“There will be a fall from grace. You will lose everything, but don’t be afraid. When God needs to come through. He will.”

She gripped my hands and prophesied over me. This stuff is new to me and quite scary. I was almost taken a back.

Not very often, but from time to time I would begin to remember that moment. Like oily black ink on my skin, I couldn’t get it off of me. Infecting moments of joy, dreams, and moments of sorrow.

I found I couldn’t stop thinking of that prophecy. Waiting for it. Fearing it.

Why would someone prophesy something so harmful?

“He never prophesies good over me, so I hate what he says.”

A king said that once in the bible. Then did one of those things where he didn’t listen and died a tragic death. I don’t want to be that guy.

My eyes burn. They are red and saturated with salty tears.

I’ve shed more in the last two weeks then I care to count.

Everyday is a new assault on my emotional strength.

From ways I need to change, to insults, to ways I’ve failed.

From seeing Genocide up close with a rotting grin. To losing more of who I shouldn’t be. To being told more of who I am that I shouldn’t be.

“Tomorrow’s freedom is todays surrender.”

Dawn to Dusk – All Sons and Daughters

In the last couple weeks I’ve had so many things happen to me, things that left me deeply wounded. And as they piled up and I let no one in, I began to feel as if a hammer was floating above me, ready to strike.

Always at watch, I feared a nefarious unseen hand, waiting to rob me and plunder this soul.

It did. It struck and struck. I cried and wept.

Sometimes I felt ashamed, indignant, repentant, violated, impuned, robbed, hurt, wounded.

Often I felt guilty at my own sin, ignorance, and fear.

At least the prophesy came true.

God: 1

Jake: 0

Some days I have poor self-worth, believing other people to not want me around, I sabotage my own life and cause various forms of destruction by hiding or masking insecurities through various means.

I struggle with feeling unwanted. I struggle with feeling intimidated.

I struggle.

That’s all there is too it. Every time I feel like I’ve overcame a sin or won a spiritual battle, I find myself puffing up, only to pop with even greater force than I once believed.

So today, I went to my thinking place. A place of weeping and solitude.

The shower. Tub time as some people call it.

I processed and thought and then I heard a faint whisper in my soul,

“Get on your knees”

I always argue but eventually think, “I’m not charismatic, but just this once God.”

And we talked. I wrestled and struggled. I asked Him questions and deep ones at that. Until the deepest question came up.

One so hard to speak of I cannot say it out loud.

And with an instant answer I heard,


“Are you kidding me God, this is the question of my soul, the dark de-“

“Jacob, you’re not listening. Hope FULLY.”

I wept.

The arrow struck where it intended.

I don’t hope anymore.

I say I do. But honestly what I do is weigh my reasoning against probability of what I want and the higher it is, the more I find it acceptable to let my excitement dictate my joy.

I miss the days my joy dictated my excitement.

Where the beauty of a flower and the shimmering drops of rain brought me to simple realization that this world is crazy beautiful. Complex. Utterly insane. And ours. To lavish and love and share with the creator.

That prophesy shook me up so bad because the probability of hope was eliminated through my calculated reasoning.

If the bad part came true, why would the good part come through? I realize I have been living an existence of small faith, little trust, and pithy hope.

The world has left me jaded against the thought that God does really bless His children.

Called Me Higher – All Sons and Daughters

It’s far easier for me to believe in poverty then blessing. To be lead into lack instead of worth.

Today though, I am looking with bright eyes. Bright because they always look bigger after a good cry. But also bright because Jesus brings blessing.

I am so sick of letting circumstances hit me in the joy.

I have been called to go higher and deeper into a journey with Jesus. That’s scary. Sometimes it means walking on storms and we all know I hate water.

Sometimes it means talking to someone who has hurt you. Sometimes it means humbly accepting critique. Sometimes it means apologizing. Sometimes it means believing God has good things for you. That doing the right thing is worth it.

I know that’s one of the hardest struggles I have. So I believe with all the hammers, strikes, and lashes, that this is the beginning of hope.

It is not the dark night of the soul. It is the gateway into knowing Christ more. The entryway into fully understanding and expecting hope.

When I hope, I have a reason to keep going. I think back to how the painful trials and blows and wounds are molding me into a better person. Making me more presentable to Jesus. One who can hope fully in the promises of Jesus.  A better man. A better person.

And God knows I want to be that.