I come from a family and church that believes so much in ancestral curses and village people syndrome, I have seen certain trends playout through generations, I am seeing certain traits in me, I am trying to ho0ld ojn to faith and not face them or concentrate on them like i used to back themn, but I am scared i don't have all the time to grow up before the trend catches up with me, what kind of prayer do I pray now?
wintan
Super Admin@wintan
Faith Community owner and platform administrator.
Posts by wintan
I am a very fashinable lady, I love too look good(the a little bit short gowns ,blings, glows and the normal gen-z vibe look) but I love jesus, I pray when I should pray and follow meetings and everything brethren does, but somewhere I get the feeling like I am not a spoiritual person from my brethren. I s looking good bad?
How can a man add to faith, virtue, to virtue, knowledge, to knowledge temperance... then it means these entities are specific and must be recognized, how do you add them? How do you recognize them? How do you know you are lacking in one?
"And beside this, giving all diligence, add to your faith virtue; and to virtue knowledge;
And to knowledge temperance; and to temperance patience; and to patience godliness;
And to godliness brotherly kindness; and to brotherly kindness charity."
— 2 Peter 1:5-7 (King James Version)
"And beside this, giving all diligence, add to your faith virtue; and to virtue knowledge;
And to knowledge temperance; and to temperance patience; and to patience godliness;
And to godliness brotherly kindness; and to brotherly kindness charity."
— 2 Peter 1:5-7 (King James Version)
There are days we just want to bottle up and keep mute and stay off radar, such days are mostly days when a whole lot of life and joy is waiting in the spirt, you can't use your feelings or emotions to judge or predict the emotion in the spirit because there is always life in the spirit "(For we walk by faith, not by sight:)" — 2 Corinthians 5:7 (King James Version)
Course of this world
@all Before man was born into the earth, there already stood a curriculum fashioned against his destiny. The flesh had its appetite, the eyes had their fascination, and the pride of life had its throne. What Eve first beheld in the garden was not a mere tree, but the unveiling of an ancient curriculum of deception, for 1 John 2:16 speaks of the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life, and these are not of the Father but are of the world. When the serpent persuaded her to see the tree as good for food, pleasant to the eyes, and desirable to make one wise, Genesis 3:6 reveals the first lesson in the classroom of rebellion. That moment was not only a temptation, it was an enrollment. Man was being tutored into a world-system that would train him for estrangement from God.
This is why Ephesians 2:1 to 3 is so piercing. The apostle unveils that the children of disobedience are not accidental rebels but faithful scholars of the course of this world, walking according to the prince of the power of the air, the spirit that now works in the sons of disobedience. The world has a course, and that course has a spirit. It shapes appetites, forms desires, and teaches men how to live without God while calling it wisdom. It raises men who are educated in pride, fluent in self, and skilled in unbelief, until they grow into a stature that resists the Lord who made them. Thus the earth becomes a place of competing tutorship, where hell seeks to disciple man into perdition while heaven seeks to recover him into glory.
Yet redemption is not merely pardon, it is deliverance from a false education. Titus 2:11 to 12 says the grace of God that brings salvation has appeared to all men, teaching us to deny ungodliness and worldly lusts, and to live soberly, righteously, and godly in this present age. Grace is therefore not only a gift, it is a teacher. Salvation does not just rescue man from judgment, it rescues him from the curriculum of the fallen age. Christ does not merely forgive the student of the world, He enrolls him into a higher school, a kingdom learning, where the soul is rebuilt by truth, the will is retrained by the Spirit, and the life of God is formed in the inward man.
This is the burden of the apostolic ministry. Colossians 2:2 to 3 speaks of the mystery of God and of the Father and of Christ, in whom are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge. Therefore the goal of the Gospel is not information alone, but formation. The divine agenda is to make man complete in Christ, as Colossians 2:10 declares, and to root him so deeply in the Lord that he is no longer tossed by the doctrines of the age but established in the fullness of Him who fills all in all. Paul labored as a spiritual tutor, not merely to convert men, but to calibrate them unto maturity, that their faith might be toward the Lord Jesus and their love toward all the saints, as seen in Ephesians 1:15 and echoed in the apostolic burdens throughout the epistles.
And this is where the struggle over man becomes so profound. Man is a treasure of immense value, for heaven contends for him and hell also covets him. The soul of man is no small estate. He was created for communion, fashioned for glory, and intended to bear the likeness of God. That is why the conflict is so fierce. What is at stake is not merely behavior but destiny, not merely actions but allegiance. The one who owns the curriculum ultimately owns the student. Hence the battle is for what man hears, what man sees, what man loves, and what man becomes.
Yet there is a higher school, the school of the life to come. And even though a man is admitted into it by new birth, he does not enter empty. He comes with the residue of former learning, old patterns, old reflexes, old judgments, and old appetites. This is why Ephesians 4:22 to 24 commands us to put off the old man, which grows corrupt according to deceitful lusts, and to be renewed in the spirit of our minds, and to put on the new man, created according to God in righteousness and true holiness. New birth is real, but the old syllabus still cries from within unless it is mortified by the Spirit. The child of God enters the kingdom as a beginner, like a child in kindergarten, yet he must not remain bound to the grammar of the old age. He must learn Christ, be taught by Christ, and be transformed into the image of Christ.
So the calling is clear. We must remain under the discipline of the world to come until the world within us is fully dethroned. Hebrews 12:1 to 2 calls us to lay aside every weight and the sin which so easily ensnares us, looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith. For true freedom is not found in escaping all schooling, but in being thoroughly yoked to the right school, the school of the kingdom, where the Son teaches sons, where grace instructs the redeemed, and where eternal life is not only professed, but formed.
In conclusion, man is not merely saved to escape hell. He is saved to be retrained for glory. He must put off the old man because he cannot properly learn the life of the age to come while still carrying the vocabulary of the old age. The new birth gives him admission, but sanctification gives him understanding. And as he submits to the hand of Christ, the former curriculum loses its authority, the old lens is broken, and the man begins to walk as a true son, fitted for the Father, prepared for eternity, and certified by grace for the world to come.
This is why Ephesians 2:1 to 3 is so piercing. The apostle unveils that the children of disobedience are not accidental rebels but faithful scholars of the course of this world, walking according to the prince of the power of the air, the spirit that now works in the sons of disobedience. The world has a course, and that course has a spirit. It shapes appetites, forms desires, and teaches men how to live without God while calling it wisdom. It raises men who are educated in pride, fluent in self, and skilled in unbelief, until they grow into a stature that resists the Lord who made them. Thus the earth becomes a place of competing tutorship, where hell seeks to disciple man into perdition while heaven seeks to recover him into glory.
Yet redemption is not merely pardon, it is deliverance from a false education. Titus 2:11 to 12 says the grace of God that brings salvation has appeared to all men, teaching us to deny ungodliness and worldly lusts, and to live soberly, righteously, and godly in this present age. Grace is therefore not only a gift, it is a teacher. Salvation does not just rescue man from judgment, it rescues him from the curriculum of the fallen age. Christ does not merely forgive the student of the world, He enrolls him into a higher school, a kingdom learning, where the soul is rebuilt by truth, the will is retrained by the Spirit, and the life of God is formed in the inward man.
This is the burden of the apostolic ministry. Colossians 2:2 to 3 speaks of the mystery of God and of the Father and of Christ, in whom are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge. Therefore the goal of the Gospel is not information alone, but formation. The divine agenda is to make man complete in Christ, as Colossians 2:10 declares, and to root him so deeply in the Lord that he is no longer tossed by the doctrines of the age but established in the fullness of Him who fills all in all. Paul labored as a spiritual tutor, not merely to convert men, but to calibrate them unto maturity, that their faith might be toward the Lord Jesus and their love toward all the saints, as seen in Ephesians 1:15 and echoed in the apostolic burdens throughout the epistles.
And this is where the struggle over man becomes so profound. Man is a treasure of immense value, for heaven contends for him and hell also covets him. The soul of man is no small estate. He was created for communion, fashioned for glory, and intended to bear the likeness of God. That is why the conflict is so fierce. What is at stake is not merely behavior but destiny, not merely actions but allegiance. The one who owns the curriculum ultimately owns the student. Hence the battle is for what man hears, what man sees, what man loves, and what man becomes.
Yet there is a higher school, the school of the life to come. And even though a man is admitted into it by new birth, he does not enter empty. He comes with the residue of former learning, old patterns, old reflexes, old judgments, and old appetites. This is why Ephesians 4:22 to 24 commands us to put off the old man, which grows corrupt according to deceitful lusts, and to be renewed in the spirit of our minds, and to put on the new man, created according to God in righteousness and true holiness. New birth is real, but the old syllabus still cries from within unless it is mortified by the Spirit. The child of God enters the kingdom as a beginner, like a child in kindergarten, yet he must not remain bound to the grammar of the old age. He must learn Christ, be taught by Christ, and be transformed into the image of Christ.
So the calling is clear. We must remain under the discipline of the world to come until the world within us is fully dethroned. Hebrews 12:1 to 2 calls us to lay aside every weight and the sin which so easily ensnares us, looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith. For true freedom is not found in escaping all schooling, but in being thoroughly yoked to the right school, the school of the kingdom, where the Son teaches sons, where grace instructs the redeemed, and where eternal life is not only professed, but formed.
In conclusion, man is not merely saved to escape hell. He is saved to be retrained for glory. He must put off the old man because he cannot properly learn the life of the age to come while still carrying the vocabulary of the old age. The new birth gives him admission, but sanctification gives him understanding. And as he submits to the hand of Christ, the former curriculum loses its authority, the old lens is broken, and the man begins to walk as a true son, fitted for the Father, prepared for eternity, and certified by grace for the world to come.
I stood at the meeting point
between appetite and eternity,
confused by pleasures
that smiled like lovers
yet fed like graves.
Sin never entered screaming.
It came softly.
With beautiful eyes.
With warm hands.
With promises that tasted like freedom
but left torment in the marrow.
And afterward came the residue.
The strange emptiness.
The silent stain upon the soul.
The feeling of carrying darkness
even while speaking of light.
I became divided within myself.
One part of me longed for God
like John leaning upon the breast of eternal Love,
and another part still wandered
through the fading corridors of flesh
searching for life among dead things.
I touched what wounded me.
I drank what hollowed me.
I called chains pleasure
because they glittered in the night.
But deep within me
something refused to die.
A cry remained.
A small trembling flame
beneath the ruins of desire.
Then I saw Him.
Jesus.
Not distant.
Not condemning.
But standing before me
with wounded hands stretched open
as though mercy itself had taken form.
And in His eyes
there was no confusion.
Only knowing.
Only love ancient enough
to survive all my running.
“Come.”
That word entered me
like light entering a locked room.
And suddenly the pleasures I protected
began to lose their beauty.
The things that once mastered me
looked small before His presence.
I felt my old garment falling.
The hidden man of corruption,
the secret stains,
the weight of inward decay.
And slowly
He clothed me in another life.
A life not born from desire
but from light.
Now I walk toward Him
with trembling and tears,
leaving behind the sweet poison of Egypt
for the unbearable beauty
of becoming holy.
between appetite and eternity,
confused by pleasures
that smiled like lovers
yet fed like graves.
Sin never entered screaming.
It came softly.
With beautiful eyes.
With warm hands.
With promises that tasted like freedom
but left torment in the marrow.
And afterward came the residue.
The strange emptiness.
The silent stain upon the soul.
The feeling of carrying darkness
even while speaking of light.
I became divided within myself.
One part of me longed for God
like John leaning upon the breast of eternal Love,
and another part still wandered
through the fading corridors of flesh
searching for life among dead things.
I touched what wounded me.
I drank what hollowed me.
I called chains pleasure
because they glittered in the night.
But deep within me
something refused to die.
A cry remained.
A small trembling flame
beneath the ruins of desire.
Then I saw Him.
Jesus.
Not distant.
Not condemning.
But standing before me
with wounded hands stretched open
as though mercy itself had taken form.
And in His eyes
there was no confusion.
Only knowing.
Only love ancient enough
to survive all my running.
“Come.”
That word entered me
like light entering a locked room.
And suddenly the pleasures I protected
began to lose their beauty.
The things that once mastered me
looked small before His presence.
I felt my old garment falling.
The hidden man of corruption,
the secret stains,
the weight of inward decay.
And slowly
He clothed me in another life.
A life not born from desire
but from light.
Now I walk toward Him
with trembling and tears,
leaving behind the sweet poison of Egypt
for the unbearable beauty
of becoming holy.