Little did I know, that protecting this little place, was my deepest, darkest and cruelest prison.

Many will die in this prison, shielding this tiny dust bowl with the last gasp of breath.

I wish that I would have surrendered earlier to the One who can be fully trusted, and who longed to get me out, and not served a 57 year sentence. I praise God that I am finally out, though.  What about you?

A Tale Of Fidel and the Ice Cream.


I once heard a story about El Comandante Fidel Castro. This is how he indoctrinated young Cuban children.

His soldiers, named “milicianos’,  would visit Cuban elementary schools. They would gather the children and ask them, “who of you believe in God?” Every little hand jettisoned to the air. “Who here loves ice cream?” . Even quicker than before, little arms shot up, giggles and wide eyes staring into soldiers’ faces.

“Well, close your eyes, bow your heads, and pray to God to bring you ice cream now!” Dutifully, little heads bowed down, as the children prayed in earnest.

“Now, open your eyes”, retorted a soldier. Of course, there was no ice cream.

“Now, pray to Fidel Castro, and ask him to bring you ice cream!” Little heads and hearts stooped once again. “Now open your eyes!” Every soldier held a sumptuous ice cream cone.