KyKingdomKum

I grew up in a public housing project. What I saw around me became what I expected for my life. I expected to die young. I accepted that I would probably go to jail every couple years, for a couple years.  While that isn’t much of a vision, it was what I saw for my life. It made sense to me because it was what I saw. Then I found myself in jail again—for the third time in three years. But this time was different. This time I was facing a life sentence. You can do a couple years over and over. You can’t keep doing twenty-five year sentences.  And suddenly the future I thought I understood was gone. The outcome I was facing exceeded what I expected. So I began examining things. My life. My choices. What I believed about myself and what I believed about God. And slowly, a different vision began to emerge—one based on hope and purpose and possibility. That’s when the words of Jesus stood out to me: “All things are possible to those who believe.” So I began to believe. I began to d...

I was talking with my mom the other day about how often Scripture says things that people already say in the “secular” world—just in a different language. And it struck me: The issue isn’t that people don’t believe biblical truth. It’s that the language has been hijacked. Over time, biblical words have become religious code. Insider language. Words that mean something , but don’t always reach where they should. Not because the truth is weak—but because the translation is off. Every time that happens, truth stays locked behind vocabulary instead of being released into life. Same truth. Different language. Take Genesis for example. God blesses humanity and says, “Be fruitful.” Most of us have heard that so often we don’t stop to ask what it actually means. But “be fruitful” isn’t a task—it’s a condition. To be full of fruit . Alive. Overflowing. Fast forward to the New Testament and Paul talks about being full of the Spirit , and about the fruit of the Spirit . Same reality. Different l...

There’s a question Jesus asks in Luke 12 that has been sitting with me for days now. It’s not loud. It’s not dramatic. But it’s weighty. He says that when people see clouds rising in the west, they know rain is coming. When a certain wind blows, they know heat is on the way. Those things happen—and no one argues with them. They’ve learned to read the signs. Then He says something that feels less like a rebuke and more like a sorrowful observation: “You know how to interpret the appearance of the earth and the sky. How is it that you do not know how to interpret this time?” That question hasn’t felt accusatory to me. It’s felt invitational. Like Jesus is saying, “You already know how this works. You’ve been doing it all along. What if the same kind of seeing applies here too?” Seeing Before Arriving There’s another question like this in Isaiah: “Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?” That verse has always stood out to me—not because of the new thi...

This thought started simply. Jesus Christ and Him crucified. At first glance, we often talk about the cross as restoration— bringing us back to God, repairing what was broken when man fell from the image in which he was created. But as I sat with it, something began to open up. What if the cross didn’t just restore God’s intention… what if it secured it? When God created man in His image, His desire was never fragile. The fall didn’t surprise Him. Redemption wasn’t a reaction. Jesus didn’t come to patch a mistake— He came to fulfill and establish what God intended from the beginning. That’s why Paul says he resolved to know nothing except Jesus Christ and Him crucified . Not because it’s elementary—but because it’s central. It’s the point where everything locks into place. Jesus didn’t just die and rise— He sat down at the right hand of the Father. Forever. That posture matters. It means the work is finished. It means the position is secure. It means what God purposed for humanity ...