KyKingdomKum

There are moments in life where we recognize God through what we survived. The fire. The flood. The wilderness. The heartbreak. The prison. The failure. And rightly so. Isaiah 43:2 carries weight for those who have actually passed through something: “When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee… when thou walkest through the fire, thou shalt not be burned…” There is comfort in realizing that what should have consumed us did not. But what if that is only part of the story? Because Isaiah 43 does not begin with the fire. It begins with identity. “Fear not: for I have redeemed thee, I have called thee by thy name; thou art mine.” — Isaiah 43:1 The flood was not the revelation by itself. The greater revelation was why we were preserved in the first place. The waters did not create covenant. They revealed it. The fire did not make God decide we belonged to Him. The keeping revealed that He already claimed us. What we notice often tells only part of the story. We see survival...

There is something I’ve been recognizing over the last few days. Many believers are still trying to get God to move, still striving to become accepted, still attempting to fulfill through effort what Christ already fulfilled through His death and resurrection. We say, “It is finished,” but often live as though everything still depends on us finishing it. The New Testament does not teach us to strive toward what Christ accomplished. It teaches us to live from what He accomplished. From this side of the resurrection. From Kingdom side. From being raised with Christ. From our lives being hidden with God in Christ. From being seated together with Him in heavenly places. From the right hand of the Father, far above all principality and power. This changes everything. Because the posture is no longer: “How do I get God to move?” The posture becomes: “How do I live from what God has already revealed in Christ?” That is a completely different mindset. Many of us are still trying to approach Go...

Today, I had one of those moments. A memory surfaced— something from my past… something I’ve done… …and I cringed. Not lightly. Not casually. It hit me. The kind of memory that tries to come with a feeling— shame . The kind that whispers: “You really did that.” “Look at who you were.” “You don’t deserve another chance.” It came to pull me back. But It Didn’t Work Before I could sit in it… before I could agree with it… something rose up in me: 📖 Book of Ezekiel 36:31 “Then shall ye remember your own evil ways… and shall loathe yourselves…” That word stopped me: “Then…” Which means— this isn’t where the story starts. So I went back. Looking Back, I Didn’t Just See Me I saw Him. 📖 Ezekiel 36:21 “But I had pity for mine holy name…” A people who profaned His name. A people who failed. But God didn’t begin with their failure. He began with His name . And Then He Declared What He Would Do 📖 Ezekiel 36:25–30 I will cleanse you I will give you a new heart I will put My Spirit within you...

There’s a thought that continues to surface the more we grow in God: He is not becoming more complex. He is becoming more clear. What once felt layered, distant, and difficult to grasp begins to simplify. Not because we’ve lowered the standard— but because we’re beginning to see Him as He is. From the beginning, God’s approach has been consistent. In Genesis , He creates the heavens and the earth, fills it with life, and then gives it to man: Take care of this. Have dominion. There was no striving to earn it. No system to unlock it. It was given. Then comes Jesus. And with everything humanity had built—tradition, law layered with interpretation, conditions stacked on conditions—He says something that almost sounds too simple: “Believe.” Not perform. Not prove. Not qualify. Believe. And somewhere along the way, we’ve felt the need to add to it. “If…” “And…” “But…” As if simplicity couldn’t possibly carry something so significant. But what if that simplicity i...

There are moments when a truth doesn’t just sound good—it settles you. Lately, it’s been this: “You know me.” Not as a question. Not as a fear. But as a realization. We read in Deuteronomy 32:9: “For the LORD’s portion is His people; Jacob is the lot of His inheritance.” And if we’re honest, that’s hard to fully take in. We’re used to reaching for God as our inheritance. But here, God flips it: We are His. His portion. His inheritance. Known… and still chosen When David responds to God in 2 Samuel 7, after being promised an everlasting kingdom and a Father-son relationship, he says in awe: “You know Your servant.” And what’s striking is this: This is before Bathsheba. Before Uriah. Before plotting Uriah’s murder and having him killed. David isn’t speaking from a place of recovery— he’s speaking from revelation. “You know me… not just who I am, but who I will be—what I will do… and You still said that. You still promised. You still committed to being my Father and establishing my king...