Tag: jesus

Psalm 18:16–17 (KJV) – “He sent from above, he took me, he drew me out of many waters. He delivered me from my strong enemy… for they were too strong for me.”

This is the testimony, and it’s personal, you didn’t drown, you were drawn. From the first moment the waves rose, and the water closed in, it looked like an ending. But what you didn’t know then is that it was the beginning of divine movement. Day by day, the Father was not just watching, He was working. He didn’t simply allow the storm; He used it. Every undercurrent (Day 1), every riptide (Day 2), every violent wave (Day 3), and every identity crisis (Day 4) was part of a sovereign setup. The pain had a purpose. The struggle had a strategy. And what you thought was taking you under was actually carrying you into something deeper, greater, and glorious. This is not survival. This is resurrection.

The God who commands the seas does not allow the flood to touch His children without placing boundaries around it. What overwhelmed you could not overtake you because Grace was already surrounding you. The undercurrent that pushed you (Day 1) became the proof that you were not abandoned, you being carried. When you could not swim, He held you. When you lost direction, He became your compass. And where you went under, you did not come up. You rose in a new place. You emerged into destiny, not by your own strength, but by the force of His Mercy. His pull was greater than the pressure!

The riptide that tried to pull you from everything familiar (Day 2) was actually rerouting you into something eternal. You didn’t come up in the same spot. You came up in victory. In clarity. In power. The same waters that threatened your life washed off everything that wasn’t supposed to stay. You weren’t meant to drown in that place, you were meant to be purified in it. And when you came up, it wasn’t quiet. It wasn’t small. It was thunderous in the Spirit!

Because that rise was a resurrection, and resurrection always leaves a mark. He drew you out, not just of trouble, but out of old mindsets, emotional traps, and spiritual fatigue. He delivered you from your strong enemy, and that includes you, the version of you that settled, that hid, that questioned His calling. Day 3 reminded you that the water lifted you. It didn’t leave you buried. It became the very platform God used to announce that you had survived what should’ve silenced you.

The flood failed. And now you can walk with a new reverence for the waters, not because they were stronger than you, but because they revealed the strength of the One who sustained you. The waves became your witness. The storm became your sanctuary. And the water that once overwhelmed your soul has become the river of fresh oil, pouring out as worship, testimony, and legacy. Where you once panicked, you now praise.

And then came the naming (Day 4). He didn’t just lift you, He renamed you. The water didn’t change your name, God did. He reached into the flood with identity in His Hand. You no longer answer to the names fear gave you. You wear the name that only Heaven recognizes. Like a stone with a name no man knows, it is mine alone. This is not pride. This is placement. This is not arrogance. This is anointing. You now can walk with the authority of one who has come through fire and flood and still has a song. You are living proof that Grace rewrites names, reclaims stories, and restores what was never supposed to be lost in the first place.

So, now declare, this is the rise. This is the shift. This is the supernatural moment where testimony overtakes trauma, where mantle meets movement, and where Glory outweighs grief. You were drawn out. You were delivered. You were defined by the One who holds the waters in His Hand. He pulled you out so He could push you forward. You were not lifted out for comfort but lifted out for calling. Your life is a sign. Your voice is a sound. Your walk is a witness. You have been drawn out to become poured out. And you will not waste what He did in the deep. You will live poured, on purpose, for His Glory alone.

You have been Pulled from the Deep, and Sent into Destiny Psalm 40:2–3 (KJV), “He brought me up also out of an horrible pit, out of the miry clay, and set my feet upon a rock… And he hath put a new song in my mouth, even praise unto our God…” You didn’t just come out, you were called out, with a new sound and a new stride.

Let’s Pray:
Father, I lift my voice in reverence and gratitude, not because I survived on my own, but because You drew me out. The waters were deep, the pain was real, and the journey felt impossible, but You never left me. You were with me in the undercurrent, with me in the riptide, with me when I thought I lost myself, and with me when I rose again. Thank You for the lifting. Thank You for the drawing. Thank You for not letting me drown in what I thought would be the end. I now see that You were not punishing me, You were positioning me. You were not burying me, You were birthing something through me. You saw the end from the beginning, and You pulled me through waters that were too strong for me so that I would know just how strong You are. Thank You for removing the old names, for stripping off the garments of shame, and for dressing me in destiny. I walk now with the identity You spoke over me from eternity. I am not the flood; I am the fruit of what came from it. Lord, let this moment of lifting not just be personal, let it be prophetic. Let it echo into every corner of my life. Let it bless my family, my calling, my ministry, and my future. Let the oil that came from my crushing be poured out without hesitation. I will not rise and remain silent. I will not return to the shallow. I will not deny the deep places that formed me. I will give You glory for every hidden battle, every quiet rescue, and every public victory. Use my life to draw others. Use my voice to sound the alarm. Use my worship to shift the atmosphere. Father, thank You that I am still rising. Even now, You’re lifting me higher, into wisdom, into boldness, into purpose. Keep my heart postured in surrender. Keep my steps aligned with Heaven. Let my new name match my next level. Let Your glory rest on me like the waters that once overwhelmed me. And may everything I do from this moment forward point back to the God who drew me out, carried me through, and crowned me with grace. I am Yours. I am called. I am whole. I am rising for Your glory. In the Name of Jesus Christ, I pray, Amen!

Blessings…
Love. Dr. Jean…
Have A Blessed Weekend…

Isaiah 62:2 (KJV) – “And thou shalt be called by a new name, which the mouth of the Lord shall name.”

There is a sacred truth you must carry as you emerge from the waters of trial and transition, your identity was not left at the bottom of what you survived, it was revealed in the rising. The waters were loud, but they never had permission to rename you. God never gives the storm the authority to write your story. You may have gone under in sorrow, in confusion, or even in silence, but you are not rising with the same name. The trial came to shake your foundation, but it could not shake God’s word concerning you. Your new name was not born from pain, it was born from purpose. What He called you before the water, He confirms over you now that you’re walking on the other side.

You are not rising as the wounded version of who you were. You are rising as the witness of who God is. Just like Jesus came up out of the Jordan and the heavens opened with a declaration, “This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased,” the Lord is now speaking a similar word over you. The water has washed away false narratives, imposter identities, and every name the enemy tried to tattoo on your soul. You’re not forgotten. You’re not forsaken. You’re not unworthy. You are called. You are commissioned. You are chosen. You are the living evidence that God renames what man tried to define in error.

Every storm has a sound, and every survivor has a name. And the one who rises with both carries a mantle of clarity. Your new name is not for vanity, it’s for victory. It holds the sound of your healing and the rhythm of your calling. It moves differently. It speaks boldly. It walks confidently. Because once you’ve been lifted by the hand of God, you lose the appetite for shallow definitions. You are not who they said you were when you were under. You are not even who you thought you were. You are who God has called you, even if you’re just now learning how to answer to that name.

The water tried to rename you with trauma, labels, rejection, and fear. But God rewrote your name in the fire of refinement. You are rising with a new name written not in ink but in identity. No longer “Not Enough,” but Established. No longer “Too Broken,” but Anointed. No longer “Unseen,” but Marked and Mantled. Isaiah 62 doesn’t just speak to your name; it speaks to your visibility. You will be seen and called what God has always intended. You will walk in authority that matches your assignment. The old identity no longer fits the new elevation. You must walk in the truth of your divine identity to fully occupy the place of your breakthrough.

This name you carry now is holy. It’s the fruit of surrender, the result of pruning, and the evidence of grace. It cannot be bought, borrowed, or blended with your past. It’s a name spoken by the One who created you, redeemed you, and now releases you. God is sending you forth with a new sound in your voice and a new title in the spirit. He’s calling you by your purpose, not your pain. The same way He called Gideon a mighty warrior while he was still hiding, God calls you by your future, not your failure. He sees who you are becoming, not just where you’ve been.

You are now walking in what I call the renaming anointing, when the old labels fall off and divine titles rest upon you. It is your assignment to steward this new identity with humility, integrity, and faith. Do not return to what once called you by brokenness. You are being called by wholeness now. This is not the time to shrink back. It’s the season to show up in the full weight of who God says you are. Walk like it. Pray like it. Love like it. Lead like it. And when people say, “Is that really you?” respond with confidence: “It’s still me, but with a new name.”

You have A Name that Only God Could Have Given You.  Revelation 2:17 (KJV) – “…To him that overcometh… I will give him a white stone, and in the stone a new name written, which no man knoweth saving he that receiveth it.” Your identity is not on trial. Heaven has already ruled in your favor.

Let’s Pray:

Father, I give You praise for calling me by name. When the waters tried to rename me, when the lies tried to reshape me, and when the enemy tried to mark me by trauma, You held the pen. You refused to let my identity be written by pain. Thank You for knowing me even when I didn’t recognize myself. Thank You for speaking purpose over me when all I heard was failure. You whispered destiny over me when the flood shouted destruction. You reached into my drowning and lifted me, not just to breathe, but to become. Father, I now stand in the revelation of who I truly am, not who life taught me to be, not who fear molded me into, not who people labeled me as. I am who You say I am. I am called by Your Spirit and sealed by Your love. I wear no garment but the one You have wrapped around me. Strip away every remnant of the old names, every residue of rejection, and every root of shame. Let Your truth be my robe. Let my soul wear the weight of Your word. Let my mouth speak only what You have spoken over me. Thank You, Lord, that my identity is secure in You. I declare that I no longer answer to fear, failure, or falsehood. I respond to favor, fullness, and freedom. I wear my new name boldly, not with arrogance but with holy assurance. I am rising not with ego but with evidence that grace rewrites stories. Let this name You’ve given me awaken the earth and echo in the spirit. Let it speak healing to the broken, courage to the weary, and identity to the lost. Father, I accept the weight of the name You’ve given. I yield to the assignment it carries. If You called me healed, I will no longer live wounded. If You called me whole, I will no longer live fractured. If You called me light, I will not dim my flame. I surrender to the sound of my name in heaven. Let my life reflect it. Let my posture match it. Let my walk agree with it. Let me rise into it without hesitation. And now, Lord, I pray for divine alignment. Place me in rooms where my new name is required. Connect me with people who see what You see. Shield me from those who speak to the old version of me. Let every step I take from this moment forward reflect my identity as redeemed, restored, and redefined. I am Yours. You named me. You lifted me. You anointed me. And I will walk forward in that truth forever. In the Mighty Name of Jesus Christ, I pray, Amen! 

Blessings…

Love Dr. Jean…

Psalm 124:4–5, 8 (KJV) – “Then the waters had overwhelmed us, the stream had gone over our soul: Then the proud waters had gone over our soul. Our help is in the name of the Lord, who made heaven and earth.”

Today, I celebrate my 58th birthday, and I can say with everything in me, I’m grateful! Grateful that I didn’t drown! Grateful that what was meant to pull me under did not prevail! Grateful that God lifted me up with His mighty hand! There were moments I didn’t think I would survive, the pain was deep, the pressure was intense, the water rose high. But thanks be unto God, for His Mercy rose higher! His Grace covered me like a flood, and the love of God rescued me when I could not rescue myself! I don’t just celebrate years today, I celebrate survival! I celebrate surrender! I celebrate the power of being lifted. This is not just a birthday, this is a testimony! I have lived through enough storms to know that every breath I take today is a breath of purpose, and every step I make is walking proof that God is faithful. I didn’t drown! I rose!

There’s a sacred shift that happens when you realize that the water that almost broke you is the same water God used to bless you. What tried to take you out is what God used to take you in. The very thing that overwhelmed your soul became the river that cleansed it. I know it’s humbling to know that God doesn’t always rescue you by removing the problem, sometimes He redeems you by riding through it with you. And more than that, He lifts you with it. The stream that was rising wasn’t just a storm; it was a sign. A sign that God was about to reveal His power and His purpose. He’s the One who commands the winds and the waves, and when He’s finished using them to refine you, He makes them work in your favor.

There are places in your life where you’ve cried out, “God, if You don’t come through, I won’t survive this.” But you did survive. And not only that, you’re beginning to rise. You’re rising from trauma. You’re rising from betrayal. You’re rising from brokenness, lack, and shame. And here’s the miracle, you’re being lifted by the same water that tried to drown you. What once pushed you down is now lifting you up. What once silenced your voice is now the backdrop to your testimony. That’s the kind of God we serve, One who turns valleys into springs and graves into gardens. You’re rising because Grace reached into the deep and refused to let go!

Don’t be ashamed of where you’ve been submerged. That story matters. That struggle shaped something Holy in you. You didn’t just come out of the storm; you came out anointed. The wilderness trained your ears to hear God differently. The water baptized your heart in a deeper surrender. And now, instead of fighting the flow, you’ve learned how to lean into it. You don’t rise the same way you fell. You rise with spiritual intelligence. You rise with scars that have become stories. You rise with the weight of His Glory and the fragrance of His Oil. God allowed you to be submerged so that your surface wouldn’t carry residue, only radiance.

Sometimes it takes going under for God to uproot the things you tried to survive with. Your coping mechanisms. Your hidden fears. Your secret pain. But when God is done with you in the deep, you don’t come back up carrying the same baggage. He cuts cords. He unties knots. He uproots bitterness and re-roots you in truth. The lifting is not just outward, it’s inward. That stream didn’t just pass over your body; it reached your soul. And while it seemed like it was going to take you out, it actually took something off you that couldn’t stay. You’re rising because something was released.

Even Jesus experienced the power of being submerged. At His baptism, when He came up out of the water, the heavens opened, and the Father declared, “This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased” (Matthew 3:17). Your rise isn’t just about deliverance; it’s about divine announcement. When you emerge, you’re not just clean, you’re called. You’re not just free, you’re favored. And God will use what almost destroyed you to become the declaration of your destiny. Don’t minimize the magnitude of this moment. The very water that almost silenced you has become the platform for your sound. The current didn’t kill you, it crowned you.

The testimony of your lifting is not for you alone. It’s for those still gasping beneath the weight of their own waters. You are the proof that God is faithful. You are the witness that He is mighty to save. Your story is a lifeline. Don’t hide the details of your descent or the depth of your desperation. That is where the anointing came from. The oil is in the crushing. The sound is in the silence. The healing is in the hidden places. And now, God is calling you to rise, not quietly, but boldly. Rise and tell the world that the water didn’t win. Tell them that the God who made the water walks on it, and now, so can you.

The Water Didn’t Win, Isaiah 43:1–2 (KJV) – “Fear not: for I have redeemed thee, I have called thee by thy name; thou art mine… When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee…” You belong to the One who made the sea, and the waves cannot overtake what He has redeemed.

Let’s Pray:
Father, I stand in awe that You allowed the waters to come near but never let them overcome me. You are the God who redeems, rescues, and restores, even in the places where I felt most abandoned. You drew me out of deep waters. You held me when I could not hold myself. I thank You that the very flood that tried to swallow me became the river of my revival. You let me go under so You could raise me in Your image, not my own strength. I see now that the waters were never sent to destroy me, they were sent to refine me. Thank You Father, for being with me through every wave, every tide, and every undercurrent. Thank You for the lifting that doesn’t just come with deliverance but with destiny. I speak over my soul that I am not what I went through, I am who You say I am. I am rising in favor. I am emerging with purpose. I am stepping forward, clothed in the righteousness of Christ and armed with the testimony of Your faithfulness. The flood passed over, but I remain. The stream surged, but it didn’t take my song. The water rose, but it did not drown my worship. Lord, heal the parts of me that still tremble at the memory of the storm. Let my mind be at peace. Let my body rest in Your Sovereignty. I break every agreement with fear and declare that the water was a part of my witness, not the end of my story. Use what I’ve been through as a well for others to draw from. Let the overflow from my lifting become the encouragement someone else needs to survive. Make me a lifeline. Make me a voice. Make me a living testimony of Grace, grit, and Glory. I declare in Jesus Name that I will never see the water the same. It was never stronger than my Savior. It was never more powerful than Your purpose. The stream that passed over my soul left behind a song of praise and a trail of oil. I am not afraid to go deep, because You go before me. I will not be ashamed of what tried to take me out, because it is now my testimony that You brought me out. Let the Heavens open as I rise. Let Your Voice speak over me, “This is My child, in whom I am well pleased.” Father, cover me in the current of Your Spirit. Baptize me again in surrender. Draw me out daily, not just from trouble, but into truth. I declare that I am lifted by grace, led by truth, and loved without end. In the Name of Jesus Christ, I pray, Amen!

Blessings…
Love, Dr. Jean

Psalm 18:16 (KJV) – “He sent from above, he took me, he drew me out of many waters.”

There’s something mysterious about how God moves in the depths. He doesn’t waste the storm or the struggle. Yesterday, we focused on the undercurrent, that invisible movement of Grace pushing you beneath the surface. Today, we focus on the rise, the supernatural lift that comes after you have endured the riptide. A riptide is a strong, narrow current that pulls swimmers away from shore.

It’s unexpected, aggressive, and overwhelming. But here’s the truth that defies the natural, what pulled you away is not going to leave you lost. What took you away from what was familiar is going to bring you into what is divinely prepared. You are coming up, not where you went under, but in a new place that only the Hand of God could position you for. The rise is coming, and this time it’s in resurrection power.

You may feel like life has been pulling at you in all directions, family struggles, personal disappointments, financial uncertainty, or spiritual dryness. But what looks like chaos on the surface is being governed by the Sovereignty of God underneath. Even when the riptide of life pulls you from what’s safe, God is not surprised. He knows the coordinates of your soul. He knows how deep you’ve gone and how long you’ve been under. You haven’t been forgotten, you’ve been hidden. And the God who sees in secret is preparing to reveal you in power.

What has pulled you away is now pushing you forward. You’re not being cast away, you’re being called out. Don’t panic in the pull. That’s where most of you want to fight or flee. But spiritual maturity teaches you to trust the tide when God is in control of it. Just like Peter had to learn to walk on what he feared, you too must learn to trust God in unfamiliar places. The reason it’s unfamiliar is because it’s new territory. And where God is taking you in this season, you’ve never walked before. This rise isn’t about returning to where you were, it’s about arriving where you are destined to be. Let go of the expectation that God is going to bring you back to what was!

Instead, expect that He’s bringing you up into what’s next. You’re rising, not in a circle, but in a straight line, forward. Jesus met His disciples after the storm and on the other side. Mark 4:35 reminds us that He told them, “Let us pass over unto the other side.” The undercurrent and the storm were part of the journey, not the end of it. You can’t rise in the same place you went down because God is a God of progress. He doesn’t recycle pain for pity; He uses it for promotion. You’re not coming up empty-handed. You’re coming up with wisdom, with strategy, with deeper worship, and a heart that beats to the rhythm of surrender.

This place of emergence is not just for your benefit; it’s for His Glory. And when people see you, they won’t see the water you went through, they’ll see the wonder of the One who brought you through it!  God often allows the riptide to remove the things you would never let go of on your own. It tears away attachments, unanchors distractions, and frees you from the shallow places you have grown too comfortable in. When you rise, you rise refined. It’s in the depths that you realize how fragile your own strength is and how trustworthy God’s Hand is. The rise is not just physical, it’s emotional, spiritual, and mental. You will think higher, love deeper, and walk lighter.

You’ve been made new in the water. And now that the lifting has begun, don’t try to cling to the past. There’s nothing for you back there. This rise is forward. This rise is free. Let this be your reminder, the riptide did not come to destroy you, it came to deliver you. The depth of your descent only set the stage for the height of your elevation. God is drawing you out of many waters, just as David declared in Psalm 18:16. What you thought would bury you has only become the backdrop for your breakthrough.

What was once confusion is now clarity. What was fear is now fire. You’re not only rising, you’re being revealed. You’re being planted in purpose, rooted in righteousness, and established by His Hand. This is not a casual climb, it’s a prophetic positioning. You are being drawn out to be drawn in. The Rise Is Here Isaiah 40:31 (KJV) – “But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles…” You didn’t just survive the riptide; you soared from it. And the shore you are landing on was always part of the plan!

Let’s Pray:
Father, thank You for pulling me out of waters I didn’t know how to escape. Thank You for not letting the riptide drown me in discouragement or overwhelm me with fear. You’ve shown me that what was pulling me away was actually pushing me into my promise. You are the God who knows the depths and commands the waves. You are Sovereign over every tide. I now see that the place I thought was my end is only the entrance to a new beginning. Lord, raise me in the power of Your Spirit. Let this be the season of my rising, not by my own strength, but by Your divine Hand. Father, I release the fear of going back and I embrace the courage to go forward. I surrender the need to understand the route and choose instead to trust the One guiding the current. Thank You for repositioning me. Thank You for trusting me with this journey through the depths. I declare that this is my rising season. I declare that I will come up with joy, with wisdom, and with renewed worship. Everything that I lost in the riptide, You will restore in the rise. Father, I receive the fresh wind, the Holy fire, and the supernatural strength that only comes from being with You in the deep. Now, Lord, let the shame sink and let Your glory rise in me. Let every old weight stay buried in the waters of yesterday. Let every old fear lose its grip. I don’t rise to return; I rise to reign. You’ve given me beauty for ashes and purpose for pain. I walk into this new place with holy confidence, with a purified heart, and with a fresh yes. Take me deeper still and lift me higher than I’ve ever imagined. Thank You for the rise that changes everything. I am ready. In Jesus Christ Mighty Name, Amen!

Blessings…
Love, Dr. Jean

Isaiah 43:2 (KJV) ~ “When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee: when thou walkest through the fire, thou shalt not be burned; neither shall the flame kindle upon thee.”

There are seasons in life where it feels like we’re barely keeping our head above water, seasons of uncertainty, heartbreak, transition, and testing. You often expect God to calm the storm around you, but sometimes He chooses to guide you through the storm instead, using the undercurrent to direct you to your next destination.  The “undercurrent”, those hidden, strong, often unseen movements beneath the surface, can feel like they’re dragging you under. But what if God was using that very force to transport you to the place of your next breakthrough? 

When you feel out of control, unable to anchor yourself, and overwhelmed by life’s waves, you must remember this, the water is under His authority!  Just like Jonah, what took you down is not what will keep you down. The fish was never Jonah’s prison; it was God’s provision to redirect him. You may have gone under, but you’re not going to drown. You’re being repositioned. Where you went under is not where you are going to come up. God often allows you to be submerged in unfamiliar or uncomfortable environments to shed what can’t go with you into the next season! 

The location of your surrender is not the same as your emergence. In other words, you may have cried out to God in one place, but you’re going to rise in another, stronger, wiser, more surrendered. Like Moses hidden in the bulrushes or Joseph lowered into the pit, the descent was not the final destination. God allows moments of being hidden beneath the surface to work humility, transformation, and clarity within you. He’s not just changing your position; He’s changing your posture. You will emerge, but not as the same person who went under. You’re coming up with revelation, restoration, and renewal that only the depth of God could produce.

The force that tried to break you is the same one God will use to build you! That undercurrent, the emotional pressure, the spiritual warfare, the loss, the confusion, was never meant to be the end. It was a divine transport. It was the move of the Spirit beneath the chaos. Romans 8:28 reminds us that “all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.” You may have thought you were being buried, but you were being planted. That season didn’t destroy you; it developed you. Every tear sown in sorrow is coming up in strength! 

You thought the detour was a delay, but it was a divine disguise. The hands of God were under you the whole time, carrying you through what you couldn’t carry yourself through. There is a place called resurfacing. And when you come up, you’ll come up in a new direction, on a new shore, with new strength. Just as Jesus came walking on what once overwhelmed the disciples, God is calling you to rise and walk on the very thing you feared! 

Peter went under when he looked at the storm, but Jesus didn’t let him drown, He reached beneath and pulled him up. You’re not rising alone; the hand of God is lifting you. He knows exactly where you are, even when you feel lost beneath the pressure. Psalm 139:9-10 declares, “If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea; even there shall thy hand lead me.” The Lord’s hand is the undercurrent, moving, guiding, and upholding you.

This season might have felt like survival, but God is turning it into revival. Where you thought you would drown in disappointment, He’s bringing you up in destiny. The fear that tried to silence your voice is now the fuel that will activate your victory! Your cry didn’t go unheard; it activated the heavens. The enemy may have watched you go under and assumed it was over. But resurrection is coming. You are rising in power, in clarity, and with fresh oil. The oil flows from the crushing, and the deeper the press, the greater the glory. You didn’t just survive the storm; you’ve been changed by it. The waves didn’t wash away your purpose, they revealed it! 

Don’t despise the undercurrent. It’s the silent escort of grace. You weren’t left to drift without direction. Every pull, every tug, every twist beneath the surface was attached to your promise. Just as Jesus told His disciples to cast their net on the other side, sometimes you must be repositioned to receive what’s already been prepared. God didn’t forget about you in the deep. The deeper He took you, the more He was preparing to reveal through you. Now, as you come up and out, don’t return to shallow living. Let this depth mark your walk. Let it deepen your faith. Let it shift your prayers and renew your fire.

What you thought would consume you has consecrated you. What you thought was an ending is the entrance into a new anointing. The river may have risen, but it did not sweep you away. You are proof that grace flows even beneath the surface. You are coming up in a new place, with a new name, a fresh wind, and a mantle of purpose that can only be carried by those who’ve been through the deep. So, rise, not in fear, but in faith. Rise, not in shame, but in strength. Rise, not alone, but with the Hand of God still wrapped around you!

Let’s Pray:

Father, I bless Your Holy Name, because even when I felt like I was drowning, You never left my side. You are the God who goes beneath the surface. You are not just the Master of the mountain, but the God of the depths. Thank You for being with me in the waters that rose around me and for speaking peace to the storm inside of me. Thank You that what felt like the end was only the beginning of a new direction. I praise You for every wave that didn’t take me out but taught me how to trust You even the more. You didn’t allow me to go under to destroy me, but to develop me. You were using the undercurrent to break the chains, cleanse my heart, strip off the weights, and redirect me into purpose. Lord, I now understand that where I went under in sorrow, I will come up in strength. Where I sank in fear, I will rise in faith. Where I cried out in confusion, I will rise in clarity. Let the water that was once a place of weakness now become a witness of Your power. You are the God who causes all things to work together for my good (Romans 8:28). You took what the enemy meant for evil and turned it into the current of my calling. I now submit to the pull of Your Spirit, even when I don’t understand the direction. Lead me by Your undercurrent of Grace. Carry me where my feet cannot take me and build in me what the surface could never produce. Father, I declare now that the deep has not defeated me, it has defined me. You have reshaped me, renewed me, and restored what I thought was lost. I repent for the times I resisted the process, for questioning the purpose of the deep, and for trying to swim back to comfort when You were leading me into calling. Father, forgive me for fearing what was meant to forge me. Lord, sanctify this journey through the waters, and use every scar as a sign that I passed through what should have consumed me. Just as You were with Israel at the Red Sea and with Daniel in the lion’s den, I know You were with me in every dark place, every silent moment, and every overwhelming tide. Thank You, Father, that I am not surfacing the same. I’m rising with oil that only the deep can press out. I’m rising with a mantle of authority forged in surrender. I’m rising with a deeper hunger for Your Presence and a sensitivity to the sound of Your Voice. I’m rising with strength to lead, to testify, to heal, and to build. Your word declares in Isaiah 43:2 that when I pass through the waters, You will be with me, and through the rivers, they shall not overflow me. I stand on that promise. I declare that I am walking into the place You designed for me, carried by Your Grace and clothed in Your Glory. Anoint my feet to walk in unfamiliar places with confidence. Let me never settle again for shallow living. Teach me how to navigate with discernment and never let me forget that it was You who sustained me beneath the surface. I surrender the memory of where I went under, and I release the fear that still tries to hold me captive. I declare that shame has no voice in this new season. I break agreement with every lie I believed in the deep and fully align myself with Your truth. I prophesy over my life: I am coming up free. I am coming up healed. I am coming up mantled. I am coming up whole. Father, cover me in the current of Your Presence. Wash over me with waves of wisdom. Baptize me again in fire and purpose. Let me never be the same. Use my story for Your Glory. Let the world see a testimony rising from the waters. Where I went under in weakness, I am coming up in power. I seal this prayer in the Name of the One who walks on water and lifts me from the depths, Jesus Christ, the Living Word, my Anchor and my Deliverer. In Jesus Christ Name, I pray. Amen!

Blessings…

Love, Dr. Jean

Luke 12:32 (NLT) ~ “So don’t be afraid, little flock. For it gives your Father great happiness to give you the Kingdom.”

Jesus concludes this life-changing conversation with His disciples not by giving them a strategy, but by revealing the heart of the Father. After walking them through the layers of anxiety, identity, provision, and thought patterns, He speaks this tender assurance: “Don’t be afraid, little flock.” It is not just instruction; it is an invitation. A reminder that you are not forgotten sheep scattered on your own, but you are held, seen, and led by a faithful Shepherd. Every day of this journey has pulled back another layer of fear and lifted you into the truth of Kingdom living. On Day One, you were reminded not to worry because life is more than your daily concerns, and you are more valuable than you realize.

On Day Two, Jesus told you to look at the ravens, unclean, unqualified birds who don’t sow or reap, yet are daily fed by God, and He said, “You are far more valuable than them.” On Day Three, you saw the lilies grow effortlessly, clothed in beauty greater than Solomon’s robes, without toil, without shame. They were simply cared for. On Day Four, Jesus addressed the real battleground, your thoughts. He said don’t let these needs dominate your mind, because your Father already knows what you need. And now, He says: “Don’t be afraid.” Not because the world isn’t broken. Not because the need is gone. But because the Kingdom is yours, and your Father is joyful about giving it to you.

This is more than comfort, it’s commissioning. The Kingdom is not just a future place of promise. It is present peace, righteousness, joy, and provision. It is Heaven’s reality manifesting in your earthly journey. And Jesus says that the Father takes great delight in placing that Kingdom into your hands. He’s not a reluctant giver. He’s not withholding to test you. He finds joy in seeing you walk in what was already designed for you.

This is the shift that brings all the other days into focus.  You don’t have to worry (Day One), because the Kingdom contains all you need. You don’t have to perform for provision (Day Two), because Kingdom inheritance isn’t earned, it’s received. You don’t have to strive for beauty or approval (Day Three), because you’re already clothed in glory and righteousness. You don’t have to be dominated by fear-filled thoughts (Day Four), because Kingdom truth governs your mind. You only need to receive what your Father delights to give, His Kingdom (Day Five). Living from Heaven’s perspective doesn’t deny that needs exist. It declares that needs don’t dictate your identity or your peace. 

Living from Kingdom reality means waking up each day knowing you are a son or daughter of God, not a spiritual beggar waiting for scraps. You are loved, not overlooked. Secure, not striving. Covered, not forgotten. This is the posture of peace, resting in the joy of your Father. You can be fearless not because you control everything, but because the One who does loves you fiercely. He is not burdened by your needs; He delights in meeting them. The Kingdom isn’t far off, it’s already being poured into your life every time you trust Him more deeply, surrender more fully, and walk more boldly. Today, lift your eyes. You are part of something eternal, unshakable, and freely given. Don’t be afraid, little flock. You belong to the Father, and the Kingdom belongs to you.

Let’s Pray:

Abba Father, I come before You in awe of Your love. You are not just my Creator; you are my Shepherd. My Provider. My Peace. My King. And today, I receive this word like living water to my soul: “Don’t be afraid, little flock. It gives Your Father great happiness to give you the Kingdom.” I rest in Your joy. Thank You for walking me through every layer of fear this week. Thank You for reminding me that I don’t have to live worried, because my life is more than what I see. You’ve called me valuably, even when I feel uncertain. You’ve shown me ravens and lilies and reminded me that I’m even more loved than they are. You’ve renewed my mind, pulled down fear, and replaced it with truth. Father, I confess that I’ve often lived like I had to earn Your attention or chase down Your provision. But You’ve already prepared it for me. You take joy in blessing me. You’re not waiting for perfection. You’re looking for trust. And today, I trust You. Father, let Your Kingdom reign in my mind. Let it govern my emotions. Let it rule over my choices. I receive the peace of the Kingdom, the joy of the Kingdom, the power of the Kingdom. I receive the identity of a son, of a daughter, no longer driven by fear, no longer burdened by performance. Father, let my life become a resting place for Your presence. Let the evidence of the Kingdom be seen in how I walk, how I speak, how I love, and how I trust. You are not withholding from me. You are rejoicing over me. So, I say yes to Your Kingdom. Yes to peace instead of panic. Yes to worship instead of worry. Yes to surrender instead of striving. Yes to the voice of my Shepherd who says, “Don’t be afraid.” Thank You for giving me the Kingdom. Thank You for giving me Yourself. In Jesus Christ Mighty Name, my Shepherd, my King, and the joy of my soul. Amen! 

Blessings…

Love Dr. Jean

Have A Blessed Weekend…

Luke 12:29–30 (NLT) ~ “And don’t be concerned about what to eat and what to drink. Don’t worry about such things. These things dominate the thoughts of unbelievers all over the world, but your Father already knows your needs.”

Here you are on Thursday, in the second week of June 2025, and you are standing in the middle of a heart-shifting truth: God never intended for you to carry what only He can cover. From the beginning of this passage in Luke 12, Jesus has been peeling back the layers of worry, fear, striving, and lack. He told you not to worry about everyday life (Monday), He showed you ravens who receive without working for it (Tuesday), and lilies clothed in beauty without striving (yesterday). 

Now God is reaching even deeper, into your mind, to reveal what truly fuels your anxiety, your dominating thoughts. Jesus says that worry and fear aren’t just passing feelings. They become mental dictators when left unchecked. “These things dominate the thoughts of unbelievers…” Worry takes over where trust has not yet been planted. It occupies your thoughts like a ruler on a throne. And Jesus confronts it with tenderness and authority, urging you to examine not only what you feel, but what you’re feeding yourself. 

You can be doing everything “right” externally and still be consumed internally. You can speak words of faith with your mouth but rehearse worst-case scenarios in your mind. You can sing “Great is Thy Faithfulness” on Sunday and still spiral in fear on Monday. Jesus is teaching you that transformation begins when your minds are renewed by truth, not ruled by fear. Think about what you have already been told, your life is more than food or clothing. You’re not defined by your needs but by your value. God feeds the ravens who don’t sow or store, they just show up and trust that provision will be there. God clothes the lilies in glory and splendor, without them working for it. 

And here’s the point: If He’s already doing all of that, why are you letting fear lead your thoughts? This is the crossroads, either your thoughts will be dominated by need, or they’ll be governed by trust. Either fear will drive your decisions, or faith will direct them. The difference isn’t just external, it’s internal. Your mind is the gate to your peace. What gets in your thoughts eventually gets into your heart, and what gets into your heart shapes how you live.

Jesus is not just talking about worry; He’s addressing identity. He says, “But your Father already knows your needs.” Not just “God knows”, but your Father. This is a relationship, not a contract. The unbeliever doesn’t have this assurance, which is why their thoughts spiral with fear. But you, His child, you don’t have to live like that. You have a Father who knows, sees, and provides. His awareness of your needs is constant, and His willingness to meet it is delightful.

So, ask yourself, what is dominating your thoughts today? Is it the echo of your need or the voice of your Shepherd? Is it the panic of “what if,” or the peace of “even if”? God is calling you back to a sound mind, one that is filled not with worry, but with wisdom and wonder. A mind that doesn’t rehearse fear but meditates on truth. A mind that doesn’t cling to control but surrenders to the Father who already knows. If God provides food for ravens and clothes for lilies, how much more is He watching over your heart, your household, your tomorrow?  The shift begins with your thoughts. Let trust take the throne where fear once ruled. Let truth evict anxiety. And let your mind be the place where peace is planted and protected.

Let’s Pray:

Heavenly Father, I bow before You, acknowledging that my mind has often been a battlefield where fear has had too much power. I have let my thoughts be consumed by what I don’t know, what I can’t control, and what I haven’t yet seen. But today, I bring my mind back under Your authority. I want Your Word to dominate my thinking, not my worries. Thank You for every truth You’ve revealed so far. You told me that life is more than food and clothing, and You reminded me that I am more than what I fear. You showed me the raven, and taught me that You provide for the unlikely, the unqualified, and the unclean, and I am far more valuable. You pointed me to the lilies and whispered that beauty comes from surrender, not from stress. You showed me again and again that I am cared for. Known. Covered. And now, God, You’re touching the part of me that’s hardest to surrender, my thoughts. My inner world. The place where what I say and what I think haven’t always matched. Forgive me, Father, for meditating on fear more than Your promises. For feeding my mind with doubt, even while lifting my hands in worship. Cleanse my mind. Purify my thoughts. Tear down every lie that has rooted itself in anxiety and uproot every stronghold that’s blocking Your peace. I speak to every racing thought, every internal voice of worry, and I declare: You are not my shepherd, Jesus is. I will not let these things dominate my thinking. My Father knows. My Shepherd leads. And my King provides. Fill my mind with reminders of Your faithfulness. Bring back every testimony of Your provision. Let my thoughts rehearse Your victories, not my vulnerabilities. Help me to renew my mind with Your Word, to meditate on what is true, noble, right, and pure. And let peace guard my heart and mind through Christ Jesus. I surrender my mind back to You, Father. I choose faith over fear, truth over torment, and trust over control. Thank You that I am not abandoned to figure it all out. You already know my needs, and You have never failed me. In the mighty name of Jesus Christ Name, my Anchor, my Answer, and the Keeper of my mind, I pray. Amen! 

Blessings…

Love, Dr. Jean

Luke 12:27–28 (NLT) ~ “Look at the lilies and how they grow. They don’t work or make their clothing, yet Solomon in all his glory was not dressed as beautifully as they are. And if God cares so wonderfully for flowers that are here today and thrown into the fire tomorrow, he will certainly care for you. Why do you have so little faith?”

There is something disarming and sacred about a field full of lilies. They do not strive. They do not labor. They do not toil. Yet they grow. Quietly, steadily, effortlessly, rooted in soil they did not choose, watered by a sky they do not control. They grow without striving, and they bloom without stress. And Jesus is telling you to look at them.

He doesn’t just want you to notice their beauty, He wants you to absorb their message. He wants you to see the Father’s care stitched into every petal, to understand that provision is not earned but given. These lilies do not weave fabric, yet they wear divine design. They do not spin thread, yet they are clothed in beauty that puts Solomon’s royal wardrobe to shame. If that’s what God does for flowers that last only a short time, how much more will He do for you?

There is something healing in knowing that beauty and value do not require hustle. The lilies are beautiful because God made them so. They are covered because God chose to clothe them. Their glory is not self-made; it is God-given. This breaks the cycle of proving yourself. You are not dressing yourself in righteousness, provision, or purpose, but God is. His hand clothes you in what you need, right when you need it.

Jesus isn’t just making a comparison; He’s extending an invitation. He wants you to live as freely as the lilies. To trust the unseen process of growth. To believe in the invisible hand that nourishes roots before anything is seen above the surface. To know that just as God wrapped lilies in splendor, He is wrapping your life in purpose, provision, and beauty, even when you feel buried.

But Jesus also asks a piercing question: “Why do you have so little faith?” This isn’t an accusation, it’s a heart check. Faith withers when you believe the lie that you have to make everything happen for yourself. Faith shrinks when you forget that you are not abandoned to figure it all out. Fear flourishes where faith has been choked out. And Jesus, with love in His voice, calls you back to trust.

There is divine beauty in being cared for. God is not a distant observer; He is an intentional Father. He notices what withers. He sees what blooms. And He never lets your season of silence go to waste. You are more than a passing flower. You are His masterpiece. He has clothed you with strength and dignity. And when you feel exposed, uncertain, or overlooked, you can remember this: you are still covered.

Even in seasons of transition, He is the One dressing your life with favor, Grace, and Glory. He knows what you’re going to need before you do. And He is already tending to the soil of your tomorrow. You are not forgotten. You are not hidden. You are being prepared and adorned for what’s ahead. So, grow like the lilies, slowly, silently, but beautifully. Don’t chase the world’s validation. Receive Heaven’s covering. You don’t need to make your own way. You just need to stay planted and trust that your Father is faithful to clothe you in what glorifies Him.

Let’s Pray:

Father, I thank You that I am seen by You. Just as You watch over the lilies of the field, You are watching over me. You clothe them in beauty, and You cover me in grace. You adorn them with splendor, and You robe me in mercy. I don’t have to fight for attention. I don’t have to strive for affection. I am already chosen, already loved, already covered. Father, forgive me for believing I had to clothe myself, for wrapping myself in fear, worry, or self-made protection. Forgive me for every time I forgot that You are my Source. That You are the One who decorates my life with favor, purpose, and provision. I lay down the garment of fear, the covering of anxiety, the cloak of heaviness, and I receive Your robe of righteousness and peace. Father, teach me, Lord, to grow like the lilies. Help me to trust the soil You’ve planted me in, even when I don’t understand it. Help me to believe that I am becoming more beautiful with every quiet yes to You. Teach me to see growth as a sign of Your care. Let me bloom without panic. Let me flourish in faith. Father, I believe You are clothing me for where I’m going. You are dressing my life in joy, wrapping me in peace, and preparing me to carry Your glory. Remind me that I am not thrown together, I am intentionally designed. I am not left bare; I am divinely covered. So even when I don’t feel it, I choose to say: I am cared for. I am clothed. I am growing. Let the beauty of my life point back to the beauty of my Creator. And let the world see that the One who cares for the lilies has not forgotten about me. In Jesus’ name, Amen! 

Blessings…

Love Dr. Jean….

Luke 12:24 (NLT) ~ “Look at the ravens. They don’t plant or harvest or store food in barns, for God feeds them. And you are far more valuable to him than any birds!”

We live in a culture that applauds performance and celebrates productivity. But the Kingdom of God invites us to a different rhythm, one that begins with resting in our identity before moving into activity. In Luke 12:24, Jesus pauses to teach you a powerful lesson about trust using one of the most unlikely creatures: the raven. Known for its harsh cry and scavenger nature, the raven seems like an odd example of God’s care. Yet Jesus uses the raven to illustrate the effortless way creation depends on the Creator.

The raven does not sow. It does not reap. It has no barns, no banks, no budgets, and yet it eats. Why? Because God feeds it. This is not a metaphor about laziness, but a call to faith. Jesus isn’t saying you shouldn’t work; He’s saying you must understand who the true Source is. Too often you confuse the channel with the source. Your job is a channel. Your gifts are channels. But your Provider is God and God alone.

God’s provision is not based on how “deserving” you feel. That’s why Jesus says look at the raven, a bird considered ceremonially unclean under Jewish law. He deliberately chooses a creature that others would overlook or even avoid demonstrating that nothing disqualifies you from His divine care.

You may feel broken, imperfect, or messy, but even ravens eat because of God’s goodness. And you are far more valuable. That phrase, “far more valuable”, is the heartbeat of this passage. Jesus is confronting the lie that is easily forgotten or left behind. He is establishing identity before action. When you truly believe you are valuable to God, fear begins to lose its grip. Worry starts to unravel. And suddenly, you stop chasing security and start living from it!

There is beauty in trusting God for today! The raven is fed daily! It doesn’t hoard or worry about next week. It lives in the moment, dependent on provision from a faithful hand. What would your life look like if you truly believed God was already in tomorrow, and that today’s portion is sufficient for today? Jesus reminds you that peace comes not from knowing all the answers, but from knowing you are held by the Answer.

Trusting like the raven doesn’t mean you do nothing, it means you stop doing everything from fear. There is holy activity that flows from rest, and then there is anxious activity that flows from worry. The raven invites you into the first. God is not only able to provide, but He also takes pleasure in doing it. And His supply is not limited to food or finances. He provides peace for your thoughts, rest for your bodies, wisdom for your decisions, and strength for your battles.

You don’t have to manipulate anything or anyone to get blessings into your hands. You don’t have to store up every possibility in fear of what might happen. You simply need to look up, and live open. The raven’s daily provision is Heaven’s daily reminder: You are not forgotten. You are not a burden. You are not alone. You are far more valuable, and God has already made arrangements to meet all of your needs!

Let’s Pray:
Abba Father, I thank You for this gentle but powerful reminder, that even the raven, unloved by man and overlooked by the world, is fed by You. You are the God who sees what no one else values, and You are the God who never forgets what belongs to You. I belong to You. Father, forgive me for the times I’ve tried to earn what You wanted to give. For the late nights of overthinking and the early mornings of fear-driven striving. Forgive me for tying my identity to my output and measuring my worth by what I can do instead of who I am in You. I’ve tried to plant and harvest, store and save, manage and control, but I’m tired. And You’re showing me that I don’t have to carry the pressure to perform anymore. Father, teach me the freedom of the raven’s rhythm. Teach me to trust You for today’s bread without being tormented by tomorrow’s unknowns. Quiet the noise that tells me I’m behind or not enough. And awaken me to the truth that I am more valuable than anything that flies, walks, or blooms on this earth. Let that truth settle deep in my bones until my heart begins to rest again. I receive Your provision, not just for my physical needs, but for my emotional and spiritual ones too. Feed my hope again, Lord. Fill my cup with peace again. Quench my thirst for control with the living water of Your sovereignty. I surrender the fear that has disguised itself as wisdom. I release the need to explain, to understand, to fix. I yield to You, the One who feeds ravens and clothes fields and still knows every detail about me. Father, remind me daily, Holy Spirit, that provision flows from promise, not performance. Let me work from rest, not for rest. Let me walk in grace, not in grasping. Let me steward what You give, not strain to get what You never called mine. You are enough. You are with me. And You are already working on what I haven’t even prayed yet. So today, I breathe out worry and breathe in trust. I take my hands off what I’ve been holding and place it all back into Yours. Provide for me, not only what I want, but what I truly need. And let me never forget that I am seen, sustained, and secured in the hands of my Father. In the Name of Jesus Christ, my Shepherd, my Sustainer, and my Supplier, I pray. Amen!

Blessings…
Love, Dr. Jean

Luke 12:22–32 (NLT) ~ “Then, turning to his disciples, Jesus said, “That is why I tell you not to worry about everyday life—whether you have enough food to eat or enough clothes to wear. [23] For life is more than food, and your body more than clothing. [24] Look at the ravens. They don’t plant or harvest or store food in barns, for God feeds them. And you are far more valuable to him than any birds! [25] Can all your worries add a single moment to your life? [26] And if worry can’t accomplish a little thing like that, what’s the use of worrying over bigger things?[27] Look at the lilies and how they grow. They don’t work or make their clothing, yet Solomon in all his glory was not dressed as beautifully as they are. [28] And if God cares so wonderfully for flowers that are here today and thrown into the fire tomorrow, he will certainly care for you. Why do you have so little faith?[29] And don’t be concerned about what to eat and what to drink. Don’t worry about such things. [30] These things dominate the thoughts of unbelievers all over the world, but your Father already knows your needs.[31] Seek the Kingdom of God above all else, and he will give you everything you need. [32] So don’t be afraid, little flock. For it gives your Father great happiness to give you the Kingdom.”

Jesus speaks into the most tender parts of your life, your needs, your fears, and the unknowns. In this passage, He gently turns to His disciples, not to condemn them for their worry but to release them from it. He names the very things that keep you up at night, food, clothing, daily provision. And then He tells you, “Don’t worry about everyday life.” Why? Because life is more, more than the temporary, more than the visible, more than the anxiety that tries to grip you in silence. He invites you to zoom out from your immediate concerns and see the bigger picture, for your life is valuable, and you are seen by God.

Jesus then draws your attention to nature, pointing to the ravens, birds that do nothing to earn their meals, yet they never miss one. These birds don’t hustle, they don’t store, and they don’t strive, and yet God feeds them. And then He delivers the heart-melting truth, “You are far more valuable to Him than any birds.” This is where worry begins to lose its grip. You are not forgotten. You are not unseen. You are not on your own. You are deeply valued by the Creator of heaven and earth.

He continues with a question that cuts through the fog of anxiety, “Can all your worries add a single moment to your life?” Not only does worry fail to help, but it also actually robs you. It steals time, peace, and clarity. If it can’t even add a moment, why should it dominate your days? The truth is, worry is weighty, but it is also fruitless. And Jesus is showing you a better way, not one of ignorance, but of faith that trusts God even when the need still exists.

The lilies, Jesus says, don’t spin or sew or design their own beauty. They simply grow. And somehow, in their dependence, they are adorned more radiantly than King Solomon in his royal attire. If God cares so intentionally for wildflowers, here one moment and gone the next, how much more will He clothe you? But the issue, Jesus notes, isn’t the need; it’s your faith. You doubt not because God has failed, but because fear often speaks louder than your faith does, unless you intentionally silence fear with truth.

Jesus lovingly acknowledges that these concerns dominate the thoughts of those who don’t know God. But you have a Father. And not just any father, your Father already knows what you need. You don’t have to convince Him to care. He already does. You don’t have to rehearse your pain to be heard. He already sees. He doesn’t need a reason to provide; He needs a heart willing to trust. This is the shift from striving to surrender. He instructs you to “Seek the Kingdom of God above all else.” That means aligning your focus not on what you lack but on Who you love. When you seek His Kingdom, His reign, His ways, His Will, He promises that everything else will be added. This is not a trade; it’s a transfer. 

When you give God first place, He gives you what you could never earn, peace, provision, direction, and purpose. What the world chases, the Father gives to those who seek Him. And then comes the most beautiful assurance: “Don’t be afraid, little flock.” Jesus calls you little, not to diminish you, but to remind you that you are sheep under the care of a Good Shepherd. You don’t have to figure everything out. You just have to follow the One who already has. And this Shepherd doesn’t just feed and protect; He delights in giving you the Kingdom. He finds joy in blessing you. His heart is not reluctant, it’s radiant with generosity.

Today, release your worries not into the air, but into His hands. He’s not overwhelmed by what overwhelms you. Your needs do not intimidate Him. He has already seen the road ahead and prepared the provision for it. Let go of the fear. You are far more valuable than you know, and He is far more faithful than you can imagined.

Let’s Pray:

Father God, I come before You today with a heart that longs to rest but is often restless. You see the unspoken fears, the private tears, the unvoiced questions about whether there will be enough, enough money, enough strength, enough time, enough grace. But You, Lord, are not just the God of enough; You are the God of more than enough. You are Jehovah Jireh, my Provider. I thank You for turning my eyes from the pressure of performance to the peace of Your promise. Forgive me for the times I’ve tried to carry what only You are meant to hold. I’ve worried about the future, forgotten Your past faithfulness, and doubted Your present goodness. But today, I choose surrender. I release my grip on every need I’ve been silently clutching. I give You my what-ifs, my how-wills, my when-Lords. I give You the fear that wakes me up at night and the pressure that weighs down my mornings. Remind me, Lord, that the ravens never wonder if food will come. The lilies never worry about their wardrobe. And if You care for them, You certainly care for me. I silence the lies that say I am unseen, unsupported, and unworthy. I declare that I am valuable to You. I am chosen, cared for, and held. And even when I don’t see the answer, I will stand on Your Word that tells me You already know my need. Teach me to seek Your Kingdom above all else, not just in church on Sunday but in the choices, I make every day. Let my thoughts, my desires, and my priorities reflect trust in You. Grow my faith until fear has no place left to rest. Let Your peace becomes my protection. Let Your joy becomes my strength. Lord, I believe that it brings You joy to provide for me. That truth changes everything. You are not reluctant or resistant; You are rejoicing over me with songs of deliverance. Today, I open my hands and heart to receive, not just Your provision, but Your presence. I invite You into my lack, and I trust You to lead me into overflow. In the Mighty Name of Jesus Christ, my Shepherd and my Peace, Amen! 

Blessings…

Love, Dr. Jean