Before and After

 

Before and After the Resurrection — Preparing for the Presence of God

In the Old Testament, the High Priest bore a weight that no man could carry without divine mercy. He was the only one permitted to enter the Holy of Holies, where the Presence of God rested above the mercy seat. But before he entered, he had to go through intense preparation — ceremonial washing, sacrifice, and purification — to stand even for a moment before God’s glory.

On the hem of his robe were golden bells and pomegranates, a divine provision for his protection. As he moved within the Holy of Holies, the sound of those bells would tell those outside that he was still alive in God’s presence. If the bells fell silent, it would mean he had perished — that sin had met holiness without covering. This vivid imagery reminds us how sacred and dangerous God’s presence was before Christ’s sacrifice made the way open.

 

The Necessity of Blood — Life for Life

Before the High Priest could even step into the Holy of Holies, blood had to be shed.

“For the life of the flesh is in the blood, and I have given it to you upon the altar to make atonement for your souls.”
— Leviticus 17:11

Blood represented life, and where there was sin, life had to be given to atone for it. The sacrifice of an innocent animal became a symbol — a substitution — showing that sin always brings death, but that mercy could be extended through the death of another.

Each drop of blood shed on Israel’s altars whispered of something greater to come.
Those animal sacrifices could only cover sin for a time; they could never change the heart or free humanity from sin’s power. They were temporary signs pointing toward the perfect sacrifice — the blood of Christ.

When Jesus shed His blood, He satisfied the full demand of God’s justice once for all.
His blood did not erase sin’s existence in the world, but it broke sin’s authority over the believer.
Sin may still happen in both the unbeliever’s and the believer’s life, but the difference now lies in our standing before God.

For the unbeliever, sin still condemns.
For the believer, sin grieves — but it no longer separates. The debt has been paid; the judgment has been carried.
Christ’s blood didn’t remove the presence of sin from human experience, but it removed sin’s power to condemn those who are in Him.

“There is therefore now no condemnation to those who are in Christ Jesus.”
— Romans 8:1

The believer may still stumble, but he stumbles on redeemed ground. The same blood that once satisfied justice now speaks mercy — declaring that forgiveness is available every time we return to the cross.

Where once the High Priest entered trembling with the blood of another, we now enter rejoicing, covered by the blood of Christ Himself.
And where once the sound of the bells marked the hope that the priest still lived, now the empty tomb proclaims that our High Priest lives forever — interceding for us even when we fall.

 

After the Resurrection — A New Access

When Jesus Christ died, the veil in the temple was torn from top to bottom. That act was more than symbolic; it was a declaration: access had been granted.
No longer would only one man, once a year, enter God’s presence. Through Christ’s blood, all who believe are invited to come boldly.

The preparation changed — no longer through the sacrifice of animals or ceremonial washing, but through faith in the finished work of the cross.
Where once death awaited any who entered unprepared, now life awaits all who come through Christ.

The High Priest’s fear has become the believer’s confidence.
The sound of the bells has become the sound of worship — not to confirm survival, but to celebrate eternal life.

 

The Confusion Between Access and Holiness

Yet even with this access, confusion can take hold in a believer’s heart. Personally, I know that my own acts of sacrifice — my victories over sin, my self-discipline, my efforts to live righteously — do not give me access to God.
They are necessary expressions of holiness, but they are not the foundation of my holiness.

When I conquer a sin in my life, it does not open heaven’s door for me; the door was already open because of Christ.
His sacrifice made me holy — mine never could.

Still, this can cause deep inner conflict. Because our minds are trained to believe that effort equals approval, we struggle to accept that we are accepted before we “get it right.”
But the truth is — holiness begins with position, not performance.

To understand this, think of the royal family.
When King Charles was born, he did not have to earn the title “Prince” or “heir to the throne.” He was born into that position. His behaviour as a child didn’t make him royal — his birthright did. The same was true of Queen Elizabeth: from the moment of her birth, she carried royal identity long before she ruled a single day.

That is exactly how holiness works in the life of a believer.
When we are born again, we are born into God’s royal household.
We become children — not by earning it, but by new birth through Christ.

Here is the critical point: the Christian life does call for repentance and works, but not to make us holy. We are called to turn from dead works — efforts that cannot save us — and live in the power of Christ’s finished work.

“Let us leave the elementary doctrine of Christ and go on to maturity, not laying again a foundation of repentance from dead works and of faith toward God.” — Hebrews 6:1

Our obedience, fasting, giving, and acts of service are not the ground of our holiness. They are the fruit of what Christ has already accomplished. When we repent, it is a turning away from our own powerless attempts and a turning toward His sufficient work.

Holiness by position means we are already clothed in Christ’s righteousness.
Holiness by performance is trying to stitch together our own garments of worthiness.

The first produces rest and gratitude; the second breeds either pride or despair.
When we grasp that we are already accepted, our hearts shift: we stop obeying to be loved and begin obeying because we are loved.
Our service becomes joyful instead of fearful.
Holiness becomes a natural response to belonging, not a desperate attempt to belong.

“For it is God who works in you both to will and to do of His good pleasure.” — Philippians 2:13

 

When Guilt Speaks in the Life of the Believer

Even so, guilt still lives in a believer’s heart when he breaches a commandment of God — when he knows what he should do but does the opposite. This is not the guilt of the condemned, but the pain of the redeemed who has grieved the Spirit within him.

Paul described this inner war in Romans 7:

“For I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do, I do not do, but what I hate, I do... For I know that good itself does not dwell in me, that is, in my sinful nature. For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out.” — Romans 7:15,18

This struggle is not weakness — it is awareness. It is proof that the Spirit is alive within us, convicting, not condemning.

Guilt, when rightly understood, becomes a tool of grace. It drives us back to the cross, reminding us that even this failure was paid for.
Paul’s cry,

“O wretched man that I am! Who shall deliver me from the body of this death?”
turns immediately into thanksgiving:
“I thank God — through Jesus Christ our Lord.”

The guilt we feel is not meant to push us away from God, but to pull us closer. It keeps us humble, dependent, and teachable before His Spirit.

Holiness, then, is not the absence of struggle, but the presence of surrender.

 

Understanding Sealed by the Spirit

We cannot create this understanding on our own.
The human mind can reason, but only the Holy Spirit can embed this truth into our hearts. He teaches us that grace is not permission to sin, but the power to overcome. He helps us see that righteousness is not earned through effort but received through faith.

When the Holy Spirit confirms this truth within us, guilt turns into repentance, and repentance becomes worship.
We no longer live in confusion but in communion.

 

The Result of True Understanding — Resting in Grace

When the Holy Spirit opens your eyes to the fullness of Christ’s finished work, something shifts within — you stop wrestling for acceptance and start resting in it. The striving that once defined your walk with God is replaced by quiet confidence.

You realise that grace isn’t a soft excuse; it is the strongest foundation you can stand on.

Resting in grace doesn’t mean passivity — it means living from a place of victory, not towards it. You no longer fight for freedom; you fight from freedom.

Your worship changes, too. You stop approaching God as one unworthy to enter and begin to worship as one already welcomed.
You begin to understand:

“Let us therefore come boldly to the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy and find grace to help in time of need.” — Hebrews 4:16

Boldly does not mean arrogance — it implies confidence in what Christ has done. You come knowing that even when you fail, your standing before God has not shifted.

This is the rest the high priests of old could never fully know.
They entered trembling, hoping to live.
We enter rejoicing, knowing we’ve already been made alive.

 

Hidden in the Cleft of the Rock

When Moses longed to see God’s glory, God told him,

“You cannot see My face, for no one may see Me and live.”
Yet God, in His mercy, made provision for Moses:

“There is a place near Me where you may stand on a rock.
When My glory passes by, I will put you in a cleft in the rock and cover you with My hand until I have passed by.” — Exodus 33:21–22

That cleft in the rock was a place of both covering and revelation. Moses could not stand in God’s glory unprotected, but hidden in the rock, he saw enough of God to be forever changed.

We, too, stand in that same spiritual cleft — Christ Himself, the Rock of Ages. Hidden in Him, we behold God’s glory without fear of destruction.
What was temporary for Moses is eternal for us.

Preparing for God’s presence is no longer ritual or fear — it is resting in our covering in Christ. Encountering God is living in continual communion with Him.

“Rock of Ages, cleft for me,
Let me hide myself in Thee.”

Signing off

Tyrone

Vessels of Honour

 

Vessels of Honour

Who among us hasn’t stumbled through life making mistakes? Some seem to navigate more gracefully than others—but I’m not one of them. My story bears the marks of divorce, failure, and wandering through seasons of compromise and confusion—all while claiming the banner of Christianity. It’s not a proud confession, but it’s the truth.

Yet through all the failure, there was never a denial of the truth. I changed, I fell, I wrestled—but God never changes. I’ve always believed that. Even when repentance didn’t immediately follow, I would still confess Jesus as Lord, because deep down, I knew He was my only truth. And when pressed, I confirmed that truth again and again—through confession.

So, what then for those like me? Those whose lives have been scarred by disappointment and wrong turns. I’ve long believed the answer lies in the only manual that never changes—the Word of God. The Bible remains our first and final authority, the only source that can turn brokenness into purpose.

The alternative is grim. We could choose despair—sit in the ashes of regret, declare ourselves victims, and live as though our failures define us. Woe is me; I’m done. But that’s not the end of the story. The only true end is to reject the Spirit completely—to commit the unpardonable sin, the depths of which I do not claim to understand. Yet I do know this: if there’s still even a flicker of hunger within you to call out to God, to ask for forgiveness and to honour His name—then hope remains.

This truth has stirred something in me. It’s caused me to ask: Where do I now fit into God’s plan?

We often forget that both light and darkness play their part in revealing God’s glory. In every household, there are different kinds of vessels—some for noble use, others for ordinary or even dirty work. Paul spoke of this when he said that if we cleanse ourselves from what is dishonourable, we can become vessels fit for honour. A bucket used for mopping might not be displayed in the living room, yet it has its purpose. Likewise, a costly piece of art is set high for all to see—but both have their place in the Master’s house.

“Therefore, if anyone cleanses himself from what is dishonourable, he will be a vessel for honourable use, set apart as holy, useful to the master of the house, ready for every good work. So, flee youthful passions and pursue righteousness, faith, love, and peace, along with those who call on the Lord from a pure heart. Have nothing to do with foolish, ignorant controversies; you know that they breed quarrels (2 Timothy 2;21-23)

Even in Scripture, we see those who faltered. Esau, who sold his birthright for a single meal—trading the eternal for the temporary. Judas Iscariot, who betrayed Jesus with a kiss—his will was his own, but someone had to be appointed to fulfill prophecy and play that part in God’s plan. Peter, too, denied the Lord three times, yet his story didn’t end there. He wept bitterly, repented, and was restored—a vessel reshaped by grace.

We can’t change our pasts—regret reminds us of that—but we can choose what comes next. God calls us to let go of what lies behind and press forward toward the high calling in Christ Jesus.

Whatever consequences we face because of past choices are temporary. They will pass.
But eternity—that’s forever.

Signing out
Tyrone

Application

 

APPLICATION: WALKING OUT THE WORD

We have faith, and we have commitment from individuals who genuinely believe. We have the Word of God right before us.
Yet one great question remains — how do we apply the voice of God in our lives?

We are tempted by our flesh. We know our hearts lean toward self-indulgence.
We understand that salvation is a gift — not something we can earn or buy.
Still, we are called to diligently apply ourselves to the Word.

Our minds can be a battlefield. Mine often races like a steam train — thoughts pulling in every direction — making it hard to stay focused.
So let me pause and share a personal testimony, because I have made mistakes in this area.

From the very beginning of my walk with Christ, God blessed me — or rather, gifted me — with an unshakable conviction about the authority of Scripture.
Since the day I was saved, I have never doubted that God’s Word is the final authority — no exceptions.

When it comes to the roles of men and women in the church, or marriage as between a man and a woman, my position is not based on personal opinion — it is based on the voice of God as revealed in His Word.

When God rescued me, it was radical. My life turned completely around — a full 180.
For years, our entertainment room and bar area became our “church home,” where 50 to 60 people gathered four times a week.
We modelled ourselves after the early church in Acts, and honestly, those were some of the happiest days of my life.

I loved our breaking of bread meetings, where the focus was entirely on the Lord Jesus and His finished work on the cross.
But as time went on, I realised my infancy stage was over. I had to start walking the walk.

And that is where the testing began. Temptation had become fiercer, and choices now needed to be made. Would I live out what I believed?

Sadly, I made many poor choices. Reconciling the Word with my life became difficult.
One thing was clear: the Word was inviolable. It was my gift, my foundation.

Yet like so many today, I tried to twist it to fit my own desires. I made grace a license.
I could not understand why I still faced certain temptations. I would ask myself, “If saved, why do I still struggle with lust? Why, if sin no longer has power over me, do I still wrestle with it?”

It felt like a contradiction. And no one could give me an answer that satisfied my soul.
Those unresolved doubts festered, and before long, I found myself spiralling — like a dog returning to its vomit.

Unless we learn to correctly apply the Word amid the noise — the static of modern life and the competing voices around us — we risk twisting God’s truth to our own harm.
We see this clearly in areas like same-sex relationships, where some churches accept what God’s Word clearly forbids.

The truth does not change.
There are no exceptions outside the finished work of the Cross.
To embrace the Cross while ignoring its instruction is to miss the point entirely.

The Bible remains the ultimate authority in all matters.
If you are seeking assurance, take hold of it — but do so in full obedience.
Living in open defiance of God’s voice will bar us from heaven.

“The gate is narrow, and few there be that find it.”
“Not everyone who says, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom, but only he who does the will of My Father.”

So how do we know the Father’s will?
We open the instruction manual — the Bible.

When our lives do not line up with the Word, we must do what Jacob did — wrestle with God and say,
“I will not let You go until You bless me.”
We must examine ourselves through the lens of Scripture.

For years, I struggled with applying the Word properly.
But thank God for His grace — for He who began a good work in us will complete it.

If we refuse to confront our sins, whatever they may be, we invite judgment.
Balance is vital in salvation.
Our hearts are deceitful and always searching for excuses.

True freedom only comes when we apply God’s principles — when we pass the tests He allows — and this is a daily process.
We often focus on the big battles, but real transformation happens when application to the voice of God becomes a lifestyle.

Scripture on Application

James 1:22–25 (NIV)
“Do not merely listen to the word, and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says.
Anyone who listens to the word but does not do what it says is like someone who looks at his face in a mirror
and, after looking at himself, goes away and immediately forgets what he looks like.
But whoever looks intently into the perfect law that gives freedom, and continues in it—
not forgetting what they have heard, but doing it—they will be blessed in what they do.”
The clearest call to application — hearing God’s Word must lead to doing.

Proverbs 4:7 (NKJV)
“Wisdom is the principal thing; therefore, get wisdom.
And in all your getting, get understanding.”
Understanding is the bridge between knowledge and application — knowing how to live what you know.

Philippians 4:9 (ESV)
“What you have learned and received and heard and seen in me—practice these things,
and the God of peace will be with you.”
Faith is lived through practice — application produces peace.

2 Timothy 3:16–17 (NIV)
“All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness,
so that the servant of God may be thoroughly equipped for every good work.”
Scripture isn’t meant just to be read — it’s meant to shape our conduct and character.

Matthew 7:24–25 (NIV)
“Therefore everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock.
The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall,
because it had its foundation on the rock.”
True discipleship means hearing and building life upon Jesus’ words.

John 13:17 (NIV)
“Now that you know these things, you will be blessed if you do them.”
Knowledge brings responsibility — blessing follows obedient application.

Final Thought

APPLICATION IS THE BRIDGE BETWEEN KNOWING AND BECOMING.
Faith without obedience remains theory — but faith applied becomes transformation.

Signing out

Tyrone

Dead Works and Living Proof

 

Dead Works and Living Proof

Intro:

We all know salvation can’t be earned — it’s a gift from God. But once we’ve received it, what does it look like in our lives?
This post explores the difference between dead works that try to earn God’s favour and living works that prove our faith through obedience.

When we speak of dead works, the meaning is simple enough: you cannot earn or buy your salvation.
The Word makes it clear — salvation is a gift, undeserved and unearned, received through faith in Christ alone.

“For by grace you have been saved through faith, and that not of yourselves; it is the gift of God, not of works, lest anyone should boast.” — Ephesians 2:8–9

No amount of ritual, religion, or personal effort can purchase what Christ already paid for with His blood.
To rely on works for salvation is to engage in dead works — things that may look holy but lack the breath of the Spirit.

Yet Scripture balances this truth with another:
Real faith produces real fruit.
We are not saved by works, but the evidence of salvation is seen in what we do.

“Faith by itself, if it does not have works, is dead.” — James 2:17

Think of Abraham.
When he lifted his hand to offer Isaac, that act didn’t earn his righteousness — it proved it.

“Do you see that faith was working together with his works, and by works faith was made perfect?” — James 2:22

Abraham’s obedience was not an attempt to impress God; it was the outflow of a trust so complete that it acted.
That’s living proof.

And Peter — after denying Christ — was not cast away but lovingly challenged:

“Do you love Me more than these?” — John 21:15

Each time Peter answered, Jesus responded with a command: “Feed My sheep.”
Love for Christ is proven not by words but by obedience.
Faith without action is lifeless confession.

There was a moment recently when I had to admit — I have been found wanting.
I saw that parts of my walk had grown comfortable, even complacent. My intentions were good, but my actions didn’t always match my confession.
It was a sobering reminder that God still weighs the heart, and that faith must continually be proved in obedience, humility, and love.

Yet even that realization is grace.
Because when God exposes where we fall short, He’s not condemning us — He’s inviting us to grow deeper, to move from dead effort to living obedience.

We are not striving to earn God’s acceptance — we already have it through Jesus.
But we prove our love and faith by our obedience, service, and endurance.

“For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand that we should walk in them.” — Ephesians 2:10

Dead works try to reach God through effort.
Living works flow from God through grace.

So yes — salvation is the gift.
But the proof of that salvation is a life that reflects the Giver.

Faith is the root.
Obedience is the fruit.

Let us not serve to be seen,
but let our lives prove that we know Him, love Him, and trust Him —
just as Abraham did, and as Peter learned to do.

SHOW ME YOUR FAITH WITHOUT YOUR WORKS, AND I WILL SHOW YOU MY FAITH BY MY WORKS.

— James 2:18

In His grace,

Signing off

Tyrone 

The Test of Faith

 

Journaling and Faith — The Test of Belief

Why do people journal? To clear their thoughts and stay aware of life’s realities, right?

So why do I blog? It begins with my reality in light of Christ’s sacrifice — the very act that allows me to cry, “Abba, Father.” The same holds true for every born-again believer.

The cares of this life are too many to number. They constantly fight for our attention, trying to pull us away from what truly matters: God’s will for our lives and the call to pass the test along the way. Every great man or woman of God faced tests that defied human reasoning.

Abraham was told to leave everything and go to a place he didn’t know. Later, he was asked to sacrifice his son Isaac.
Sarah was promised a child long after her natural ability had ended. She laughed at first, but when we look closer — she believed.
Samson, Gideon, Barak, Rahab the harlot, Jacob blessing Joseph’s sons — all faced their tests.
But the greatest of all was our Lord Jesus, who laid down His life in faith, trusting His Father. When the weight of it all pressed down, He cried out:

“Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?” — “My God, my God, why have You forsaken Me?”

Haven’t we all, in some way, felt forsaken?
I understand that actions have consequences — every action has a reaction. Science teaches this: what goes up must come down. Unless, of course, it’s a balloon filled with helium, which defies gravity.
Faith is like that — it rises above the natural. But how can we understand its power unless we’re tested in it? Faith is not blind; it has reference points — the Word of God. NEVER FORGET THIS.

The Tests of Faith

Tests come in many forms.
Maybe we’re in a room where Christ is mentioned — do we speak up or stay silent?
Maybe we’re jobless again — do we panic, or do we apply the truth of Scripture?
It’s easier said than done. When pressure mounts, the test is real. Whether we landed there through our own mistakes or by God’s design, having said that, we know that God is Sovereign; the goal remains the same — pass the test.

To qualify in anything, we must pass the exam. Faith is no different.

So, what’s our yardstick to measure our commitment to God and our walk of faith?
The Bible — and everything written in it.
Not half-baked prophecies that can’t be backed by Scripture. “I have a word for you” has become a popular phrase, but Scripture is the final authority on all things.
This must be our foundation. Only then can we wrestle with deeper truths.

I’ve always admired Charles Spurgeon’s approach to Scripture — he placed the Word above all, even the greats of old. “I am a Calvinist, and a lover of that grand man’s memory and doctrine; but I believe nothing merely because Calvin taught it, but because I have found his teaching in the Word of God.” — C. H. Spurgeon. (Often cited from Sermon #2584 / published collections.) We can all get things wrong, but the fewer errors we make, the more we honour Scripture’s rightful place.

An Example: The Nephilim

Before the Flood, the Bible records a mysterious group called the Nephilim.
Some struggle to believe they existed, but we believe because God’s Word says so. Even if we don’t fully understand, we still believe.

Genesis 6:1–4

“When men began to multiply on the face of the earth and daughters were born unto them, the sons of God saw that the daughters of men were fair; and they took them wives of all which they chose... There were Nephilim in those days—and also afterwards—when the sons of God came in unto the daughters of men, and they bore children to them. These were the mighty men of old, men of renown.”

Numbers 13:33

“We saw the Nephilim there (the descendants of Anak come from the Nephilim). We seemed like grasshoppers in our own eyes, and we looked the same to them.”

These are the only two biblical references to the Nephilim.

Meaning:
In Hebrew, Nephilim (נְפִלִים) comes from naphal (נָפַל) — “to fall.” It literally means fallen ones.
My conclusion: fallen angels — though the text itself never directly says so. The “sons of God” in Genesis likely refer to angelic beings, which explains the centuries-long debate among scholars.

What we know for sure:

1.    They existed before the Flood — and perhaps after.

2.   They were linked to “sons of God” and “daughters of men.”

3.   They were mighty men of renown.
Everything beyond that is interpretation.

The Septuagint (Greek translation of the Old Testament, 3rd century BCE) translates Nephilim as gigantes — “giants,” though in Greek this also meant “earth-born.”
The Book of Enoch, a non-canonical text, teaches that these were the offspring of fallen angels and human women. (I reached this conclusion without Enoch’s help.)
Historical texts can add context, but they do not supersede Scripture.

There is no archaeological evidence for giant beings or angel–human hybrids.
Factually, we can say only this:

• Nephilim = “fallen ones.”
• Mentioned in Genesis 6:4 and Numbers 13:33 only.
• Described as mighty men of old, men of renown.
• Identity uncertain — either divine–human offspring or powerful ancient rulers.
• No physical evidence exists.

The key point? We believe Scripture first — even when understanding lags. This guards us from deception. The Bible warns that in the last days, some will depart from the faith, following deceiving spirits and doctrines of demons.

This is your warning: hold to Scripture as the final authority.

The Real Test

Now, back to faith.
We will be tested — we must be tested — or we’ll never know the depth of our faith.

Let me be personal. I am once again jobless. The worry of tomorrow tries to consume me, yet I know I am commanded not to worry.
So I searched the Word:

Matthew 6:34 — “Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.”

The context? Material provision.
The test? Whether I’ll trust God to provide as He promised — or take matters into my own hands.

People often mean well when offering advice, but this is my test, my moment of faith.
And how will I fare? Only Time will tell...

 

Signing off,

Tyrone