Category: Becoming Spiritually Free

Obedience in uncertain seasons is a bold kind of courage. Like the dragonfly that lives underwater before it ever learns to fly, some of us are becoming in places no one sees. Courage isn’t loud—it’s consistent. It’s the quiet act of trusting God when you don’t yet see the full picture. Keep showing up. Keep saying yes. That simple obedience is where real transformation begins.

Real freedom begins when we stop hiding the parts of ourselves we’re ashamed of. I used to think I was free just because I moved on—but the truth followed me. Until I got honest about the pain, the resentment, and the silent weight I was carrying, I was still in chains. You can’t heal what you won’t admit. And you can’t be free while hiding your truth.

Private obedience isn’t glamorous, but it’s where God does His best work. This is the soil where anointing is cultivated—when nobody sees you, when no one claps, but you keep showing up anyway. Public anointing doesn’t fall out of nowhere; it flows from the hidden yes. From the field. From the quiet place. If you’re wondering where your oil is, look at your obedience when the lights are off.

Sometimes the most powerful thing you can do is show up empty. Not with answers. Not with strength. Just with willingness. God is not looking for your perfection—He’s looking for your surrender. He fills what we cannot. He strengthens when we cannot. When you’re tired of trying to be strong, let Him be your strength. Being empty doesn’t make you weak. It makes you ready.

David was anointed long before he was crowned king. His story reminds us that delay doesn’t mean denial—it’s part of divine development. Between the promise and the fulfillment were battles, lessons, and hidden seasons that shaped him. If you feel stuck between what God said and what you see, stay faithful. God isn’t late; He’s getting you ready for what He’s already prepared. The oil still speaks—even when it feels like the world doesn’t notice.

Returning to church community isn’t about picking up old routines—it’s about reconnecting with a family built on grace, not perfection. Whether you’ve been gone for weeks, months, or years, your seat is still here. In showing up again, you step back into healing, strength, and becoming. Church isn’t about having it all together—it’s about coming together as we are. Even after seasons of silence or struggle, community still matters. And you are still part of it.

I didn’t get free when I got saved—I got free when I started unlearning. Some of the hardest chains to break were the ones handed to me in the name of tradition. But not everything passed down was truth. Some of it was fear. Some of it was silence. And some of it was shame. Freedom began when I stopped agreeing with the lies and started rebuilding my faith on Jesus—not just on what I was told.

Real freedom doesn’t always make a scene. It’s often quiet, tucked inside the small choices we make daily—choosing peace over panic, surrender over control. It’s not about proving deliverance to others, but about walking it out with God. This post reminds us that freedom isn’t defined by how loud our testimony is—it’s in the quiet yes we give Him, again and again. Because victory isn’t just shouted—it’s lived.

Freedom doesn’t end when the chains fall—it begins there. True freedom is a journey, not just a moment. After the breakthrough, you’re called to walk in what God has done, building new habits, boundaries, and identity. It’s not always easy, especially when your past feels more familiar than your future. But God didn’t just free you to breathe easier—He freed you to live bolder. This is about more than escape—it’s about embracing who you’re becoming, one step at a time.