The Genesis Face

  This morning, as I was meditating, a passage came to mind: 1 Corinthians 4:17 “For this reason I have sent Timothy to you, who is my dear and faithful son in the Lord. He will remind you of my ways in Christ, as I teach them everywhere in every church.” What stands out to me is that Paul describes what he teaches everywhere as his ways in Christ. He is not speaking of methods or instruction, but of a lived reality, a location of being.  Timothy is sent to remind them, which tells us this way of life is already known, already familiar, already present. That led me to think about Paul’s own encounter with Jesus and how he later interprets it in Galatians. He does not say God revealed His Son to him. He says God revealed His Son in him. That language matters. Paul understood the Damascus road encounter as an inward unveiling.  The gospel he preached everywhere flowed from that internal revelation. The ‘in Christ’ message is the discovery of where life truly resides. When P...

  Today a familiar scripture opened in a new way: His Spirit bears witness with our spirit that we are sons of God. I’ve always seen that scripture like this — and rightfully so — as something intimate inside me. God’s Spirit whispering to my spirit, “You belong. You are Mine.” But today I saw it from a different angle. It wasn’t only “God-to-me.” It was “Spirit-to-Spirit” between people. Our spirits bear witness  to each other . Suddenly I saw another layer of Sonship. Not just the inward knowing that I am born of God, but the shared recognition that we are. My spirit recognizes the Spirit in someone else, and theirs recognizes the same in me. It’s one witness moving through many hearts. Then I understood those words of Jesus differently: “By their fruit you will know them.” “By this all will know that you are Mine — by your love.” It’s not a test. It’s recognition. The fruit reveals the root — the origin. Love reveals the life source. It’s the Spirit in us seeing the Spirit ...

  Every one of us can trace our human story back to a womb. We can follow our ancestry through parents, grandparents, DNA tests, family trees, and old photographs.   These things tell the story of how our bodies arrived, but they can never explain how our being began.  The moment Paul said God “set him apart from his mother’s womb,” he was simply naming the start of his earthly timeline. But when God revealed His Son in him, something deeper awakened: the realization that his true origin was never the womb at all.  His identity didn’t begin with biology, history, or the will of a natural father. It began in God — in the One who imagined him before time. John 1:13 says we are born “not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but born of God.” That single phrase pulls the veil back on everything.  It tells us that our human arrival and our divine origin are not the same thing. Our bodies came through human lineage, but our being comes from ...

I was reading John 5 the other day, and something opened up in me. It says the sick and hurting were lying under the shade of the porches by the pool of Bethesda . When I sat with that, I saw a picture of people living under a shadow, right beside the temple, waiting for something outside of them to happen. Almost leaning on something external to change what they felt powerless to shift. It felt like an image of the old system… people sitting under an identity that kept them powerless. Resting in the shade instead of noticing the Light already within them. And Jesus walks straight into that shadowed place. The true Temple. The fullness. The substance. In the Greek , His words are simple: “Rise… walk.” Both are resurrection words — awaken, be lifted, step into newness. Then He tells the man to take up his mat, not as a symbol to carry, but because he wasn’t staying in that place anymore. He was leaving the spot that had held him for so long. The awakening had already begun, even if hi...

I was reading about how our thoughts work, and something clicked in me so deeply. We don’t usually notice where a thought begins… we just suddenly feel the pull of it, like we’re caught in a slipstream.  A thought creates its own momentum, its own gravity. And the more attention we give it, the heavier it feels. Most of us were taught to fight thoughts — replace a negative one with a positive one. But that becomes exhausting. It’s like trying to beat gravity by jumping harder. It wears you out and convinces you that something is wrong with you. But there’s another law at work — a higher one. Just like an airplane rises through the law of lift, our hearts rise when we remember our origin. Not by effort… but by awareness. The moment you remember where you came from — that your life began in God, that you were always wanted, always held — something lifts inside you. The weight of the old thoughts loosens. You’re not fighting anymore; you’re rising. It’s like breaking the sound barrier...

  I wrote this in my journaling time this morning, and it stayed alive in my heart: Our origin isn’t Adam. Our origin isn’t dust. Our origin isn’t the fall. Our origin is the Logos — the eternal Word — the Christ in whom everything finds its source.