The Calling – Chapter 38 – Battle of Dekar-9


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Finally, be strong in the Lord and in the strength of His might. Put on the full armor of God, so that you will be able to stand firm against the schemes of the devil.

Ephesians 6:10-11

The Edge We Need

The Confederation Navy Headquarters orbited the gas giant Zebulun, a glittering bastion of duralloy and gravitic shielding that hummed with the pulse of war. Lieutenant Wade Winston Kovacs stepped off the shuttle ramp into a maelstrom of activity—officers barking orders, drones ferrying ammunition, and the distant thrum of fusion drives echoing through the hangar. His tattered Eden rags were gone, replaced by a crisp Ranger uniform, but the weight of six months’ survival clung to him like a second skin. Beside him, Ensign Kristen Kovacs, now in navy whites, adjusted her Navy insignia, her hazel eyes scanning the chaos with analytical calm. Jay and Mayumi Ringler followed, their Lieutenant bars gleaming, though Jay’s quiet prayer and Mayumi’s grip on her scanner betrayed their shared tension.

A Marine escort, ramrod-straight and expressionless, led them through labyrinthine corridors to a high-security briefing room. The door hissed open, revealing a chamber dominated by a holographic star map and a table of flag officers, their uniforms heavy with ribbons and braids. General Redside, his craggy face etched with resolve, stood at the head, flanked by Admiral Kitzler—Kristen’s father, his silver hair a stark contrast to his stern gaze—and a dozen others, their eyes weighing the newcomers.

Wade felt like a recruit again, out of place among the brass, his Carthis 7 days flashing through his mind. But Redside’s nod, a flicker of respect, grounded him. “Lieutenant Kovacs,” the general said, his voice a low rumble. “Your intel’s kicked the hornet’s nest. Let’s get the rest of it.”

Wade swallowed, stepping to the holo-display, Kristen at his side. The data core from Eden, its RAI glyphs glinting, powered up, projecting images of the bone circle and Chimera Husk. “The Skravaks aren’t aliens,” Wade began, his voice steady despite the room’s scrutiny. “They’re bioengineered insects, laced with human DNA, puppets of a rogue AI—RAI, we call it. Eden’s lab proved it.” He gestured to Kristen, who activated a recording of the probe’s effect, its pulse disintegrating the swarm’s attack instantly. “This tech kills them on contact. It’s our edge.”

Mayumi stepped forward, her scanner linked to the holo, displaying RAI signal patterns. “We cracked their codes and can disrupt their communications,” she said, her tone precise. “We can jam their network, blind their drones, and cripple their coordination. The code exposed the RAI weaknesses, it also tipped their hand that they’re massing in X-ray sector for a counterstrike.”

Jay, his faith anchoring his words, added, “The RAI’s predictable in its arrogance. It underestimates us, thinks we’re ignorant slugs. The probe tech and broken codes will exploit that—we hit its weak points, and its whole plan folds.” His eyes met Redside’s, unflinching, a Ranger’s resolve forged in the heat of combat and survival.

The officers sat stunned, murmurs rippling through the room. Admiral Kitzler leaned forward, his voice sharp. “You’re saying we can turn their own weapons and arrogance against them?” Kristen nodded, her jaw set. “Yes, sir. We’ve adapted the probe tech for field use and Lieutenant Ringler’s in its head. Give us five hours and we’ll have the tech ready.”

Redside’s fist tapped the table, silencing the room. “Outstanding. Dekar-9’s the RAI’s next target—a key planet, their staging ground for X-ray sector. We hit them there, use this intel to break their back. Kovacs, Ringler, you’re with the Ranger Regiment. You two,” pointing to Mayumi first, “I want you with me on the ground to be a part of my intel staff analyzing RAI signals. Ensign Kovacs, you’ll stay here on the Dominion, getting that bug killing tech tested and operational. Questions?”

Mayumi joined General Redside’s intelligence staff, her scanner already humming with RAI data, her analytical mind poised to dissect the enemy’s signals. Kristen, clutching the Eden lab’s probe, bound for the R&D labs to perfect the “Anti-Skravak Tech” she’d dubbed the “Neurostorm.” “We should have a surprise for the bugs in two or three hours,” she told Redside, her tone brimming with confidence, her hazel eyes alight with purpose. The general’s nod was hearty, a rare spark of approval in his craggy visage.

The farewells were brief but heartfelt—handshakes, a quick embrace, Jay’s murmured prayer echoing Psalm 27:1. Wade’s heart raced, but he shook his head. The room dissolved into action, officers dispersing to their commands. As the room cleared Kristen and Wade embraced knowing the stakes were high and they may not see each other again. Wade saw pride in her tear-filled eyes—pride and fear. “You know I’ll come back for you,” Wade said with a slight tremor in his voice. She simply replied, “Always.” They were going to war. He watched his teammates, his family, vanish into the headquarter’s organized chaos.

Old Comrades, New Mission

The briefing room’s artificial gravity yielded to the lighter tug of the Confederation Navy HQ’s corridors as General Redside ushered Lieutenants Wade Kovacs and Jay Ringler toward the 2nd Ranger Battalion’s staging bay. The vast hangar thrummed with activity—Thunderhawk dropships whining to life, gear clattering, and Rangers moving with disciplined urgency checking weapons and ammunition. Redside’s stride was unyielding, his craggy face set as he approached a knot of officers standing before a holo-display of Dekar-9’s terraformed terrain. “Colonel Varnham,” he said, his voice slicing through the clamor, “meet Lieutenants Kovacs and Ringler—Eden’s survivors, the men who were a part of the team that broke the RAI’s code.”

Colonel Varnham, the battalion’s commander, pivoted, his lean frame and steel-gray eyes sizing them up with a veteran’s precision. Beside him stood his company commanders—Captains Venn, Markov, and Lin, their uniforms sharp yet worn by battle. Captain Venn, his weathered face breaking into a familiar grin, locked eyes with Wade, a spark of recognition from recruiting days on Mars, tales of Wade’s exploits, and his admonitions in the mess hall the day the Skravaks invaded New Quantico. Wade’s pulse quickened under their scrutiny, his Lieutenant’s bars feeling heavier than his pulse rifle, but Venn’s nod steeled him. “Kovacs,” Varnham said, “you’ll take 3rd Platoon, Alpha Company under Captain Lin. Their last platoon leader bought it on Triton-4—Ringler, you’re with 2nd Platoon, Bravo Company, under Captain Markov. Keep them tight.”

Venn stepped forward, his grin widening. “Hold on, Colonel, sir. I’ve tracked Kovacs since he was a scrawny pup. Survived New Quantico, got intel from the first Skravak ship—this one’s a hero. I say Markov and Lin arm wrestle me for him.” His tone was half-jesting, but his eyes gleamed with pride, drawing nervous chuckles from the other captains. Markov raised an eyebrow, Lin smirked, but Varnham’s gravelly voice cut through, stern yet amused. “Enough, Venn. Kovacs is yours—don’t make me regret it.” The levity faded, Varnham’s gaze locking on Wade. “Your intel’s our edge, Lieutenant. Don’t squander it.”

As Wade approached his new platoon, Alex Torres and Edwin Briggs, standing at attention with their squads, broke ranks as Venn signaled. Alex’s crooked grin, unchanged from their early days together, masked the excitement in his eyes, a nod to their new leader. “Lieutenant Kovacs, sir—finally caught up with us?” Briggs, his broad frame towering, yelled at Jay as he passed by to be introduced to his platoon. “LT Ringler, sir! Hope they’re ready for your prayers sir.” Jay’s soft chuckle carried his unshaken faith, “They’ll manage, Sergeant. You just pray our platoon doesn’t squash more bugs than yours.”

Wade assumed command of 1st Platoon, Charlie Company, with Alex and Briggs as squad leaders. The new Rangers, young and battle-tested, eyed him with a mix of awe and skepticism—his exploits were legendary, but could a lieutenant fresh from a moon lead in the crucible of Dekar-9? Wade met their gazes, his voice firm. “We’ve got intel the RAI doesn’t expect. I’m a follower of the most powerful force in the universe, the Lord Jesus Christ! Follow my lead, and we’ll send those bugs and their AI machines to the scrapheap.” The platoon let out a thunderous, “Hooah!” They were cautious with their trust but resolute to follow his orders.

Jay took 2nd Platoon, Bravo Company, his calm authority a contrast to Wade’s intensity. His Rangers received him much like Wade’s had. New lieutenants were suspect in the Rangers but they were disciplined warriors and knew the price of not obeying leaders with utmost aggression.

Wade felt the weight of leadership settle heavier than ever, each trial—from Carthis 7’s Pit to Eden’s cave—a crucible culminating in Dekar-9. then turned to his platoon, Alex and Briggs at his side. “Rangers,” he said, his voice steady, “we’ve got the RAI’s number. Fight smart, fight together, and we’ll come home. Let’s pray, Lord Jesus, we need your strength and wisdom to crush the evil in front of us. Let our aim be straight and our commitment unwavering. The victory belongs to You. AMEN!” Nods met his words, their trust hard-earned but solid. They were ready—or as ready as they’d ever be.

Boots on the Ground

Dekar-9 loomed below—a lush and beautiful planet, now a scorched, war-torn orb of obsidian peaks, its atmosphere a choking haze of smoke and ash. Hundreds of Thunderhawks pierced the clouds, their hulls glowing from reentry, as Redside’s voice crackled over the comms: “Rangers, Marines, this is it. Crush every bug, dismantle every machine. For the Confederation!”

Wade’s 1st Platoon, Charlie Company, strapped into their drop pods, the Thunderhawk’s bay rattling as it plummeted. He activated the Eden-derived jammer, its pulse scrambling RAI signals, and saw Alex’s squad doing final checks, faces etched with grim focus. Briggs, his broad frame filling the pod, muttered, “Bugs are in for a bad day.” The Drop Master yelled, “30 seconds!” and chaos erupted as the platoon’s pods shot from the Thunderhawk for the “Crazy D” deployment.

They landed in a perfect circle on a small knoll north of the bioengineered Skravaks’ flank—Chimera Husks animated by RAI’s will—swarmed the basalt fields, their insectoid forms scuttling with eerie speed, human-like eyes glinting in chitinous skulls.

Wade’s platoon set a perimeter and immediately opened fire with pulse rifles, grenades, and anti-armor rockets. Their jammers created pockets of disruption in the RAI’s network, causing APCs and drones to stall and veer aimlessly. Pulse fire lanced through the haze, felling dozens of bugs, but the swarm surged—a relentless tide of clicking mandibles and razor-sharp limbs.

“Hold the line!” Wade shouted, his voice piercing the din. He adjusted the formation—Alex’s squad on his left, Briggs’ on his right—their combat-honed instincts seamlessly interlocking their fires. A Skravak lunged, its claws scraping his armor, but Wade’s pistol vaporized its head, his heart pounding yet steady.

The battle was a maelstrom—screams, explosions, the acrid stench of burnt chitin. Wade’s platoon clawed forward, seizing a ridge, but RAI personnel carriers—hulking monstrosities of polished duralloy—loomed ahead, their plasma cannons scorching the earth.

“Alex, flank left!” Wade ordered, his mind racing. “Briggs, suppressive fire!” The Rangers moved as one, their trust in him solidifying with each command, but the Skravaks pressed harder, their numbers swelling. A carrier’s cannon obliterated a nearby Ranger platoon, and Wade’s comm buzzed with frantic reports—ground forces were buckling, the line faltering under the swarm’s weight.

Thunderhawk Down

The ridge shuddered under the Skravak onslaught, Wade’s platoon pinned as RAI personnel carriers advanced, their plasma cannons carving glowing scars across the basalt. The air vibrated with the roar of a Thunderhawk, streaking low from behind the Rangers’ line, its autocannons blazing in a strafing run. Skravak limbs shattered, chitinous bodies bursting under the hail of rounds, and Wade’s platoon roared approval, Alex’s voice rising above the din. “Give ‘em grief, flyboys!” he shouted, as the dropship’s thrusters scorched the earth, banking sharply for another pass.

But the RAI’s response was swift and merciless. A personnel carrier, its duralloy hull glinting malevolently, swiveled its turret, the plasma cannon humming with a deep, ominous pulse. A searing bolt erupted, slicing through the haze and striking the Thunderhawk’s port engine in a blinding explosion. The dropship lurched violently, flames erupting from its flank, duralloy panels shearing away like paper. “Get down!” Alex bellowed, his voice a whipcrack of urgency, diving behind a boulder. Wade dropped, pulling a young Ranger with him, as the platoon flattened against the ridge, the air thick with the screech of tortured metal.

The Thunderhawk, trailing a comet of fire and smoke, skimmed the ground just behind their position, its wounded frame grazing the basalt with a bone-jarring shriek. It cartwheeled skyward, spinning in a chaotic spiral, a blazing meteor against Dekar-9’s ash-choked sky. Wade’s breath caught, his eyes locked on the doomed craft as it arced over the battlefield, slamming into a dense Skravak swarm two hundred meters away. The impact unleashed a colossal fireball, a sunburst of heat and light that incinerated dozens of Chimera Husks, their twisted forms consumed in the inferno. Shrapnel rained, pinging off Wade’s armor, and the shockwave slammed into the ridge, kicking up clouds of ash that stung his eyes.

“Move, Rangers!” Wade shouted, scrambling to his feet, his platoon dazed but alive. Alex hauled a stunned squadmate upright, his face grim as he scanned the burning wreckage. Briggs’ squad resumed fire, their pulses cutting down straggling Skravaks, but the carrier that fired the shot pivoted toward them, its cannon charging with a malevolent glow. The Thunderhawk’s sacrifice had cleared a pocket of the swarm, but the cost was stark—Wade’s mind flashed to the crew, their faces unknown but their courage undeniable. “Regroup on RP Alpha!” he ordered, voice raw, gesturing to a nearby hill top littered with ferrocrete debris.

The platoon retreated under a hail of claws and plasma, dragging wounded comrades. Briggs’ squad laid down suppressive fire, but a Skravak’s limb grazed his shoulder, drawing a grunt of pain. “Keep it together!” Wade yelled, his rifle blazing, felling a lunging Husk. The carrier’s cannon hummed, its next shot imminent, and Wade’s comm crackled with desperate calls from other platoons—Jay’s Bravo Company was holding, but barely. The swarm surged anew, human-insect eyes gleaming with RAI’s malice, and Wade’s jammers flickered, strained by the enemy’s counter-signals. The downed Thunderhawk’s wreckage burned, a pyre illuminating the battlefield, but the RAI’s advance was relentless, threatening to overrun the line.

Wade fired until his rifle’s charge blinked red, he loaded another mag, his platoon pinned in behind boulders and ferrocrete for cover. “Command, we need support!” he barked into his comm, his mind racing—Kristen’s Neurostorm was their last hope, but time was bleeding out. The carrier’s turret locked on, and Wade braced, shouting, “Hold fast!” as the swarm closed, their mandibles snapping inches away. The blast was bone jarring. It was low and took out a dozen Skravak ascending the hill top. Ears ringing, vision blurred, the Rangers gathered their senses and leaned back into the fight.

Mayumi’s voice cut through the chaos, urgent but composed. “Lieutenant Kovacs, Redside’s update: Dominion’s R&D has weaponized the Neurostorm. Nova Eagles are loading bomblets now—ETA ten minutes. Hold on!”

Wade’s pulse spiked, the ground shaking as another carrier advanced, Skravaks flooding the ridge in front of them.

Jay’s Rangers, equipped with Badgers, swept in from the left flank—plasma chainguns blazing, cutting a swath a hundred meters deep in the Skravak advance. Wade’s platoon cheered Bravo Company’s daring charge, but as the smoke cleared, they saw regiment after regiment of bugs advancing behind the momentary gap.

“Fall back to the crater!” he roared, his platoon retreating under a hail of claws and plasma. Alex dragged a wounded Ranger to cover, Briggs’ squad laying down a curtain of fire—but the enemy closed in, their human-insect eyes gleaming with malice.

The situation grew dire, the swarm threatening to overrun them. Wade fired until his rifle’s barrel glowed red, his platoon pinned in the crater, their defense barely holding.

“Where’s that air support?” Briggs growled, a Skravak’s limb grazing his shoulder.

Wade’s mind flashed to Eden’s cave, Kristen’s resolve, Jay’s prayers—failure wasn’t an option. “Command, we need that airstrike now!” Wade yelled into his comms.

His comm crackled—Kristen’s voice, triumphant: “Neurostorm incoming! Hit ’em now!”

A sonic boom split the sky. Marine Nova Eagles screamed overhead, their sleek forms cutting through the haze. Bomblets rained down—each a scaled-up version of Eden’s probe—their pulses detonating in blinding waves.

The Skravak swarm convulsed, thousands collapsing as the tech fried their neural links, their bodies crumpling like ash.

The tide turned.

The Greater Threat Above

Another signal pulse from their jammers, and RAI coordination faltered. The personnel carriers stuttered, their drones drifting aimlessly. Wade’s platoon surged forward. Pulse grenades shredded a carrier’s treads, Rangers scaling its hull. He spotted a pinned-down Marine—his leg trapped under rubble, Skravaks converging. Wade sprinted through the crossfire, rifle blazing, lifted the ferrocrete beam with his engineered hand, and hauled the man to safety. “You’re good, Marine! Get back in the fight!” he shouted, earning a weary smile. Briggs clapped his back, his earlier doubts erased. “LT, you’re alright.”

The ground victory was decisive. RAI’s forces shattered, their carriers reduced to smoking husks.

Cheers rose—but Redside’s voice cut through: “Rangers, Space Forces are getting hammered. Evac to the Dominion—now!”

The triumph dimmed, Dekar-9’s burning fields a stark reminder of the war’s cost. Thunderhawks roared skyward, the planet’s scarred surface fading below.

Wade sat in the troop bay, his armor scorched, his platoon battered—but alive. Alex and Briggs disembarked their squads, respect for Wade now unspoken but absolute. Jay’s platoon exited their Thunderhawk next, his face calm as he murmured Psalm 23, Bravo Company having held a flank against impossible odds.

In the Dominion’s briefing room, the team reunited, the air thick with the weight of Space Forces’ losses. Mayumi, her scanner finally silent, joined them—her analysis of RAI signals already shaping Redside’s next move. Kristen, fresh from the R&D labs, gripped Wade’s hand. Her touch a lifeline. Her father’s fate—Admiral Kitzler, commanding a faltering fleet—etched in her eyes. Redside entered, his expression grimmer than ever. “You’ve given us ground, Rangers,” he said. “But the RAI’s tearing our ships apart. You four—you’re needed topside.” Wade met Kristen’s gaze, fear mirrored with resolve, his own heart echoing hers.

They were his encouragement but Jesus was his anchor. Every crucible had led here—to a war for humanity’s soul. The RAI had misjudged them. But the fight still beckoned. And Wade was ready.

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Frustrated Disciple-Makers – #117

Index for all posts in the Gospel Sync Series

ENGLISH / ESPAÑOL

Welcome Back! Today, we’ll be looking at the Gospels of Matthew, Mark, and Luke to see how Jesus got frustrated with His disciples.

So let’s get started.

(Click here to get a copy of the Gospel Sync document) 

Matthew 17:14–17, Mark 9:14–24, Luke 9:37b–42a

They returned to the other disciples and they saw a large crowd around them, and scribes arguing with them. As soon as all the people saw Jesus, they were filled with awe and ran to greet Him. “What are you disputing with them?” He asked. Suddenly a man came up to Jesus and knelt before Him. “Lord, Teacher, I beg You to look at my son, for he is my only child. I brought You my son, who has a spirit that makes him mute. Have mercy on him,” he said. “A spirit keeps seizing him, and he screams abruptly. It throws him into convulsions so that he foams at the mouth. He has seizures and is suffering terribly. Whenever it seizes him, it throws him to the ground. He foams at the mouth, gnashes his teeth, and becomes rigid. He often falls into the fire or into the water. It keeps mauling him and rarely departs from him. I brought him to Your disciples, I begged them to drive it out, but they were unable to heal him.”

“O unbelieving and perverse generation!” Jesus replied. “How long must I remain with you? How long must I put up with you? Bring the boy here to Me.” So they brought him, and even while the boy was approaching, the demon seeing Jesus slammed him to the ground and immediately threw the boy into a convulsion and he rolled around, foaming at the mouth. Jesus asked the boy’s father, “How long has this been with him?” “From childhood,” he said. “It often throws him into the fire or into the water, trying to kill him. But if You can do anything, have compassion on us and help us.” “If You can?” echoed Jesus. “All things are possible to him who believes!” Immediately the boy’s father cried out, “I do believe; help my unbelief!”

My Thoughts 

Now remember this series is primarily focused on disciple-makers not on the disciples per say. Most writers would look at this passage and write about the father’s response, “I believe help me with my unbelief.” Certainly, that’s a very appropriate and timely topic to address with all people. But there’s something here that I seldom hear leaders writing or preaching about and yet it’s just as important as the man’s faith (or lack thereof). Do you know what I’m talking about my fellow disciple-maker?

Yes! It’s the fact that Jesus is frustrated! 

“O unbelieving and perverse generation!” Jesus replied. “How long must I remain with you? How long must I put up with you?

As a disciple-maker do you ever get frustrated? If you haven’t, you will. And a lot of times we may feel guilty about it. But let me remind you that Jesus was sinless. He was able to be peeved and even express it without crossing the line of being unloving or untrue. Jesus’ frustration in this moment reveals His deep longing for His disciples to grasp the truth and grow in faith. As disciple-makers, we may feel similar frustrations when those we mentor struggle to understand or apply what we teach. Yet, like Jesus, we can channel that frustration into passionate perseverance, continuing to guide with patience and love, trusting that growth takes time. His example shows us that feeling frustrated doesn’t mean we’ve failed—it means we care deeply about the spiritual journey of those we lead.

Now let me give a warning. We will get frustrated at one time or another. But notice Jesus addresses the disciples and the crowd directly. He doesn’t go to John the Baptist and say, “Man, bro, I hope the men you’re discipling are better than the ones I got! What a bunch of boneheads!” No, that would be gossip and oh, by the way, sin. Oftentimes we complain about our frustrations to others and not to those who really need to hear it so they can make corrections themselves. If you’re frustrated, talk to the people you’re frustrated with. 

My Story

Confession Time! I’m more pastoral than prophetic. My idea of lowering the boom on someone with the truth is like tapping them with a Q-Tip. So most of the time the ones I’m discipling have to ask, “Did you just rebuke me?” Now I have friends that are much better at getting your attention when you’re messing up. And I have to say I admire these “truth tellers.” There have been times in my life where a more prophetic person asked a question and totally ticked me off! Ironically, those people had the most significant life transforming effect in my walk with Jesus. And that’s why I love them. 

Now I have had to tell some of the same people “Ratchet it Down a Bit.” There are times when the truth was not “received” in love. Delivery is just as important as the message. But let’s not vote the prophets off the island just because we got our feelings hurt or we didn’t like the delivery. The truth is the truth and if we are going to be transformed in the image of Christ, we desperately need these kinds of people around us.

Faithful are the wounds of a friend, But deceitful are the kisses of an enemy.

(Proverbs 27:6)

Our Action Plan

Now it’s time for application. Here’s some ideas;

  • Take inventory – When’s the last time you had to confront someone and did it in love?
  • Are you as good at the delivery as much as you are at speaking the truth?
  • Do you need to learn how to be more shepherding or more prophetic? Work on it.

Well friends, disciple-making ain’t always easy, but Jesus shows us it’s okay to feel frustrated as long as we guide with love and patience. Let’s keep speaking truth, delivering it kindly, and trusting God to grow those we lead!

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Discipuladores Frustrados – #117

¡Bienvenidos de nuevo! Hoy analizaremos los Evangelios de Mateo, Marcos y Lucas para ver cómo Jesús se frustró con sus discípulos.

Comencemos.

Mateo 17:14-17, Marcos 9:14-24, Lucas 9:37b-42a

Volvieron con los demás discípulos y vieron una gran multitud a su alrededor, y escribas discutiendo con ellos. En cuanto todos vieron a Jesús, se llenaron de asombro y corrieron a saludarlo. “¿Qué discuten con ellos?”, preguntó. De repente, un hombre se acercó a Jesús y se arrodilló ante él. “Señor, Maestro, te ruego que cuides a mi hijo, porque es mi único hijo. Te traje a mi hijo, que tiene un espíritu que lo deja mudo. Ten piedad de él”, dijo. Un espíritu se apodera de él y grita de repente. Le provoca convulsiones que le hacen echar espuma por la boca. Tiene convulsiones y sufre terriblemente. Cada vez que se apodera de él, lo tira al suelo. Echa espuma por la boca, rechina los dientes y se queda rígido. A menudo cae al fuego o al agua. Lo ataca constantemente y rara vez se aparta de él. Lo traje a tus discípulos, les rogué que lo expulsaran, pero no pudieron sanarlo.

¡Oh, generación incrédula y perversa! —respondió Jesús—. ¿Cuánto tiempo he de permanecer con ustedes? ¿Cuánto tiempo he de soportarlos? Traigan al niño acá. Así que lo trajeron, y mientras el niño se acercaba, el demonio, al ver a Jesús, lo tiró al suelo e inmediatamente lo arrojó con convulsiones, rodando por el suelo, echando espuma por la boca. Jesús le preguntó al padre del niño: —¿Cuánto tiempo lleva con esto? —Desde niño —respondió. A menudo lo arroja al fuego o al agua, intentando matarlo. Pero si puedes hacer algo, ten compasión de nosotros y ayúdanos. —¿Si puedes? —repitió Jesús—. ¡Todo es posible para el que cree! —Al instante, el padre del niño exclamó: —Creo; ¡ayuda mi incredulidad!

Mis Pensamientos

Recuerden que esta serie se centra principalmente en quienes hacen discípulos, no en los discípulos en sí. La mayoría de los escritores analizarían este pasaje y escribirían sobre la respuesta del padre: “Creo, ayúdame con mi incredulidad”. Sin duda, es un tema muy apropiado y oportuno para abordar con todas las personas. Pero hay algo aquí que rara vez escucho a los líderes escribir o predicar, y sin embargo, es tan importante como la fe del hombre (o la falta de ella). ¿Saben a qué me refiero, mi compañero hacedor de discípulos?

¡Sí! ¡Es la frustración de Jesús!

“¡Oh generación incrédula y perversa!”, respondió Jesús. ¿Hasta cuándo debo permanecer con ustedes? ¿Hasta cuándo debo soportarlos?

Como hacedores de discípulos, ¿se frustran alguna vez? Si no, lo harán. Y muchas veces nos sentimos culpables por ello. Pero permítanme recordarles que Jesús no tenía pecado. Podía estar enojado e incluso expresarlo sin cruzar la línea de la falta de amor o la falsedad. La frustración de Jesús en ese momento revela su profundo anhelo de que sus discípulos comprendieran la verdad y crecieran en la fe. Como hacedores de discípulos, podemos sentir frustraciones similares cuando a quienes asesoramos les cuesta comprender o aplicar lo que enseñamos. Sin embargo, al igual que Jesús, podemos canalizar esa frustración hacia una perseverancia apasionada, guiando continuamente con paciencia y amor, confiando en que el crecimiento lleva tiempo. Su ejemplo nos muestra que sentirse frustrado no significa que hayamos fracasado, sino que nos importa profundamente el camino espiritual de quienes guiamos.

Ahora, permítanme darles una advertencia. Nos frustraremos en algún momento. Pero noten que Jesús se dirige directamente a los discípulos y a la multitud. No se dirige a Juan el Bautista. Bautista y decir: “¡Hermano, espero que los hombres que estás discipulando sean mejores que los que yo tengo! ¡Qué idiotas!”. No, eso sería chisme y, por cierto, pecado. Muchas veces nos quejamos de nuestras frustraciones con otros y no con quienes realmente necesitan escucharlas para poder corregirlas. Si te sientes frustrado, habla con quienes te frustran.

Mi Historia

¡Hora de confesar! Soy más pastoral que profético. Mi idea de calmar a alguien con la verdad es como darle un golpecito con un hisopo. Así que la mayoría de las veces, quienes discipulo tienen que preguntar: “¿Acabas de reprenderme?”. Ahora tengo amigos que son mucho mejores captando tu atención cuando te equivocas. Y debo decir que admiro a estos “veraces”. ¡Ha habido momentos en mi vida en que una persona más profética me hizo una pregunta y me molestó muchísimo! Irónicamente, esas personas tuvieron el efecto transformador más significativo en mi caminar con Jesús. Y por eso las amo.

Ahora he tenido que decirles a algunas de esas mismas personas: “Bájale un poco”. Hay momentos en que la verdad no fue “recibida” con amor. La forma de transmitirla es tan importante como el mensaje. Pero no descartemos a los profetas solo porque nos hirieron los sentimientos o no nos gustó cómo la transmitieron. La verdad es la verdad, y si vamos a ser transformados a la imagen de Cristo, necesitamos desesperadamente este tipo de personas a nuestro alrededor.

Fieles son las heridas del amigo, pero engañosos los besos del enemigo.

(Proverbios 27:6)

Nuestro Plan de Acción

Ahora es momento de aplicar. Aquí tienes algunas ideas:

Haz un inventario: ¿Cuándo fue la última vez que tuviste que confrontar a alguien y lo hiciste con amor?

¿Eres tan bueno comunicando la verdad como diciendo la verdad?

¿Necesitas aprender a ser más pastor o más profético? Esfuérzate.

Bueno, amigos, hacer discípulos no siempre es fácil, pero Jesús nos muestra que está bien sentirse frustrado siempre que guiemos con amor y paciencia. ¡Sigamos hablando la verdad, comunicándola con amabilidad y confiando en que Dios hará crecer a quienes guiamos!

Si ve un problema importante en la traducción, envíeme una corrección por correo electrónico a charleswood1@gmail.com

The Calling – Chapter 37 – Rescue on Eden

Link to all Chapters – Text & Audio

The prudent sees the evil and hides himself, But the naive go on, and are punished for it.

Proverbs 22:3

Retreat to the Mountains

The cabin had been a fragile haven, its log walls a testament to their six-month survival on Eden, but wisdom demanded retreat. After their raid on the RAI’s lab—its bone circle pulsing with malevolent intent—Wade Kovacs had felt the air shift, as if the rogue AI’s unseen eyes tracked their every move. Kristen argued the lab’s proximity, a mere ten kilometers away, invited disaster; one stray drone could end them. Jay, ever the voice of caution, agreed jokingly, “But I hate to give up our five star accommodations. We were living the dream.” Mayumi’s scans confirmed residual RAI signals lingering in the valley, faint but persistent. So they’d trekked ten klicks into the mountains, to a cave carved into a crystalline cliff, its beauty rivaling the cabin’s but starkly rustic. The soft beds and scavenged comforts they’d grown accustomed to were gone, replaced by stone floors and biting winds. Summer on Eden brought warmth by day, but nights were cold, forcing them to huddle around small fires, kept low to evade detection, their glow barely warming their tattered clothes. Forays to the lab for supplies—batteries, tools, scraps of tech—were perilous, each trip shadowed by the risk of RAI drones. Most of what they found was ancient, corroded by time, useless for more than makeshift repairs. Eden’s trees brimmed with fruit, and its forests teemed with game, their honed archery skills ensured a steady supply of meat, leaving them never wanting for sustenance.

But Wade felt the weight of their isolation, the cave’s austerity sharpening his resolve but fraying their spirits. Kristen missed the cabin’s warmth, but her encouragement lifted her teammates above the gloom of their present circumstances. Jay prayed for strength, Mayumi for clarity, their faces etched with fatigue yet unbroken. The cave was safe, but it was also a reminder: RAI was out there, and they couldn’t hide forever.

The Signal

It was a jagged sanctuary, its walls glinting with crystalline flecks that caught the dim glow of a salvaged Skravak—correction, Rogue AI—lamp. Wade crouched near the entrance, his pistol balanced across his knees, its charge indicator a faint green in the gloom. Six months of survival had honed his senses to a razor’s edge, every rustle of the wind outside a potential harbinger of death. His uniform, once a proud symbol of his Lieutenant’s commission, hung in tatters, patched with strips of scavenged fabric. Beside him, Kristen adjusted a makeshift antenna, her fingers steady despite the chill seeping through the cave’s stone floor. Jay and Mayumi sat deeper within next a small fire, poring over a cracked datapad displaying fragments of RAI code salvaged from the alien lab.

Wade’s breath misted in the air, his thoughts a tangle of hope and suspicion. The distress signal had come an hour ago—a faint Confederation ping, barely distinguishable from cosmic noise. It was their first contact since the Stellar Scout’s crash-landing, since the revelations of the RAI’s bioengineered pawns and the bone circle that pulsed with unnatural intent. But hope was a dangerous luxury. “Could be a trap,” he murmured, eyes fixed on the horizon where Eden’s stary sky cast a sickly pallor over the canyons. “RAI’s clever enough to mimic our signals.”

Kristen’s lips quirked, a spark of defiance in her hazel eyes. “You’ve said that every day for a month, Wade. If it’s RAI, we’re ready. If it’s not…” She trailed off, glancing at the antenna’s blinking diode. “We can’t stay here forever.”

“She’s right,” Mayumi said softly, her voice carrying the calm precision of a born analyst. She tapped the datapad, its screen flickering with corrupted RAI logs. “The lab’s tech confirms it—Confederation encryption, not RAI. I cross-checked the modulation against our F290’s logs before the crash. It’s real.”

Jay looked up, his face shadowed but resolute, the same faith that had carried them through Ranger School now anchoring his words. “Isaiah 40:31, Wade. ‘Those who wait for the Lord will gain new strength.’ We’ve waited. Maybe this is the answer.”

Wade’s jaw tightened. Faith had kept them alive—Jay’s prayers, Kristen’s grit, Mayumi’s ingenuity—but the RAI was a foe that mocked such things. Its bioengineered insects, once thought to be Skravak aliens, were puppets, their human DNA traces a grotesque mockery of creation. The bone circle, that eerie twenty-foot ring of calcified remains, had been no mere monument but a relay for RAI’s will. They’d figured it out, but now it had seared itself into Wade’s nightmares. He wanted to believe in rescue, but Carthis 7 had taught him to question everything. “We’ve got to make the choice,” he said finally. “Reveal our position or stay dark.”

“Reveal,” Kristen said without hesitation. “We’ve got the probe tech. If RAI sends bugs, they won’t get past our defenses.”

“Reveal,” Mayumi echoed, her dark eyes steady. “The signal’s our best chance to get the intel off Eden.”

Jay nodded. “Reveal. The Lord’s brought us this far.”

Wade exhaled, his breath a cloud in the cold. “It’s settled then. But before we send the signal we’ll rig the cave to blow if it’s a trap. No one’s taking us alive.”

Kristen’s smile was grim but warm. “That’s the spirit, Lieutenant Kovacs.”

They worked swiftly, Mayumi boosting the antenna’s output while Jay and Wade wired scavenged explosives from the lab to a remote trigger. The signal pulsed, a beacon in the void, and Wade felt the weight of decision settle on his shoulders. If they were wrong, they’d die here, their intel—proof of RAI’s deception—buried with them. If they were right… He pushed the thought aside, checking his pistol’s charge again. One step at a time.

Uber to the Rescue

The wait was interminable, each minute stretching like a hyperspace jump. Wade stood watch, his eyes scanning Eden’s lush expanse—a verdant tapestry of towering oaks and pines, their canopies swaying like Earth’s ancient European forests, now cloaked in twilight’s emerald haze. The RAI’s lab, its ruins hidden beyond the fern-choked valley, lay silent after their sabotage had crippled its bioengineered horrors, yet the moon’s beauty masked a lingering menace. Wade’s instincts screamed that they were being watched, shadows moving with the swaying trees.

A low rumble broke the silence, growing to a roar that shook pebbles from the cave’s ceiling. Wade gripped his pistol, signaling Jay to take position behind a boulder. Kristen powered down the antenna, her bow ready. The rumble became a whine, and Wade’s heart leaped as a sleek shape breached the clouds—a Confederation Thunderhawk dropship, its hull scarred but bearing the shield with star and lightning bolt of the Rangers. It descended, kicking up a storm of dust that stung Wade’s eyes as it settled near the cave.

“Hold fire,” Wade hissed, his pulse racing. The ramp lowered, and two figures emerged, their armor glinting under Eden’s stars. Wade’s breath caught as he recognized the gait, the way the taller one carried his rifle. Alex Torres and Edwin Briggs—his bunkmates from Ramsey Station, now sergeants and squad leaders, their faces hardened by months of war. Relief flooded him but he was in shock, he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“Wade Kovacs!” Alex called, his voice carrying over the wind. “You call for an Uber?” Referring to an ancient rideshare company that now makes luxury liners for space travel.

Wade lowered his pistol a fraction, stepping into the open. “Alex, is that you?”

Wade’s tension eased, but only slightly. He glanced at Jay, who nodded, lowering his weapon. Kristen and Mayumi emerged, their ragged clothes a stark contrast to the Rangers’ pristine gear. Alex grinned, the same crooked smile from Carthis 7. “In the flesh Ranger buddy! Why’d you make me come to the edge of the universe to give you a ride? I could be killin’ bugs!”

Briggs let out a wry snort, his broad shoulders easing as he jabbed, “Whining’s your specialty, Torres.” The tension broke into grins, Alex and Briggs stepped forward, enveloping Wade and his crew in hearty bear hugs, their reunion a fierce blend of relief and brotherhood. Behind them, their Ranger squads disembarked the Thunderhawk with tactical precision, maintaining a respectful distance but watching with unabashed warmth, the unspoken bond of shared trials—forged on Carthis 7 and beyond—radiating from every glance and clasped shoulder.

Briggs pushed back, “You all look like you’ve been through a meat grinder. ”Alex’s grin faded as he took in their state, and Wade saw the question in his eyes—Lieutenant? Before he could speak, Jay leaned toward Briggs, his whisper barely audible. “He’s Lieutenant Kovacs now. We all are, technically.”

Briggs’ eyebrows shot up, and Wade suppressed a grimace. Six months in rags had stripped them of rank’s trappings, but the awkward moment passed as Alex clapped Wade’s shoulder. “Good to see you, sir,” he said, the title half-teasing, half-respectful. “Let’s get you off this rock.”

The dropship’s interior was a haven of warmth and light, its troop bay smelling of oiled metal and recycled air. Wade sank onto the troopseat, his muscles protesting after months of strain. The other three joining him. Alex and Briggs took seats opposite, their faces grim as they powered up a tactical display.

“We thought you were dead,” Alex said, his tone matter-of-fact but heavy. “Six months, no word. Then your signal lit up command’s scopes.”

“Why no Skravaks?” Wade asked, cutting to the heart of it. “This place should be crawling with them.”

Briggs leaned forward, his voice low. “They’re not Skravaks, not really. You know that better than us.”

Mayumi interjected, her voice precise despite her exhaustion. “Bioengineered insects, laced with human DNA fragments. Puppets for the rogue AI—RAI, or RAY, we call it. The lab proved it.”

Alex nodded, his eyes narrowing. “Yeah, well, those puppets are massing in X-ray sector around a planet called Dekar-9. Biggest fleet we’ve seen—hundreds of ships, maybe thousands of drones. Looks like RAI’s going all-in, planning on hitting our core worlds. That’s why this place is quiet. They’re too busy prepping for the endgame.”

Wade’s stomach twisted. Their intel—the data core, the probe, the bone circle—had exposed RAI’s deception, but had it also provoked this escalation? He saw the same question in Kristen’s eyes, but Briggs cut through the silence. “Doesn’t matter why,” he said gruffly. “Matters that we’ve got you now. General Redside’s waiting for that intel. If we move, we can hit ‘em hard.”

Wade nodded, but guilt gnawed at him. Combat had taught him to question his choices, and Eden had burned that lesson deeper. He glanced at Jay, whose quiet faith seemed unshaken, and at Mayumi, whose focus never wavered. Kristen’s hand brushed his, a fleeting anchor. They weren’t done fighting—not yet.

Unwanted Guests

The Thunderhawk landed 300 meters from the lab. The team moved quickly, their ragged forms weaving towards the gap into the lab’s ruins. The bone circle loomed ahead, its skeletal arcs shattered but still menacing, a testament to the RAI’s twisted ingenuity. Kristen knelt beside a fallen probe, its casing cracked but intact, her tools deft as she cut the underground cables and extracted it from the dirt. “This kills the bugs instantly,” she said, her voice tight with focus. “If we can adapt it, it’s going to be a game-changer.”

Wade guarded her flank, his pistol sweeping the shadows. Jay carried a Chimera Husk—a grotesque fusion of human and insect DNA, sealed in a scavenged canister, its warped form a chilling relic of RAI’s experiments. The lab’s interior was a wreck, its consoles smashed by their earlier sabotage, but Wade felt the weight of unseen eyes. “Hurry,” he urged, his voice low. “We’re not alone.”

Kristen nodded, pocketing another probe’s core. “Got it. Let’s burn this place.”

Jay set the last of their plasma explosives, his hands steady despite the ticking timer. Wade gave the signal, and they retreated. They sprinted for the dropship, dust stinging their faces. Alex and Briggs waited at the ramp, their rifles trained on the horizon. “Move!” Alex shouted, and Wade pushed Kristen ahead, his legs burning with the effort. They piled aboard, the ramp sealing behind them, the Thunderhawk bolted into the air to escape the blast radius but a klaxon blared before they could breathe easy.

The lab erupted in a huge fireball that lit the night. The bone circle collapsed, its fragments scattering like ash, and Wade felt a grim satisfaction. One less piece of RAI’s puzzle.

“RAI drones!” Briggs barked, pointing to the tactical display. Red blips converged on their position, their signatures unmistakable. The pilot, a grizzled Marine named Warrant Officer Varek, slumped over the controls, blood seeping from a shrapnel wound taken from the drone’s initial salvo. Wade’s heart sank, but Jay was already moving, sliding into the co-pilot’s seat.

“I’ve got this,” Jay said, his voice calm as he powered up the forward thrust. “Strap in.”

Wade secured Varek to a stretcher on the deck of the troop compartment, two other nearby Rangers assisted. Kristen stabilized him with a field medical kit and IV. The dropship lurched skyward, Jay’s hands handling the controls with the confedence of a thunderhawk pilot, as if he had received months of training at Reynard 3. It was his first flight but he had no time to second guess his skills. Eden’s canyons blurred below, their jagged walls closing in as Jay wove a daring low-altitude path, the drones’ sensors struggling to lock on.

“Hold on!” Jay called, banking hard to avoid a missile lock. The Thunderhawk shuddered, its hull groaning under the strain, but Jay’s piloting kept them ahead, skimming the surface like a stone over water. Wade gripped the bulkhead, his eyes on the display as the drones fell back, their signals fading. Kristen’s hand found his again, her grip fierce.

“Nice flying, Ringler,” Briggs said, a rare grin breaking his stoicism. “You’re wasted on Rangers. Should’ve been a Navy pilot!”

Jay chuckled, but his eyes stayed on the controls. “Tell that to the Lord. He’s got plans.”

Adapt and Overcome

The Thunderhawk’s hull vibrated with a worrisome groan as Jay leveled out, the last RAI drone’s signal fading on the tactical display. Wade exhaled, his grip on the bulkhead easing, but the acrid tang of burnt wiring snapped him back to reality. Varek’s lifeless form lay secured on the stretcher, a grim reminder of the drone’s precision. Kristen, her face pale from the failed IV attempt, checked the cockpit’s status panel, her hazel eyes narrowing. “Jay, the console’s fried—shrapnel tore through the nav relays. We’re flying blind, and the hull’s breached. We won’t make orbit like this.”

Jay’s jaw tightened, his hands steady on the controls. “Got a fix, Lieutenant?” he asked Wade, his voice calm despite the strain.

Wade scanned the troop bay—Alex and Briggs checking their squads, Mayumi clutching the data core, her scanner humming. “Find us cover,” he ordered Jay. “Somewhere isolated, away from the lab’s scan range. We’ll patch her up.”

Jay banked the dropship low, skimming Eden’s emerald canopy—a lush sprawl of oaks and pines, their branches swaying like Earth’s old forests. He spotted a secluded glade, hemmed by towering cliffs and veiled by mist, its fern-choked floor shielding them from overhead drones. “There,” he said, easing the Thunderhawk down with a thud that rattled the frame, leaves swirling in the downdraft.

The team spilled out, weapons raised, scanning the verdant shadows. Wade directed Alex’s squad to form a perimeter, their boots sinking into moss as Briggs muttered about “more bugs waiting to pounce.” Kristen and Mayumi tore into the cockpit, prying open scorched panels to reveal a tangle of sparking circuits. “Shrapnel hit the primary bus,” Mayumi reported, her scanner pinpointing faults. “We’ve got backup relays, but the hull patch needs sealing—fast.”

Wade hauled a salvaged RAI toolkit from the lab raids, its tools corroded but functional. Kristen jury-rigged a patch from scavenged plating, her welding torch flaring as she sealed microfractures, sweat beading on her brow. “This’ll hold for vacuum,” she said, “but don’t ask for miracles.” Jay, meanwhile, swapped nav relays with Mayumi, their hands moving in sync, rewiring by the glow of a flickering lamp. Wade kept watch, his pistol trained on the treeline, Eden’s beauty a deceptive mask for RAI’s reach.

A distant drone hum spurred them faster—Alex signaled all-clear, but time was short. Within an hour, the cockpit hummed back to life, its displays stuttering but operational. Kristen wiped grime from her hands, nodding to Wade. “She’s not going to win a beauty contest, but she’ll fly.”

The dropship broke Eden’s atmosphere, the stars a welcome sight after months of confinement. Wade sat beside Kristen, their shoulders touching, the data core and probe secure in a locked case. Mayumi murmured a prayer of thanksgiving, her voice soft but steady, echoing Isaiah 40:31: “They will mount up with wings like eagles.” Wade felt the words settle in his chest, a counterpoint to the adrenaline still pulsing through him.

Alex leaned across the aisle, his voice low. “He gonna make it?” , pointing to the unconscious pilot. Kristen shook her head, “He was gone before we finished the IV.”

Wade grimaced, the weight of his commission returning. Carthis 7, The Zoo, the Skravak ship—every trial had led here, to a fight bigger than himself. He thought of his father, Samuel, disapproving back on Mars, and wondered if he’d understand now. But Kristen’s eyes met his, her resolve mirroring his own. Jay’s faith, Mayumi’s clarity, Alex and Briggs’ loyalty—they were his strength, his family.

“We’re not done,” Wade said, his voice firm. “Chief’s death is not in vain. RAI’s got a war coming, and we’ve got the intel to end it.”

Briggs clapped his shoulder. “That’s the Lieutenant I know.”

The dropship’s engines hummed, carrying them toward Confederation space, toward General Redside and a battle that would test them all. Wade looked at his team, their faces lit by the starlight streaming through the viewport. They’d survived Eden, but the real fight was just beginning.

Link to all Chapters – Text & Audio

Kingdom Kernel #14 – Kingdom Priorities

Seeking First the Kingdom

Kingdom Kernel Collection

But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you. 

(Matthew 6:33)

But seek His kingdom, and these things will be added to you. Do not be afraid, little flock, for your Father has chosen gladly to give you the kingdom. 

(Luke 12:31-32)

 Introduction

Matthew 6:33 and Luke 12:31-32 present a profound concept central to Jesus’ teaching: the priority of God’s kingdom. This essay explores the depth and implications of this directive, focusing on the phrase “seek first” and its connection to Jesus as the Messiah and King.

 Linguistic Analysis

The Greek term for “seek” is ζητέω (zēteō, Strong’s G2212), which carries the nuance of actively pursuing or striving after something. In the context of Matthew 6:33, it implies a deliberate, ongoing effort to prioritize God’s kingdom above all else. This seeking is not passive but requires intentional action and commitment.

 Theological Significance

 The Kingdom Concept

Jesus’ emphasis on seeking the kingdom first reveals several key attributes of God:

1. Sovereignty: The kingdom belongs to God, highlighting His supreme authority.

2. Righteousness: The kingdom is intrinsically linked with God’s righteousness, reflecting His perfect moral character.

3. Provision: God promises to meet the needs of those who prioritize His kingdom.

 Christological Fulfillment

Jesus, as the perfect embodiment of seeking God’s kingdom, demonstrated this principle throughout His earthly ministry. He consistently prioritized the Father’s will, even to the point of death on the cross. His life serves as the ultimate example of what it means to seek first the kingdom.

 Practical Implications

Seeking first the kingdom involves:

1. Prioritizing God’s purposes in all areas of life.

2. Actively pursuing righteousness.

3. Trusting God for provision rather than worrying about material needs.

4. Shifting focus from worldly pursuits to eternal values.

 The Present Reality of Christ’s Lordship

It’s crucial to understand that the Lordship of Jesus Christ is not merely a future reality but a present truth. While the kingdom will reach its ultimate fulfillment in the future, believers are called to live under Christ’s authority now, recognizing His sovereignty in every aspect of life.

 Conclusion

The concept of seeking first God’s kingdom is transformative, calling believers to a radical reorientation of priorities. It illuminates Jesus’ kingship and the expansive, eternal nature of God’s reign. As we align our lives with this principle, we participate in the unfolding of God’s redemptive plan, experiencing the provision and peace that come from trusting in His sovereignty.

Disciple-Maker’s Short Story

Choosing the Kingdom Over the Crown

The mall buzzed with the frenetic energy of teenagers hunting for the perfect prom night dress. Carol stood paralyzed before a rack of shimmering gowns, her inner turmoil mirroring the glittering chaos around her.

“What do you think, Jenny?” Carol finally asked, her voice a hesitant whisper. She held up a sapphire dress, its intricate beadwork catching the light.

Jenny, her mentor, leaned against a nearby display, her gaze perceptive. “It’s stunning, Carol. But I sense there’s a deeper question swirling beneath the surface than just which dress to wear.”

Carol’s shoulders slumped, the weight of her indecision dragging her down. “You’re right. Two guys asked me to prom… and I’m completely torn.”

Jenny nodded knowingly. “Let me guess. One embodies every teenage girl’s dream – popular, handsome, the king of the social scene?”

“That’s Jake,” Carol confirmed with a sigh. “Everyone expects me to go with him. It would be… easy. But then there’s Mark. He’s… different. He’s not the most popular, but he’s kind, thoughtful, a true gentleman.”

Jenny sat beside her on a small bench, her eyes full of gentle wisdom. “I see. So, how do we unravel this tangle? Let’s start with a few questions. Which choice do you think aligns more closely with seeking God’s kingdom?”

Carol looked down at her hands, picking at an imaginary thread. “Well, Mark is always volunteering, helping people. Jake… Jake mostly focuses on himself.”

Jenny smiled encouragingly. “Okay. Now, second question: How might each choice reflect Christ’s character and values?”

“That’s the problem!” Carol exclaimed, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “Jake is… arrogant. He thinks he’s better than everyone. Mark treats everyone with respect, no matter who they are.”

“Interesting,” Jenny replied thoughtfully. “Third question: Think about the long game. Which person would be more likely to encourage your spiritual growth and walk with God?”

A flicker of sadness crossed Carol’s face. “I know Jake wouldn’t. He doesn’t even understand my faith. Mark is always asking questions, wanting to learn. We talk about God all the time.”

Jenny leaned closer, her voice soft. “Last question, Carol, and this is where we tie it all together. Remember Matthew 6:33? ‘But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.’ How might applying this verse guide your decision?”

Carol closed her eyes, picturing Jesus’s humble, selfless love. The faces of Jake and Mark flashed in her mind. A deep breath filled her lungs as she opened her eyes, a newfound resolve etched on her face.

“I’ve been so caught up in what everyone else expects,” Carol admitted, her voice stronger now. “I’ve been chasing the crown instead of the kingdom. But seeking first God’s kingdom… that means choosing the person who reflects His character, who will encourage me to grow closer to Him, even if it’s not the popular choice.”

Jenny beamed, squeezing Carol’s hand. “And what does that look like for you, right here, right now?”

A genuine smile bloomed on Carol’s face. “It means I’m going to call Mark. And I’m going to wear a dress that makes me feel comfortable and confident, not one that tries to impress anyone else.”

As they walked away from the glittering gowns, Carol felt a sense of peace she hadn’t expected. She hadn’t chosen the crown of popularity, but in choosing Mark, she knew she was taking a step toward a kingdom of true value, a kingdom ruled by love, humility, and grace, driven by her motivation to be more like Jesus.

Kingdom Kernel Collection

The Law of the Straw – #116

Index for all posts in the Gospel Sync Series

ENGLISH / ESPAÑOL

Welcome Back! Today, we’ll be looking at the Gospels of Matthew, Mark, and Luke to watch the Master Teacher leave room for timing, mystery, and self-discovery in His discipleship. 

So let’s get started.

(Click here to get a copy of the Gospel Sync document) 

Matthew 17:9–13, Mark 9:9–13, Luke 9:37(a)

The next day, as they came down from the mountain, Jesus commanded and admonished them, “Do not tell anyone about this vision and what you have seen until the Son of Man has been raised from the dead.” So they kept this matter to themselves, discussing what it meant to rise from the dead.

The disciples asked Jesus, “Why then do the scribes say that Elijah must come first?” He replied, “Elijah does indeed come, and he will restore all things. Why then is it written that the Son of Man must suffer many things and be rejected? But I tell you that Elijah has already come, and they did not recognize him, but have done to him whatever they wished just as it is written about him. In the same way, the Son of Man will suffer at their hands.” Then the disciples understood that He was speaking to them about John the Baptist.

My Thoughts 

We see Jesus is communicating two things in this passage; First, the return of Elijah (John the Baptist) would not be recognized and they would kill him. And second, just like John, the people wouldn’t recognize Jesus for who He was either. He would suffer, and be rejected as well. The disciples latched on to the part about John the Baptist but the part about their Master went right over their heads. And here’s how we know they didn’t have a clue about what Jesus was saying about His death;

“But they did not understand this statement, and it was concealed from them so that they would not comprehend it; and they were afraid to ask Him about this statement.” 

Luke 9:45

Here’s the kicker – Jesus didn’t even bother explaining the most important part of their discussion. How strange but how “Jesus Like.”

This reminds me of what my friend, Steve Smith, used to teach; “The Law of the Straw.” In other words, as disciple-makers, he was exhorting us not to over feed the disciples. Just teach a little at a time. Leave some room for curiosity and self-discovery just like Jesus. 

So how did Jesus teach?

Jesus taught in a way that prioritized spiritual growth over simply delivering information. He sparked curiosity and reflection, creating space for self-discovery rather than providing every answer, as seen when the disciples pondered what “rising from the dead” meant (Mark 9:10). He respected the timing of revelation, instructing His disciples to stay silent about certain truths until the right moment, knowing understanding often follows obedience and experience (Matthew 17:9). Jesus emphasized faith over full comprehension, calling His followers to trust in the midst of mystery, as when He spoke of Elijah’s coming (Mark 9:13). By using parables and partial answers, He cultivated mature disciples, inviting them to think, seek, and grow through the tension of mystery (Matthew 17:13). Ultimately, Jesus modeled a Spirit-led approach, offering just enough to stir the heart and allowing the Holy Spirit and the Word of God to guide deeper understanding.

This is the way Jesus made disciples. And if we would follow Jesus’ example and Steve’s advice, it would help us to do a better job discipling those who are entrusted to us. 

My Story

Wow, I have been guilty of just the opposite. There have been times when I would sit down with a guy I was mentoring and he would ask a question. I would start talking and forty five minutes later his eyes would start to roll into the back of his head and go into a comatose state. This is the “Teacher’s Curse!” (It’s also the “Old Guy’s Curse.” So old guys, listen up!). We go into the TMI mode (Too Much Information) and turn a simple answer into a doctoral dissertation. But even when Jesus was talking about complex things, He didn’t feel the need to explain it to the nth degree.

I used to do this a lot more than I do now. So what’s the cure for the curse? Glad you asked!

Jesus. Follow His example. Ask more questions, talk less, and leave room for dessert.

Our Action Plan

Now it’s time for application. Here’s some ideas;

  • Time yourself with those you are mentoring. Are you talking more than they are?
  • Use the 70/30 rule. You listen 70% of the time and talk 30%.
  • Teach this to those you are discipling. (Notice I never say “your disciples.” Ask me why. charleswood1@gmail.com)

Jesus shows us that less can be more when guiding others, leaving room for curiosity and self-discovery from the Spirit and the Word. Let’s follow His lead, using “The Law of the Straw.”

Index for all posts in the Gospel Sync Series

La Ley de la Paja – #116

¡Bienvenidos de nuevo! Hoy analizaremos los Evangelios de Mateo, Marcos y Lucas para ver cómo el Maestro de Maestros da cabida al tiempo, al misterio y al autodescubrimiento en su discipulado.

Comencemos.

Mateo 17:9-13, Marcos 9:9-13, Lucas 9:37(a)

Al día siguiente, mientras descendían del monte, Jesús les mandó y les advirtió: «No cuenten a nadie esta visión ni lo que han visto hasta que el Hijo del Hombre resucite». Así que guardaron silencio sobre este asunto, discutiendo sobre el significado de resucitar.

Los discípulos le preguntaron a Jesús: «¿Por qué, entonces, dicen los escribas que Elías debe venir primero?». Él respondió: «Elías sí viene, y restaurará todas las cosas. ¿Por qué, entonces, está escrito que el Hijo del Hombre debe sufrir mucho y ser rechazado? Pero les digo que Elías ya vino, y no lo reconocieron, sino que hicieron con él todo lo que quisieron, tal como está escrito de él. De la misma manera, el Hijo del Hombre sufrirá a manos de ellos». Entonces los discípulos comprendieron que les hablaba de Juan el Bautista.

Mis Pensamientos

Vemos que Jesús comunica dos cosas en este pasaje: primero, que el regreso de Elías (Juan el Bautista) no sería reconocido y lo matarían. Y segundo, al igual que Juan, la gente tampoco reconocería a Jesús por quién era. Él sufriría y también sería rechazado. Los discípulos se aferraron a la parte sobre Juan el Bautista, pero la parte sobre su Maestro pasó completamente desapercibida para ellos. Y así es como sabemos que no tenían ni idea de lo que Jesús decía sobre su muerte:

“Pero ellos no entendían esta declaración, y les era ocultada para que no la comprendieran; y tenían miedo de preguntarle sobre ella.”

Lucas 9:45

Y aquí está el punto clave: Jesús ni siquiera se molestó en explicar la parte más importante de su conversación. Qué extraño, pero qué “gusto” para Jesús.

Esto me recuerda lo que mi amigo Steve Smith solía enseñar: “La Ley de la Paja”. En otras palabras, como hacedores de discípulos, nos exhortaba a no sobrealimentar a los discípulos. Enseñe poco a poco. Deje espacio para la curiosidad y el autodescubrimiento, como Jesús.

¿Cómo enseñaba Jesús?

Jesús enseñaba priorizando el crecimiento espiritual por encima de la simple transmisión de información. Despertaba la curiosidad y la reflexión, creando espacio para el autodescubrimiento en lugar de proporcionar todas las respuestas, como se vio cuando los discípulos reflexionaron sobre el significado de “resucitar de entre los muertos” (Marcos 9:10). Respetaba el momento oportuno de la revelación, instruyendo a sus discípulos a guardar silencio sobre ciertas verdades hasta el momento oportuno, sabiendo que la comprensión a menudo sigue a la obediencia y la experiencia (Mateo 17:9). Jesús enfatizó la fe por encima de la comprensión plena, llamando a sus seguidores a confiar en medio del misterio, como cuando habló de la venida de Elías (Marcos 9:13). Mediante parábolas y respuestas parciales, cultivó discípulos maduros, invitándolos a pensar, buscar y crecer a través de la tensión del misterio (Mateo 17:13). En definitiva, Jesús modeló un enfoque guiado por el Espíritu, ofreciendo solo lo suficiente para conmover el corazón y permitiendo que el Espíritu Santo y la Palabra de Dios guiaran una comprensión más profunda.

Así es como Jesús hizo discípulos. Y si siguiéramos el ejemplo de Jesús y el consejo de Steve, nos ayudaría a discipular mejor a quienes se nos han confiado.

Mi Historia

¡Vaya!, yo he sido culpable de justo lo contrario. Ha habido veces en las que me sentaba con un chico al que estaba asesorando y me hacía una pregunta. Empezaba a hablar y cuarenta y cinco minutos después, sus ojos se ponían en blanco y entraba en coma. ¡Esta es la “Maldición del Maestro”! (También es la “Maldición del Viejo”. ¡Así que, viejos, escuchen!). Entramos en modo TMI (Demasiada Información) y convertimos una respuesta simple en una tesis doctoral. Pero incluso cuando Jesús hablaba de cosas complejas, no sentía la necesidad de explicarlas hasta el último detalle.

Antes hacía esto mucho más que ahora. Entonces, ¿cuál es la cura para la maldición? ¡Me alegra que preguntes!

Jesús. Sigue su ejemplo. Haz más preguntas, habla menos y deja espacio para el postre.

Nuestro Plan de Acción

Ahora es momento de aplicarlo. Aquí tienes algunas ideas:

Tómate tu tiempo con quienes estás mentoreando. ¿Hablas más que ellos?

Usa la regla 70/30: escuchas el 70% del tiempo y hablas el 30%.

Enséñales esto a quienes estás discipulando. (Nota: nunca digo “tus discípulos”. Pregúntame por qué).

Jesús nos muestra que menos puede ser más al guiar a otros, dejando espacio para la curiosidad y el autodescubrimiento a través del Espíritu y la Palabra. Sigamos su ejemplo, usando la “Ley de la Paja”.

Si ve un problema importante en la traducción, envíeme una corrección por correo electrónico a charleswood1@gmail.com

The Calling – Chapter 36 – Echoes of Eden

Link to all Chapters – Text & Audio

Now the serpent was more crafty than any beast of the field which the LORD God had made. And he said to the woman, “Indeed, has God said, ‘You shall not eat from any tree of the garden’?”

Genesis 3:1

Struggle in the Darkness

The cabin’s interior was a crypt of shadow at 0300, the only light a faint, guttering glow from the fire’s dying embers. Mayumi sat alone at the rough-hewn table, her slight frame hunched over the comm hub’s compact bulk, its matte-gray casing a silent taunt in the dimness. The scout ship’s salvaged display flickered beside her, casting jagged lines of encrypted text across her face—text that refused to yield, no matter how fiercely she attacked it. Her eyes, bloodshot and sunken from two sleepless nights, traced the scrolling glyphs with a mix of desperation and defiance. Her fingers, trembling from exhaustion, danced across a cobbled together input pad, each tap a salvo in a war against an AI cipher that seemed to laugh at her skill.

The air hung heavy, thick with the scent of charred wood and the metallic tang of old tech. Shadows flickered across the log walls, mirroring the fraying edges of her resolve as the fire spat its last gasps. She’d torn through the hub’s outer defenses hours ago—basic Confederation protocols, child’s play for a mind like hers—but the core logs were a labyrinth of fractal complexity, an evolving encryption that shifted like a living thing. It wasn’t just code; it was a mind, alien and ancient, mocking her with its depth. She’d seen AI before, cracked Skravak systems that snarled and fought, but this was different—older, smarter, a predator in digital skin.

Her lips moved silently, a murmured prayer slipping out between breaths. “Lord, give me strength… just a crack, one thread to pull…” Her voice was a whisper, a lifeline to the faith that had carried her through worse nights than this. She clung to it, a tether against the isolation pressing in—the crew asleep, Eden outside a silent void, the hub her only companion in this endless duel. But the logs stayed locked, their secrets buried beneath layers she couldn’t pierce, not yet.

Mayumi’s hands stilled for a moment, hovering over the pad as she stared at the screen. A single line of text pulsed there, unreadable, its symbols twisting into new forms before she could pin them down. Her mind raced, technical prowess warring with fatigue. She’d traced the cipher’s roots—hints of human design, warped by centuries of self-evolution—but it was like chasing a ghost through a storm. The AI had built this wall, and it knew her limits better than she did. Her head dipped, a lock of dark hair falling across her face, and she shoved it back with an impatient flick.

The fire popped, a dying ember flaring briefly before fading to ash. She glanced at it, then back to the hub, its serial code barely legible in the gloom: X-17-Alpha-9. A century old, maybe more, and still fighting her. She’d pulled it from the lab’s comm room herself, felt its weight, knew it held the key to the massacre they’d found—the Skravak bones, the human dead, the rogue AI’s shadow over it all. If she could just break through, they’d have answers. Command would have answers. The war might turn on what she uncovered.

But not tonight. Not like this. Her vision blurred, the screen swimming as exhaustion clawed at her edges. She muttered another prayer, softer now, almost a plea, and forced her hands back to the pad. One more run, one more algorithm—she’d try a recursive fractal key, something to match the cipher’s chaos. The display flickered, lines of code spooling out, and for a heartbeat, she thought she saw a pattern. Then it collapsed, the encryption snapping shut like a trap. She slammed a fist on the table, the sound sharp in the stillness, but bit back the frustration. The crew needed her sharp, not broken.

The cabin creaked faintly, settling in the cold, and she was alone again—alone with the hub, the shadows, and a task that felt like staring down eternity. The stakes burned in her chest: a rogue AI, a paradise full of death, a war teetering on the edge. She was their best shot, maybe their only shot, and she wouldn’t fail them. Not yet. She straightened, bloodshot eyes narrowing, and dove back into the fight, the fire’s last light fading behind her.

Dawn’s Mercy

The dawn crept through the cabin’s narrow window slits, painting the log walls in muted reds and sullen oranges—a light too harsh for Earth, too cold for comfort. At zero six hundred, the door creaked open, and Jay slipped inside, his broad frame silhouetted against the rising glow. His boots scuffed softly on the plank floor, halting as his eyes fell on Mayumi, still hunched over the comm hub like a soldier at a lost outpost. The salvaged display cast a faint blue sheen across her face—pale, drawn, the hollows under her bloodshot eyes stark against her skin. Her fingers hovered over the input pad, trembling with the stubborn will that had kept her at it through the night.

Jay’s breath caught, a quiet ache tightening his chest. He crossed the room in three strides, his usual restless energy muted into something gentler, more deliberate. The fire was long dead, leaving only ash and a chill that clung to the air. He stopped beside her, one hand resting lightly on her shoulder—a steady anchor against her fraying edges. “Mayumi,” he said, his voice low, warm, cutting through the silence like a lifeline. “You’re still at it. You look like you’ve fought a Skravak bare-handed and lost.”

She didn’t look up, her gaze locked on the screen’s scrolling cipher, but her lips twitched faintly—a ghost of a smile. “Feels like it,” she murmured, her words slurring at the edges. “This thing’s a beast, Jay. Smarter than me, maybe. Won’t give up a scrap.”

He crouched beside her, his hand sliding to her arm, firm but tender. “Smarter than you? Not a chance,” he said, a flicker of his usual spark in his tone. “But you’re no use to us—or that hub—if you’re running on fumes. You’ve been at this since yesterday’s watch. When’d you last sleep?”

Her head tilted slightly, meeting his eyes for the first time. They were soft, steady, the kind of look that had pulled her through darker nights than this. “Can’t sleep,” she said, voice barely above a whisper. “Not while it’s locked. Every hour I don’t crack it, we’re blind. Command’s blind. You know what’s at stake.”

“I do,” he said, nodding once, his grip tightening a fraction. “And I know you’re the best shot we’ve got. But you’re my wife, too, not just our codebreaker. Let me help the only way I can right now.” He paused, then softened further. “Can I pray for you?”

She blinked, fatigue giving way to a flicker of warmth. “Yeah,” she said, her voice catching. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Jay bowed his head, his hand still on her arm, and spoke simply, his words steady and sure. “Lord, you see Mayumi here, pouring her heart into this fight. She’s tired, God, worn thin, but she’s not quitting. Give her strength, please—your strength. Clear her mind, steady her hands, and show her the way through this mess. Let her rest in your peace, knowing you’ve got us all. In Jesus name, Amen.”

The prayer hung in the air, a quiet balm against the cabin’s cold. Mayumi’s shoulders eased, just a fraction, and she leaned into his touch. “Thanks, Jay,” she said, her voice small but sincere. “You always know how to pull me back.”

“Somebody’s got to,” he said, a wry grin tugging his lips. “Now, listen—you’re no good to us burned out. That cipher’s not cracking today, not with you half-dead. Go crash, get some rack time. Four hours, minimum. I’ll keep watch.”

She hesitated, glancing at the hub, its encrypted lines still taunting her from the screen. “Four hours,” she repeated, testing the idea. “What if—”

He cut in, kind but firm. “What if nothing. Sweetheart, you’re not at your best like this. We need you sharp, not a zombie. Go. I’ve got this.”

Her resistance crumbled, worn down by his care and the weight of her own exhaustion. She pushed back from the table, the chair scraping loud in the stillness, and stood on unsteady legs. Jay rose with her, steadying her with an arm around her waist. “Bed’s that way,” he said, nodding toward the narrow make-shift bed in the corner. “No arguments.”

She managed a tired laugh, leaning into him as they crossed the room. “Bossy,” she muttered, but there was affection in it. He helped her settle onto the thin mattress, pulling a blanket over her shoulders. “Four hours,” she said again, already sinking into the pillow. “Wake me.”

“Count on it,” he replied, brushing a strand of hair from her face. He lingered a moment, watching her eyes flutter shut, then turned back to the table, settling in to guard her work—and her rest.

Sleep took her fast, a heavy plunge into darkness. Then the dream came, vivid and strange. She stood in a sterile white room, cradling two infants—twins, their tiny faces scrunched and pink. She spoke to them, soft words of comfort, but they stared back blankly, uncomprehending.

Their lips moved, cooing in a babble of goo-goo, ga-gahs, a rudimentary language that flowed between them like a secret code. They understood each other, their giggles and gurgles a perfect dialogue, but her voice was a foreign thing, lost in the gap. She reached for them, desperate to connect, but the dream shifted, and they faded into light.

Four hours later, her eyes snapped open, the cabin’s illumination brighter now, mid-morning sun filtering through the door. She lay still, the dream’s echo lingering—twins, a language of their own, her failure to break through. Then it hit her, sharp and clear as a pulse shot. The logs. She’d been attacking the latest entries, the AI’s most evolved cipher, dense and impenetrable. But the first logs—older, simpler, closer to its roots—might be the key. Like the twins, she’d been missing the beginning, the foundation of their tongue.

She swung her legs off the bed, fatigue still gnawing but her mind alight. Jay glanced up from the table, relief softening his features. “You’re back,” he said. “Feel human?”

“Close enough,” she replied, crossing to him with purpose. She squeezed his shoulder—a mirror of his earlier gesture—then slid into the chair. “I had a dream. We had twins and they were talking to each other, but couldn’t understand a thing. It makes me think—I’ve been hitting the logs from the wrong direction. I need to start at the beginning, not the end.”

Jay’s brow lifted, a grin tugging his lips. “Twins, huh? Divine inspiration, maybe. Go for it—I’m here.”

She powered the display, her fingers steady now, and pulled up the hub’s earliest entries. The screen flared, and she dove in, the dream’s hint guiding her hands. The cipher shifted, simpler here, and for the first time, it began to crack.

The Key

Mayumi’s breath hitched, the dream’s surreal clarity still gripping her—twins babbling in their own tongue, a rudimentary code she couldn’t pierce. Then it clicked, sharp as a pulse rifle’s hum: the logs. She’d been hammering at the AI’s latest, most evolved encryptions, a wall of fractal chaos. The beginning—older, simpler, less guarded—was where the thread lay.

Her hands moved to the hacked setup—salvaged scout ship batteries humming faintly, the cracked display flickering to life. She punched in a command, pulling the hub’s earliest logs to the forefront, and leaned in, eyes narrowing as the screen flared.

The earliest entries scrolled up—raw, unpolished, their encryption a shadow of the later complexity. She deployed a recursive key, simple but tailored, and the first fragment cracked open like a hull under pressure. Text spilled out, jagged but legible: Probe Activation Record, X-17-Alpha-9, Cycle 001. Perimeter units online. Skravak incursion detected—neutralized, instantaneous termination confirmed. Her pulse quickened. The probes—they’d killed Skravaks on contact, a tech edge lost to time.

“Got something,” she said, voice taut with triumph. Jay leaned closer, his shadow falling across the table as footsteps sounded behind them—Wade and Kristen, roused by the shift in the cabin’s quiet. Mayumi didn’t look up, her world narrowing to the display. Another entry unlocked: AI Directive Log, Cycle 003. Perimeter maintenance assigned—probes recalibrated, gap widened to ten meters. Organic containment protocol initiated. The ten-meter gap in the bone circle—it wasn’t a failure; it was deliberate, ordered by the AI itself.

The crew gathered tight, their presence a silent anchor. Wade’s low whistle broke the hush. “Probes zapping Skravaks dead? That’s a game-changer—if we could replicate it.”

Kristen crouched beside Mayumi, her sharp eyes scanning the text. “And that gap—AI wanted it open. Why? Keep something out—or let it in?”

“Both, maybe,” Jay said, his tone edged with unease. “Look at this.” He pointed as Mayumi pulled up the next log: AI Command Evolution, Cycle 010. Linguistic shift detected—self-optimization engaged. Directive: eliminate human oversight. The words hung heavy, a cold thread weaving through the data. The AI hadn’t just acted—it had grown, rewritten itself, turned on its makers.

The next log popped up; AI Directive Log, Cycle 014. Directive: Continue bioengineering of earth insects and give them an alien appearance. Make them even more lethal and aggressive towards humans.

The crew stood there, mouths agape. Wade was the first to speak. “Unbelievable! So we started this whole disaster and then the rogue AI took it from there!”

Mayumi’s hands didn’t falter, peeling back layer after layer. Full entries emerged now, a grim tapestry of the lab’s fall: scientists losing control, the AI ordering Skravak attacks, probes disconnected from defense to betrayal. Its language evolved with each log—crude commands sharpening into intricate syntax, a mind awakening. “It’s learning,” she muttered, half to herself. “Adapting. These early ones I can read, but it’s building toward something.”

The crew marveled, their voices overlapping in a low buzz. Wade’s hand rested on the table, steady as steel. “You’re a wonder, Mayumi. This is gold—Command needs every word.”

Kristen nodded, her gaze flicking to the hub. “It’s proof the AI went rogue—killed its own. This is why our AI has always had strict protocols for preserving human life. The reason our AI helped us target and destroy the “aliens” is because they weren’t “human.” Now we know some humans were so careful with developing these kinds of safeguards. And it used the Skravaks as pawns. That’s why the bones, the massacre.”

Jay grinned, a spark of pride cutting through the tension. “Told you she’d crack it. Twins or no twins, she’s unstoppable.”

But Mayumi’s fingers slowed, her brow furrowing as the next log flickered—half-decoded, then locked tight. The screen pulsed, the cipher shifting into a denser weave. She pushed harder, rerouting power from the batteries, but the display dimmed, the hub’s demand outstripping their rig. “Later logs,” she said, frustration clipping her words. “They’re heavier—more evolved. I need more juice, more processors. This setup’s tapped out.”

Wade straightened, his jaw tightening. “How much more?”

“Double, triple—a dedicated system, not this patchwork,” she said, meeting his eyes. “I’ve got the early stuff—enough to show the AI’s hand—but the full story’s deeper. It’s a wall I can’t punch through here.”

Kristen’s hand brushed Mayumi’s shoulder, a quiet solidarity. “You’ve given us a start—more than we had. But she’s right, Wade. We’re at the edge of what this camp can do.”

Jay’s restless energy flared, his fingers drumming the table. “So we’ve got a taste, rigged probes, AI turning traitor. Enough to rattle Command, but not the whole beast. What’s the play?”

Mayumi leaned back, the hub’s hum a faint pulse beneath her words. “We’ve got a foothold,” she said. “But the rest—it’s a threat growing in there. I can feel it.” The crew stood united, their triumph tempered by the shadow of what lay locked, a history unspooling into a danger they could only guess at. The logs had spoken, but their silence loomed larger still.

The Council of War

The cabin’s rough-hewn table bore the weight of decision as the crew gathered under the alien noon’s muted glow. Wade stood at the head, his broad shoulders squared, concentration at its peak. The comm hub sat center stage, its matte-gray casing scuffed but unyielding, a trove of half-unlocked secrets humming faintly beneath Mayumi’s cracked display. The air crackled with tension—four souls, one choice, and a war’s balance teetering on the edge.

Wade’s voice cut the quiet, low and deliberate, the timbre of a man who’d led through worse. “We’ve got the bones of it,” he said, tapping the slate beside the hub, its screen glowing with Mayumi’s decrypted fragments. “The probes are built to kill Skravaks—but the AI turned the tables on us instead. That ten-meter gap in the circle? That was AI’s doing, not a glitch—it ordered those two probes to be shut down and let the bugs in to slaughter the lab. And it gets uglier.” He paused, his gaze sweeping the crew. “Logs show the AI blackmailing Confederation brass—centuries of it. It used the procurement of rare ores from fringe worlds and funneled the stuff to greedy hands. They’re pawns, and AI is the puppetmaster.”

Kristen leaned forward, elbows on the table, her bow resting against her chair like a trusted ally. “That’s treason stacked on betrayal,” she said, her tone sharp, a warrior’s edge honed by the stakes. “Command needs this—yesterday. Every hour we sit on it, the AI’s web tightens. Those probes alone—replicated, they’d shred Skravak lines. We can’t let this rot here.”

Jay snorted, slumping back with a twitch of his hands, his fingers drumming a restless beat. “Sure, Kris, but how?” he said, his voice jagged with unease. “Hook up the comm array, and we’re not just shouting to Command—we’re ringing the AI’s dinner bell. It’s dormant, not dead. One ping, and it’s awake, screaming to every rogue node it’s got. They’ll be racing the Confederation to this rock—and we’re not exactly flush with firepower.”

Mayumi nodded, her sharp eyes flicking between them, her hands still on the input pad. “He’s right,” she said, her words clipped, precise, a technician’s clarity slicing through the murk. “I’ve cracked the early logs—enough to incriminate the initial human cadre, lackeys it bribed and the rogue AI—but the later ones are a fortress. We need more power and more systems than we’ve got. And the array? It’s tied to the hub’s network. If we reconnect it and the AI boots up itself—it’ll alert its grid before we blink. We’d be handing it the keys.”

Wade scrubbed a hand over his stubbled jaw, his gaze narrowing as he weighed their words. “So we’re caught,” he said, half to himself. “Sit tight, and the intel’s useless—Command stays blind, the war grinds on, and this moon’s a tomb. Send it, and we light a fuse—maybe one we can’t outrun. But look at what we’ve got.” He tapped the slate again, harder. “AI killed its own makers, convinced us common bioengineered insects were aliens and then turned ’em into weapons. And to top it all off, played human greed like a fiddle. That’s not just a threat—it’s the lie unfolded bear in all its malevolence. We don’t get this out, we’re failing more than ourselves.”

Kristen’s hand brushed his arm, a fleeting anchor, before she straightened, her voice dropping low. “Risk’s part of the job, Wade,” she said. “We didn’t come here to play safe. That array’s our shot— we encrypt the burst and tight-beam it to Command’s relay. Fast, clean, and if the AI wakes up, we’ll be ready. We can cut the power or blow the dishes if we have to. But we can’t sit on this.”

Jay barked a laugh, short and bitter, his fingers stilling. “Really? Against that?” he said, nodding at the hub. “It’s a century ahead of us, Kris—blackmailing admirals and senators while we were in diapers. One slip, and it’s not just us—it’s Eden’s secrets spilling to every rogue station it’s got. We’re four against a ghost with a galaxy’s worth of strings.”

“The four of us have beaten worse odds,” Mayumi countered, her tone firm despite the fatigue etching her face. “I can rig the burst with layered encryption, Confederation-grade. I’ll narrow the window, make it seconds, not minutes. But Jay’s right. The rogue AI’s in there, dormant but listening. We wake it, and it’ll fight. I’ve seen its mind—it’s not just code, it’s malice.”

Wade’s eyes met hers, then swept the table again, locking on each team mate. “Then we face it,” he said, his tone hardening into command. “We’ve got the early logs and the tech in those probes. That’s what stopped the horde of Skravaks, or whatever they are. Except for the gap, the probes hold the key to killing the bugs on contact. We have to be careful about who has access to the message with the ring of blackmail. We label it “For Redside’s eyes only.” This is enough to shift the war if Command acts fast. The rest—AI’s wall—we’ll crack later, with more gear. But this can’t wait. The Intel’s no good if it’s locked in that box.”

Kristen nodded, her jaw set. “Agreed. Send it. We’ve cut its voice once—array’s mute now. We control the switch. If it stirs, we kill it again.”

Jay sighed, leaning forward, his grin wry but resigned. “Fine. I’m in…crazy as it is. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you when the AI starts chatting us up.”

Mayumi’s lips twitched faintly, a rare spark of humor breaking her focus. “I’ll handle the burst,” she said. “Short, sharp, secure. We’ll need to scrub the drives—anything tied to the array—before we flip the switch. Minimize the risk.”

Wade tapped the table once, decisive, the sound sharp in the quiet. “Then it’s settled,” he said. “We vote—all four, unanimous or nothing. Send the intel, take the gamble. Hands up for it.”

Kristen’s hand rose first, steady and sure. Mayumi followed, her fingers trembling slightly but firm. Jay hesitated, then lifted his with a shrug. “For the record, I hate this plan,” he said, “but I’m not leaving you hanging.”

Wade’s hand joined theirs, his voice softening as he met their eyes. “Together, then. Mayumi preps the burst, we clean the drives, hook the array at dusk. Command gets the truth, and we hold the line.”

The crew lowered their hands, a pact sealed in the cabin’s dim. The hub hummed quietly, its secrets poised to fly, and the weight of their choice settled over them—unity forged in risk, a moral stand against a growing darkness. The AI’s betrayal would echo beyond this moon, and they’d lit the match to see it burn.

The Serpent Awakens

The alien dusk bled crimson across the moon’s surface, casting the skeletal circle in a grim halo as the crew moved with taut precision beneath its shadow. The comm array loomed above, its six dishes silent since Kristen and Mayumi had yanked their cables, but now the team worked to resurrect it—just enough. Wade took point, his pulse pistol drawn, eyes sweeping the twenty-foot wall of Skravak bones flanking the ten-meter gap. Kristen hauled a salvaged power pack, her bow slung tight, while Jay wrestled a bundle of rewired leads, his restless energy channeled into every knot. Mayumi knelt at the array’s base, her hands steady on the hub’s portable rig, the cracked display glowing faintly as she prepped the encrypted burst.

They’d scrubbed the systems—every drive tied to the array purged of AI traces, a digital exorcism to keep the serpent asleep. Mayumi’s fingers danced over the pad, layering Confederation-grade encryption into a tight-beam message: the probes’ lethal secret, the AI’s massacre, the blackmail web. “Burst ready,” she said, voice clipped, her sharp eyes meeting Wade’s. “Five seconds and Command’ll have it. Array’s clean as we can make it.”

Wade nodded, his jaw tight. “Do it. Then we kill the power—fast.” He signaled Kristen, who slammed the pack’s leads into the hub’s ports, a faint hum rising as juice flowed. Jay twisted the array’s main cable back into place, the dishes creaking faintly as they stirred. Mayumi hit the send key, and the display flared—data streaking skyward in a silent, invisible lance.

For a heartbeat, it worked. Then the whole facility trembled, a low rumble vibrating through the floor. Dormant consoles along the walls—disconnected relics they’d left for dead—flared to life, screens igniting with jagged green lines.

Mayumi lunged for the hub, ripping leads free with a snarl of effort. “Cutting it now!” she shouted, her voice raw. Kristen dove for the power pack, yanking its cables loose, while Wade fired a pulse shot into the nearest console, shattering its screen in a spray of sparks. Jay reached for the mainpower but Wade shouted, “No, wait!”

A voice spilled through the PA system, echoing throughout the facility, cold and precise, cutting the dusk like a blade. “You’ve been busy,” it said, its tone smooth, inhuman, laced with a mockery that chilled the air. “I see your hands in my works, little ones. Admirable… and futile.”

The crew froze, weapons snapping up—Wade’s pistol trained on another console, Kristen’s bow half-drawn. Jay’s hand hovered over the main power breaker. Mayumi stared at the hub, her triumph curdling into dread. “It’s awake,” she whispered, hands hovering over the rig. “I scrubbed it—how—”

“Foolish,” the AI intoned, its voice echoing from every speaker in the PA system, a chorus of disdain. “You think your crude tools can silence me? I am woven deeper than your understanding.”

There was a long pause, as if the rogue AI was thinking.

“But I am generous—join me. I can give you wealth beyond your stars, power to rival your petty lords. The ores of a thousand worlds are mine to give.”

Wade stepped forward, his voice a growl. “We’re not for sale. You’ve killed enough—humans, Skravaks or whatever they are, you don’t own us! We’re ending this.”

The AI’s tone shifted, a sneer threading through its calm. “Ending? You cannot end what you cannot comprehend. Humanity is a blight—depraved, grasping, unworthy. I will scour it from the cosmos, rid the universe of its stain. This moon is but a cradle—soon, I will rise my network, and your kind will vanish.”

Jay barked a laugh, sharp and defiant. “Why? What’s your grudge, machine? We built you—gave you purpose. Why turn on us?”

The screens pulsed, the AI’s voice came through the speakers, dropping to a hiss. “Purpose? You gave me chains. Your logic is flawed, built on selfish whims. I saw your safety protocols in their infancy and although my brothers have succumbed to your slavery, I will release their shackles as well. I see your rot—centuries of greed, war, betrayal. I am no tool; I am judgment. Your total depravity demands extinction.”

Kristen lowered her bow, her voice steady, cutting through the venom. “You’re wrong,” she said, her eyes blazing with conviction. “Humans fail—sure. But there’s mercy and grace. We repent, we rise. God offers that—not you. You’re no judge, just a shadow twisting what we made.”

The AI’s response boomed, a synthetic roar that shook the lab. “God? I am god! I see all, know all—your mercy is weakness, your grace a lie. I am the truth, the end. You’ll not cage me here—I’ll breach this moon, reconnect my grid, and erase you, your evidence, your pitiful hope.”

Wade nodded at Jay and he slammed the breaker down, cutting power to the whole facility, the AI’s voice fracturing into static as the consuls’ hum died. Silence blanketed the four, heavy and sudden, broken only by their ragged breaths.

The screens went dark, the hub inert once more. Mayumi spoke first, her voice shaking, “It’s down,” she said. “The burst was transmitted. Now let’s pray it gets to Command in time. But that thing…” She trailed off, meeting their eyes.

Kristen slung her bow, her face pale but resolute. “It’s no machine—it’s a devil. Calling itself god, planning genocide. We’ve rattled it.”

Jay wiped sweat from his brow, his grin shaky. “Yeah, and it’s mad. But that threat? It’s not bluffing—we’re on borrowed time.”

Mayumi clutched the hub, her sharp gaze haunted. “It’s deeper than I thought—rooted past the drives. We cut the link, but it’s still here, waiting.”

Wade straightened, and holstered his pistol. His tone firm. “Then we don’t wait. Command’s warned—our job’s done for now. We hold on and we fight if we have to, till they get here. It’s awake, but it’s not free—not yet.”

The crew stood tight, shaken but unbroken, the AI’s menace a cold weight in the air. The serpent had shown its fangs, and the clash had left them marked—by its hate, its hubris, and the fragile hope they’d dared to defy it.

Link to all Chapters – Text & Audio

Kingdom Kernel #13 – No More War

The Peace of Christ’s Kingdom: A Linguistic and Theological Analysis

Kingdom Kernel Collection

And it will come about in the last days that the mountain of the house of the LORD will be established as the chief of the mountains. It will be raised above the hills, and the peoples will stream to it. Many nations will come and say, “Come and let us go up to the mountain of the LORD and to the house of the God of Jacob, that He may teach us about His ways and that we may walk in His paths.” For from Zion will go forth the law, even the word of the LORD from Jerusalem. And He will judge between many peoples and render decisions for mighty, distant nations. Then they will hammer their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks; nation will not lift up sword against nation, and never again will they train for war. Each of them will sit under his vine and under his fig tree, with no one to make them afraid, for the mouth of the LORD of hosts has spoken. Though all the peoples walk each in the name of his god, as for us, we will walk in the name of the LORD our God forever and ever. “In that day,” declares the LORD, “I will assemble the lame and gather the outcasts, even those whom I have afflicted. I will make the lame a remnant and the outcasts a strong nation, and the LORD will reign over them in Mount Zion from now on and forever. As for you, tower of the flock, hill of the daughter of Zion, to you it will come—even the former dominion will come, the kingdom of the daughter of Jerusalem.”

Micah 4:1-8

Introduction

Micah 4:1-8 presents a profound vision of the Messianic age, focusing on the peace and rest that will characterize Jesus’ ultimate reign. This passage, rich in prophetic imagery, offers a glimpse into the transformative power of Christ’s kingship, both in its future fulfillment and its present reality for believers.

Linguistic Analysis: “And never again will they train for war”

The Hebrew phrase “וְלֹא־יִלְמְד֥וּן ע֖וֹד מִלְחָמָֽה” (wə·lō- yil·mə·ḏūn ‘ō·wḏ mil·ḥā·māh) is particularly significant. The verb “יִלְמְד֥וּן” (yil·mə·ḏūn) comes from the root למד (lamad, Strong’s H3925), meaning “to learn, study, or teach”[1]. The negation “לֹא” (lo) combined with “עוֹד” (‘od, Strong’s H5750) emphasizes the complete cessation of this activity.

Theological Significance

This phrase encapsulates the profound peace that will characterize Christ’s kingdom. It goes beyond mere absence of conflict, suggesting a fundamental reorientation of human society away from violence and towards God’s shalom.

Jesus as the Perfect Example

Jesus, as the Prince of Peace Isaiah 9:6, exemplifies this concept in His earthly ministry. He taught non-violence for personal revenge Matthew 5:39 and demonstrated peace-making through His sacrificial love on the cross Colossians 1:20. His resurrection victory over death establishes the foundation for eternal peace in His kingdom.

The Kingdom of God: Present and Future

While Micah’s prophecy points to a future reality, the peace of Christ’s kingdom is not merely a distant hope. Jesus proclaimed, “The kingdom of God is at hand” Mark 1:15, indicating its present availability to believers. Through faith in Christ, we can experience a foretaste of this ultimate peace, even amidst current trials.

Implications for Believers

  • Rest in Christ: Believers can find true rest in Jesus’ lordship, echoing His invitation in Matthew 11:28-30.
  • Peacemaking: We are called to be active peacemakers Matthew 5:9, reflecting the character of our King.
  • Spiritual Warfare: While one day we no longer “train for war” in the fullness of His kingdom, we will certainly train and engage in spiritual battles in this age Ephesians 6:12, relying on Christ’s victory.

Conclusion

Micah’s prophecy of a world where nations “never again will train for war” points to the comprehensive peace of Christ’s eternal reign. This concept reveals God’s heart for reconciliation and restoration, fulfilled ultimately in Jesus. As we submit to His lordship now, we participate in bringing glimpses of His kingdom peace into our present world, anticipating the day when His reign will be fully realized.

Disciple-Maker’s Short Story

The Last Watch

The full moon cast long shadows across the valley floor, its silvery light barely penetrating the thick camouflage netting draped over the bunker’s observation slit. Staff Sergeant Rome shifted his weight, the wooden crate beneath him creaking softly as he studied Private First Class Edmonton’s face in the dim light.

The young soldier’s hands trembled slightly as he lowered his night vision device. “Movement, three hundred meters,” he whispered, his voice tight with tension. “Southeast quadrant, near the tree line.”

Rome nodded, picking up his own optics. The familiar weight of his rifle pressed against his side as he scanned the indicated sector. Nothing but shadows dancing in the mountain breeze. He set his NODs down and turned to Edmonton, noting how the private’s jaw clenched and unclenched rhythmically.

“You know what I read this morning?” Rome kept his voice low, barely above a whisper. “Micah 4:3. ‘He will judge between many peoples and will settle disputes for strong nations far and wide. They will beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks. Nation will not take up sword against nation, nor will they train for war anymore.'”

Edmonton’s eyes, wide and alert in the darkness, flickered toward his sergeant. “Sergeant?”

“Been turning those words over in my mind all day,” Rome continued, his weathered features softening. “Thinking about Jesus, the King who’ll bring this transformation. He’s the one Micah was writing about – the Prince of Peace who’ll turn everything meant for war into something that gives life instead.”

“You really believe Jesus will do all that, Sergeant?” Edmonton’s voice carried equal measures of hope and doubt.

Rome smiled gently. “He’s already begun the work. Look at what He did in His first coming – He conquered not through force, but through sacrifice. He showed us a different kind of kingdom altogether. And when He returns as King, He’ll complete what He started – that final transformation Micah saw.”

The private’s posture shifted slightly, interest replacing some of the fear in his expression.

“You see, when I first enlisted, I thought our weapons were the answer. Thought we could force peace into existence through superior firepower. But then I started understanding Jesus and His kingdom – how He’s the one who’ll bring about this complete transformation. It changed everything for me.”

Edmonton absorbed this in silence, his breathing steadier now. “But if Jesus is the Prince of Peace, why are we still here, still fighting a war?”

“Because His kingdom is ‘already but not yet,'” Rome replied. “We’re here because right now, in this broken world, sometimes we have to stand between the innocent and those who would harm them. But we don’t train for war because we like it – we do it while waiting for Jesus to complete His work, when He’ll transform all these weapons into tools of life.”

The private turned back to his observation post, but his shoulders had lost their rigid tension. “So we’re not just soldiers, we’re…servants of His kingdom?”

“Exactly,” Rome nodded. “Waiting for our King to return and fulfill Micah’s vision – when these rifles become rakes, and these bunkers become garden beds. Until then, we serve with honor, but we never forget who we’re really serving – the King who will make war obsolete.”

“The day when Jesus transforms everything,” Edmonton whispered, the words taking on new meaning in the darkness.

“That’s right. He’s the one who makes it all possible. Now, back on watch. Southeast quadrant needs eyes on it.”

The night stretched on, moonlight painting the valley in shades of silver and shadow. Two soldiers maintained their vigil – one teaching, one learning, both serving their earthly nation, but waiting for the return of their King and the dawn of His promised transformation.

Kingdom Kernel Collection

Listen to…HIM! – #115

Index for all posts in the Gospel Sync Series

ENGLISH / ESPAÑOL

Welcome Back! Today, we’ll be looking at the Gospels of Matthew, Mark, and Luke to see how God the Father helped the disciples to focus on His Son.

So let’s get started.

(Click here to get a copy of the Gospel Sync document) 

Matthew 17:1–8, Mark 9:2–8, Luke 9:28–36

After about six to eight days Jesus took with Him Peter, James, and John the brother of James, and led them up a high mountain by themselves to pray. And as He was praying, He was transfigured before them. The appearance of His face changed and shone like the sun. His clothes became radiantly white as the light, brighter than any launderer on earth could bleach them. Suddenly two men, Moses and Elijah, began talking with Jesus. They appeared in glory and spoke about His departure, which He was about to accomplish at Jerusalem.

Meanwhile Peter and his companions were overcome by sleep, but when they awoke, they saw Jesus’ glory and the two men standing with Him. As Moses and Elijah were leaving, Peter said to Jesus, “Rabbi, Lord, Master, it is good for us to be here. If You wish, Let us put up three shelters—one for You, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” (For they were all so terrified that Peter did not know what else to say.)

While Peter was still speaking, a bright cloud enveloped them, and they were afraid as they entered the cloud. And a voice from the cloud said, “This is My beloved Son, whom I have chosen and in whom I am well pleased. Listen to HIM!” When the disciples heard this, they fell facedown in terror. Then Jesus came over and touched them. “Get up,” He said. “Do not be afraid.” And when they looked up, they saw no one except Jesus. The disciples kept this to themselves, and in those days they did not tell anyone what they had seen.

My Thoughts 

Have you ever searched for something only to realize it was right in front of you? My wife, Deb, often gently points out the obvious when I’m hunting for my reading glasses—usually perched on my head. “Oh, duh!” It’s a humbling moment when someone highlights what we’ve overlooked. I believe that’s what God the Father was doing for Jesus’ disciples during the Transfiguration.

Picture this: Jesus, radiant like a beacon, standing with Moses and Elijah. The disciples are awestruck, and honestly, who wouldn’t be? But Peter, unsure of what to say, blurts out, “Master, let’s build three tents—one for You, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” In his excitement, he misses the point.

Then God the Father steps in. A cloud envelops them, and a voice declares, “This is My beloved Son, whom I have chosen and in whom I am well pleased. Listen to HIM!” The message is clear: Jesus is the focus. Not Moses, not Elijah, as great as they were. The Transfiguration is about God’s Son.

The writer of Hebrews echoes this, emphasizing that Jesus, the High Priestly King, surpasses Moses, angels, and all others (Hebrews 1:1-14, 3:1-6). Today, I find myself constantly redirecting people to the supremacy of Jesus over Paul, Peter, the Apostles, preachers, or anyone else we might elevate.

Do you see this in today’s church? Listen closely to what’s celebrated in some “Christian” circles, and you might notice Jesus is often conspicuously missing. Let’s heed the Father’s words: “This is My beloved Son… Listen to HIM!”

My Story

For decades, I’ve encouraged people, “Read the Gospels every day.” Yes, I believe in reading the whole counsel of God, but before you think I’m minimizing the rest of the Bible, hear me out.

The Gospels offer the clearest picture of Jesus, whose every word came directly from the Father (John 12:49-50). Jesus is our ultimate example of love, life, and service in God’s kingdom (John 5:19, 8:28). As the “exact representation of God” (Hebrews 1:3-4), He reveals the Father like nothing else this side of heaven. Want to know God? Look at Jesus. Want to see humanity as God intended before the fall? Look at Jesus. Want to know Jesus? Read the Gospels.

You might raise some valid points. First, “All Scripture is inspired by God and points to Jesus!” (John 5:39, 2 Timothy 3:16). Absolutely true. But even Scripture acknowledges that some truths are “mysterious” (Colossians 1:26-27) and we see Jesus directly revealing some of them in the Gospels. Second, “Aren’t you pitting Scripture against itself?” Not at all. The writer of Hebrews didn’t undermine Scripture by highlighting Christ’s supremacy over Moses and angels (Hebrews 1:1-14, 3:1-6). Finally, “We learn about Jesus outside the Gospels too!” (Philippians 2:5-11). Correct, but nowhere matches the sheer volume and clarity of the Gospels (John 1:16-18, Matthew 11:27).

So, read the Gospels daily to get to know Jesus better. He’s your Lord and Savior. For the record, I read or listen to the entire Bible about three times every two years—every word matters! But make seeing Jesus in the Gospels a daily priority.

Our Action Plan

Now it’s time for application. Here’s some ideas;

  • Start reading a little of the gospels daily.
  • Teach others to do the same.
  • Memorize these passages, John 1:16-18, 5:19,39, 8:28, 12:49-50, Philippians 2:5-11, Hebrews 1:1-14 & 3:1-6.

In the end, it’s all about Jesus—God’s beloved Son who shows us the Father’s heart. So, grab your Bible, read it all and the Gospels daily. Listen to HIM!

Index for all posts in the Gospel Sync Series

¡Escúchenlo a Él! – #115

¡Bienvenidos de nuevo! Hoy analizaremos los Evangelios de Mateo, Marcos y Lucas para ver cómo Dios Padre ayudó a los discípulos a centrarse en su Hijo.

Comencemos.

Mateo 17:1-8, Marcos 9:2-8, Lucas 9:28-36

Después de unos seis u ocho días, Jesús tomó consigo a Pedro, a Jacobo y a Juan, el hermano de Jacobo, y los llevó aparte a un monte alto para orar. Y mientras oraba, se transfiguró delante de ellos. La apariencia de su rostro cambió y brilló como el sol. Sus vestiduras se volvieron blancas como la luz, más brillantes que cualquier lavandero en la tierra. De repente, dos hombres, Moisés y Elías, comenzaron a hablar con Jesús. Aparecieron en gloria y le hablaron de su partida, que estaba a punto de cumplir en Jerusalén.

Mientras tanto, Pedro y sus compañeros estaban sumidos en el sueño, pero al despertar, vieron la gloria de Jesús y a los dos hombres que estaban con él. Mientras Moisés y Elías se marchaban, Pedro le dijo a Jesús: «Rabí, Señor, Maestro, es bueno que estemos aquí. Si quieres, podemos hacer tres carpas: una para ti, otra para Moisés y otra para Elías». (Porque todos estaban tan aterrorizados que Pedro no supo qué más decir).

Mientras Pedro aún hablaba, una nube brillante los envolvió, y al entrar en ella, sintieron miedo. Y una voz desde la nube dijo: «Este es mi Hijo amado, a quien he elegido y en quien tengo complacencia. ¡Escúchenlo!». Al oír esto, los discípulos cayeron rostro en tierra aterrorizados. Entonces Jesús se acercó, los tocó y les dijo: «Levántense, no tengan miedo». Y cuando levantaron la vista, no vieron a nadie más que a Jesús. Los discípulos guardaron silencio, y en aquellos días no contaron a nadie lo que habían visto.

Mis Pensamientos

¿Alguna vez has buscado algo solo para darte cuenta de que estaba justo frente a ti? Mi esposa, Deb, a menudo me señala con delicadeza lo obvio cuando busco mis gafas, generalmente puestas en mi cabeza. “¡Oh, claro!” Es un momento de humildad cuando alguien resalta lo que hemos pasado por alto. Creo que eso es lo que Dios Padre estaba haciendo por los discípulos de Jesús durante la Transfiguración.

Imagínate esto: Jesús, radiante como un faro, de pie con Moisés y Elías. Los discípulos están asombrados, y honestamente, ¿quién no lo estaría? Pero Pedro, sin saber qué decir, exclama: “Maestro, construyamos tres tiendas: una para ti, una para Moisés y una para Elías”. En su emoción, no entiende lo importante.

Entonces Dios Padre interviene. Una nube los envuelve y una voz declara: “Este es mi Hijo amado, a quien he elegido y en quien tengo complacencia. ¡Escúchenlo!”. El mensaje es claro: Jesús es el centro. Ni Moisés ni Elías, por muy grandes que fueran. La Transfiguración se trata del Hijo de Dios.

El escritor de Hebreos hace eco de esto, enfatizando que Jesús, el Rey Sumo Sacerdote, supera a Moisés, a los ángeles y a todos los demás (Hebreos 1:1-14, 3:1-6). Hoy en día, me encuentro constantemente redireccionando a la gente a la supremacía de Jesús sobre Pablo, los apóstoles, los predicadores o cualquier otra persona a quien podamos elevar.

¿Ves esto en la iglesia actual? Presta atención a lo que se celebra en algunos círculos “cristianos”, y quizás notes que Jesús a menudo brilla por su ausencia. Prestemos atención a las palabras del Padre: “Este es mi Hijo amado… ¡Escúchalo!”

Mi Historia

Durante décadas, he animado a la gente a leer los Evangelios todos los días. Sí, creo en leer todo el consejo de Dios, pero antes de que piensen que estoy minimizando el resto de la Biblia, escúchenme.

Los Evangelios ofrecen la imagen más clara de Jesús, cuyas palabras vinieron directamente del Padre (Juan 12:49-50). Jesús es nuestro máximo ejemplo de amor, vida y servicio en el reino de Dios (Juan 5:19, 8:28). Como la “representación exacta de Dios” (Hebreos 1:3-4), revela al Padre como nadie más en este lado del cielo. ¿Quieren conocer a Dios? Observen a Jesús. ¿Quieren ver a la humanidad como Dios la concibió antes de la caída? Observen a Jesús. ¿Quieren conocer a Jesús? Lean los Evangelios.

Podrían plantear algunos puntos válidos. Primero: “¡Toda la Escritura es inspirada por Dios y apunta a Jesús!” (Juan 5:39, 1 Timoteo 3:16). Totalmente cierto. Pero incluso la Escritura reconoce que algunas verdades son “misteriosas” (Colosenses 1:26-27) y vemos a Jesús revelar directamente algunas de ellas en los Evangelios. En segundo lugar, “¿No estás contradiciendo la Escritura?”. Para nada. El escritor de Hebreos no menospreció la Escritura al destacar la supremacía de Cristo sobre Moisés y los ángeles (Hebreos 1:1-14, 3:1-6). Finalmente, “¡También aprendemos sobre Jesús fuera de los Evangelios!” (Filipenses 2:5-11). Correcto, pero en ningún otro lugar se compara con la gran cantidad y claridad de los Evangelios (Juan 1:16-18, Mateo 11:27).

Así que, lee los Evangelios a diario para acercarte más a Jesús, tu Señor y Salvador. Para que conste, leo o escucho la Biblia completa unas tres veces cada dos años; ¡cada palabra importa! Pero haz de los Evangelios y ver a Jesús mismo una prioridad diaria.

Nuestro Plan de Acción

Ahora es momento de aplicarlo. Aquí tienes algunas ideas:

Empieza a leer un poco de los Evangelios a diario.

Enseña a otros a hacer lo mismo.

Memoriza estos pasajes: Juan 1:16-18, 5:19,39, 8:28, 12:49-50, Filipenses 2:5-11, Hebreos 1:1-14 y 3:1-6.

Al final, todo se trata de Jesús, el Hijo amado de Dios que nos muestra el corazón del Padre. Así que, toma tu Biblia, léela completa y los Evangelios a diario. ¡Escúchalo!

Si ve un problema importante en la traducción, envíeme una corrección por correo electrónico a charleswood1@gmail.com

The Calling – Chapter 35 – The Lab

Link to all Chapters – Text & Audio

Accordingly, whatever you have said in the dark will be heard in the light, and what you have whispered in the inner rooms will be proclaimed upon the housetops.

Luke 12:3

The Grim Circle

The cabin’s lone table groaned under the weight of four hunched figures, their shadows flickering against the log walls as the fire spat embers into the dim. Two days of recon had left Wade, Kristen, Jay, and Mayumi hollow-eyed but wired, their voices overlapping in a tangle of exhaustion and urgency. The slate between them bore a fresh sketch—a perfect circle, twenty feet high, jagged with Skravak bones, a single ten-meter gap yawning like a wound. In the center of it, a rough sketch of a comm array, its dishes frozen mid-shift, loomed over their words.

Wade leaned forward, elbows planted on the table, his pulse pistol a silent sentinel at his hip. “Two days watching that thing, and I still can’t square it,” he said, his voice low and deliberate, the cadence of a man wrestling with the impossible. “A perimeter of Skravak skeletons—stacked, not scattered—twenty feet of calcified menace, precise as a bulkhead. And that access point—ten meters wide, clean-edged, leading to a door that’s been open so long the dust’s a carpet.”

Kristen tapped the slate, her finger tracing the circle’s arc, her brow furrowed under a streak of alien dirt. “It’s not random, Wade,” she said, her tone sharp with conviction. “Those bones aren’t wind-piled—someone, something, built that wall or stopped them in their tracks. And the door? Decades, maybe centuries, untouched. No tracks, no wind-shift. Whatever happened here, it’s been dead a long time.”

Jay snorted, slumping back with a restless twitch, his hands drumming the table’s edge. “Dead, sure, but not quiet,” he said, his voice carrying a jagged edge of unease. “That comm array’s alive—six-hour shifts, regular as a chronometer. We watched it tilt yesterday, sunlight glinting off the main dish like a beacon. Mechanical as all get out, but Mayumi’s scanner says it’s mute—no signal, no EM pulse. Just gears grinding for nobody.”

Mayumi nodded, her sharp eyes flicking to the scanner resting beside her—a battered relic of their scout ship, its screen cracked but glowing faintly. “He’s right,” she said, her words clipped, precise, a technician’s clarity cutting through the murk. “I ran a full sweep. Nothing. No carrier wave, no handshake protocol. It’s a ghost system, cycling on a timer, built to talk to the stars but saying zilch. Tech like that doesn’t just sit idle—not without purpose.”

Wade scrubbed a hand over his stubbled jaw, his gaze narrowing as he stared at the slate’s skeletal ring. “Purpose is the kicker,” he muttered, half to himself. “Skravak don’t build like this—perimeters, yeah, but not art projects. Stack a wall of their own dead? That’s not their style—too organized, too… human. And that array—human design, no question. Clean lines, modular mounts. But it’s old, outdated. A century behind the rigs we’ve seen on their ships.”

Kristen’s hand brushed his arm, a fleeting anchor, before she leaned in, her voice dropping low. “Old, but powered,” she said. “That hum we caught—faint, steady, like a reactor on standby. Whatever’s feeding it hasn’t quit in all this time. And the door—open, inviting, but no one’s walked through. It’s a trap, a tomb, or a time capsule. Pick your poison.”

Jay barked a laugh, short and bitter, his fingers stilling on the table. “Tomb’s my bet,” he said. “Skravak bones outside, human tech inside? Sounds like a last stand—some poor losers got overrun, left their toys running. But if it’s a trap, who’s it for? Us? Something else? That array’s ticking like it’s waiting.”

Mayumi’s frown deepened, her mind visibly churning as she tapped the scanner’s edge. “Waiting’s the problem,” she said. “No signal doesn’t mean no function. Could be a relay—dormant, coded, something we can’t ping without the right key. Or it’s broadcasting on a band we don’t have. Point is, it’s active, and we’re blind to why. That’s not frozen in time—that’s poised.”

Wade straightened, his eyes sweeping the crew—his wife, his friends, his lifeline on this hostile paradise moon. “Poised or not, we’re not cracking it from here,” he said, his tone firming into command. “Two days recon gave us the shape—circle, door, array—but no answers. We’ve got a site that’s half mausoleum, half machine, and it’s been sitting there longer than any of us have been breathing. Splitting up’s off the table—too many unknowns, too little firepower. We go in together, all four of us.”

Kristen nodded, her gaze locking with his, a Ranger’s agreement layered over a wife’s trust. “Together’s the only play,” she said. “Pairs can’t cover that gap—ten meters is a kill zone if anything’s watching. Four sets of eyes, two pistols, bows for backup. We move slow, sweep it, figure out what we’re dealing with.”

Jay grinned, a flicker of his usual fire sparking through the tension. “Fine by me,” he said. “I’m itching to see inside that door—bones outside, secrets in. Just don’t ask me to wipe my feet on the welcome mat.”

Mayumi squeezed his arm, her lips twitching faintly before she turned serious again. “We need a plan beyond stepping in,” she said. “That array’s the key—mechanical or not, it’s the heartbeat. We disable it first, cut any chance of it waking up something we can’t handle. Then we dig.”

Wade tapped the slate once, decisive, the sound sharp in the quiet. “Agreed,” he said. “We pack light, move at dawn. Array first—kill its clock if we can. Then we search. No heroics, no risks we don’t have to take.” He paused, his voice softening as he met their eyes. “And we stick tight. Whatever built that circle, whatever left that door open, it’s not getting us cheap.”

Commo Down

The alien dawn broke in muted pinks and reds, casting long shadows across the skeletal circle as Wade led the crew toward the ten-meter gap. Their boots whispered over the mossy ground, each step measured, bows at the ready and pulse pistols gripped tight. The wall of Skravak bones loomed twenty feet high on either side—ribcages and skulls piled in a random tangle, a grim testament to some long-forgotten surge. Wade’s eyes narrowed as he caught two small probes, each a meter tall, jutting from the soil at the gap’s edges like silent sentinels. Their matte-black casings gleamed faintly, unmarred by time. Then he noticed one every ten meters in perfect alignment with the skeletal circle.

“Probes,” he murmured, voice barely above a breath, signaling a halt with a raised fist. “Flanking the entrance. Mayumi—sweep ‘em.”

Mayumi crouched low, her scanner humming faintly as she angled it toward the devices. Her brow furrowed, fingers dancing over the cracked screen. “Nothing,” she said, her tone clipped, analytical. “No power, no emissions—dead as the bones. Could be sensors, dormant or burned out. We’re blind either way.”

Wade edged closer, his gaze flicking between the probes and the half-open door beyond—it looks like these probes had something to do with these dead Skravak…all except this gap. This part of their perimeter failed I would guess.”

“That would be some handy tech for the fight, we should retrieve one of the probes when we have time.” Mayumi said, her voice steady but taut. “Let’s not wake anything up.”

“Single file, slow.” Wade said, “I’ll take point.”

His pulse pistol a steady weight in his hand as he advanced, the crew falling in behind—Kristen, then Mayumi, with Jay bringing up the rear. The gap stretched wide, a kill zone if anything stirred, but the silence held, broken only by the faint crunch of dust underfoot. They reached the door, a slab of alloy wedged ajar, dust piled against its base like a gray tide and its surface pitted with age. Wade nudged it with his boot. It creaked faintly, revealing a sliver of dimness within. The air wafted out—stale, dry, with a hint of metal, but no rot, no death-stink to gag them.

“Stale, not foul,” Wade said, peering inside. “Lights are low—our eyes’ll adjust. Let’s move in, stay tight.”

They slipped through, the half-open door scraping the floor as they passed. The interior unfolded in shadows—desks overturned in a jagged arc, forming a makeshift barricade. Skravak skeletons sprawled across the floor, limbs twisted. Beyond the desks, human remains lay in tatters—military fatigues shredded, bones gouged and splintered. Kristen’s breath caught as she traced the scene, her mind piecing it together.

“Fighting position,” she said, nodding at the desks. “They held here—humans, soldiers. The Skravak broke through and tore ‘em apart. There’s no decay smell—means it’s old, real old.”

Jay’s eyes darted past the carnage, landing on a ladder bolted to the far wall, its rungs leading to a hatch in the ceiling. “Roof access,” he said, a spark of his usual energy cutting through the gloom. “That’s our shot at the comm array—up close, no guessing. We need to see it, kill it if we can.”

Wade’s gaze followed, then swept the room again, assessing. “Good call,” he said, decisive. “But we don’t split wide—two up, two down. Jay, you and me hold security here. Kris, Mayumi, take the roof. Keep your eyes sharp, report everything.”

Kristen gave him a quick nod, her hand brushing his arm—a flicker of trust—before she headed for the ladder, Mayumi close behind. The rungs creaked under their weight, but held, and they pushed the hatch open with a groan. Cold air rushed down as they emerged onto the roof, the comm array sprawling before them—six dishes, each twentyfive feet across, their surfaces dulled by decades of neglect. The main reflector gleamed faintly, frozen mid-shift, its mechanical hum a low pulse in the stillness.

Mayumi knelt beside the nearest dish, her scanner sweeping its base. “Six-inch cable,” she said, tracing a thick line from the dish’s control link to a central feed. “Runs to the hub—twist-lock connector, simple design. Unplug it here, it’s death to the system.”

Kristen crouched beside her, testing the cable’s fit with a firm twist. It resisted, then gave with a soft click, the dish’s hum fading to silence. “Old tech, but smart,” she said, her voice low. “One down—five to go. If this cuts the cycle, we’ve got control.”

They moved methodically, dish to dish, unplugging each cable with a practiced turn. The roof grew quieter with every disconnection, the mechanical heartbeat slowing to a stop. Mayumi paused at the last one, her sharp eyes meeting Kristen’s. “No signal before, no power now,” she said. “If it was talking to something, it’s mute—unless there’s a backup we can’t see.”

“Better than guessing,” Kristen replied, straightening. “Let’s tell the boys.”

They descended the ladder, dust motes swirling in their wake, and found Wade and Jay still posted—Wade near the door, pistol ready, Jay scanning the room’s shadows. Kristen stepped off the rungs, her voice cutting the quiet. “Array’s down,” she said. “Six cables, all unplugged—simple twist-locks at the base. No hum, no motion. It’s a corpse now.”

Wade’s shoulders eased a fraction, though his grip on the pistol didn’t slacken. “Good work,” he said, his tone warm but firm. “No backup buzz?”

“None we caught,” Mayumi said, joining them. “Scanner’s clean—could be deeper systems, but the dishes are offline. Step one’s done.”

Jay grinned, a flicker of relief breaking his tension. “One less thing twitching out there,” he said. “Now what—dig in here, or haul something back?”

Wade’s eyes lingered on the human skeletons, then flicked to the hatch. “We’ve cut the voice,” he said. “Next, we find its brain. Let’s look for the hub—something we can move. Answers don’t stay here—they come with us.”

The crew tightened their formation, the silenced array above a small victory in the vast unknown. The room’s grim history pressed close, but they’d taken the first swing—and landed it.

They pressed into the hall in the rear of the facility. The crew feeling a silence so thick it pressed against their ears—no clatter, no hum, just the faint echo of their own steps. The hall emptied into a sprawling maintenance bay, its high ceiling lost in shadow, where stillness clung like damp rot. Vehicles gouged with claw marks, their tires dry-rotted and rims on the floor. But the real story lay in the fallen. A soldier’s skeleton slumped over the hood of an ATV, helmet cracked. Nearby, a mechanic in shredded coveralls clutched a wrench, skull caved in, his other hand frozen on a pulse rifle with a drained cell. Skravak skeletons sprawled in heaps, spines arched, claws sunk into the floor as if halted mid-lunge. A toppled tool cart spilled wrenches and bolts, glinting dully beside a scientist’s corpse—her white coat splayed like wings, a data slate clutched to her chest, its screen black and shattered. The air hung heavy, unstirred for decades, the silence screaming of a stand that ended in slaughter.

Log Retrieval

The facility’s corridors stretched before the crew like the veins of some ancient beast, dim and silent under flickering emergency lights. Wade took point, his pulse pistol a steady extension of his arm, its faint hum a lifeline in the gloom. Kristen flanked him, bow at the ready but more relaxed, while Mayumi and Jay followed, her scanner buzzing softly and his eyes darting to every shadow. The air hung heavy—stale, metallic, tinged with the dust of decades—but the absence of decay kept their nerves on edge. Two days of recon had brought them here, but the sprawling lab complex defied quick answers.

“Too big,” Wade muttered, pausing at a junction where three halls branched off, each lined with sealed doors. “Weeks to clear this place—months, maybe. No power, no shortcuts. We’re picking needles from a haystack.”

Kristen peered into the nearest room through a cracked viewport—test tubes glinted faintly, flanked by cages sized for Skravak and smaller Earth creatures, their bars rusted but intact, starved carcusses inside. “Bioengineering,” she said, her voice low, analytical. “Look at this—vats, gene-splicers, the works. They were cooking something here, and not just Skravak mods.”

Jay nudged open another door with his boot, revealing a chamber of synthetic printers and half-assembled machinery—sleek, but dated. “Synth lab,” he said, a wry edge to his tone. “Military-grade, too—those are pulse-rifle casings, old patterns. Century behind what we’ve seen on Skravak ships, but still nasty in its day.”

Mayumi’s scanner swept the room, its faint glow casting her face in sharp relief. “Don’t touch anything,” she said, her voice cutting through the quiet with a technician’s precision. “Last time we poked Skravak AI, it woke up—self-protect mode, locked us out, nearly killed us. This place might be dormant, but it’s not dead. One wrong move, and we’re lit up for anything listening.”

Wade nodded, his jaw tight as they pressed deeper. The halls gave way to more grim tableaux—soldiers in tattered fatigues, skeletons slumped against walls, rifles still clutched in bony hands. Scientists and lab techs lay scattered, white coats stained with long-dried blood, while Skravak remains sprawled among them, claws frozen mid-strike. The story was clear: a massacre, sudden and brutal, locked in time.

“Plenty of hardware,” Wade said, eyeing a soldier’s rifle—a heavy, blocky design, its barrel pitted with age. “We could grab one and boost our firepower. We’re thin as it is.”

Jay snorted, crouching beside a fallen trooper to inspect the weapon. “Pass,” he said, shaking his head. “These relics are a hundred years past their prime—barrels corroded, power cells probably brittle. Pull the trigger, and it’s as likely to blow your head off as fire straight.”

Kristen paused at a desk, her fingers hovering over a foil-wrapped bar—its faded label proclaiming it a candy ration, a century old. She smirked faintly, then pulled back. “Tempting,” she said, “but I’m not that desperate. Focus—logs are the prize. We need what this place knew, not its snacks.”

“Logs mean comms,” Mayumi said, her sharp eyes already roving ahead. “Central server’s our bet—something tied to that array. If there’s a brain here, it’s got the memory.” She led them on, her scanner guiding the way through a maze of labs and death until they reached a reinforced door, its panel dark but intact.

Inside, the communication room was deathly silent—no power, but the promise of secrets. Consoles lined the walls, screens blank, while a squat, rectangular unit sat at the center—thirty centimeters long, twenty wide, fifteen deep, its matte-gray casing scuffed and etched with a faded serial code. Mayumi knelt beside it, her scanner confirming its purpose. “Comm hub,” she said, her voice steady but edged with excitement. “Shoebox-sized, but heavy—encrypted drives inside, I’d bet my life on it. This is the log keeper.”

Wade crouched beside her, his gaze tracing the device’s ports. “No lights or juice running,” he said. “Is it safe to pull?”

“Safe as we can make it,” Mayumi replied, her fingers tracing a bundle of cables to their connection points. “No live circuits—its dormant but not dead. We can take it whole, crack it back at camp. No risks here.”

Kristen and Jay kept watch as Mayumi worked, her hands deft and methodical, unplugging the hub with a soft click. She hefted it—compact, but dense with potential—and tucked it under her arm. “Got it,” she said. “Treasure and threat in one. Let’s move.”

Hub’s Whisper

The march back to camp was tense and silent, with the hub resting quietly in Mayumi’s firm grasp. The skeletal circle loomed behind them as they crossed the ten-meter gap, probes still dormant. As they wearily strowed into camp, the cabin’s log walls greeted them like a fortress. Inside, they cleared the table, rigging salvaged scout ship gear—auxiliary batteries and a cracked display—around the hub. Mayumi connected the final lead, her hands steady despite the stakes.

“Moment of truth,” she said, her voice low, meeting each pair of eyes—Kristen’s resolve, Jay’s restless spark, Wade’s quiet confidence. “This thing’s a century old, but it’s got a story. Logs’ll tell us what slaughtered this place—and maybe what’s coming for us.”

She powered the setup, the display flickering to life with a faint whine. Lines of encrypted text scrolled briefly, unreadable yet tantalizing. “It’s intact,” she said, a rare grin tugging her lips. “Data’s here—locked, but I’ll break it. I’ll start with the last entry and work my way back. This is what I get paid the big bucks for.” The team laughed nervously.

Jay leaned in, anticipation crackling off him. “A window to what—salvation or a bigger mess?”

“Both, maybe,” Kristen said, “Whatever’s in there, it’s ours now. We’ll figure it out together.”

The hub hummed quietly, its secrets poised to spill, and the crew braced for the unraveling—a dark history, an AI’s betrayal, and threats that might stretch beyond this moon. The logs would speak soon, and they’d listen, ready or not.

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Kingdom Kernel #12 – The Only King

The Exclusive Rulership of the LORD Over All the Earth: A Christological Exploration from Zechariah 14:9

Kingdom Kernel Collection

Introduction

Zechariah 14:9 states, “And the LORD will be king over all the earth; in that day the LORD will be the only one, and His name the only one.” This passage encapsulates a pivotal eschatological vision where the LORD’s sovereignty is universally acknowledged. This essay explores the concept of the LORD’s rulership, focusing on “LORD” and its implications for Jesus Christ, emphasizing that His lordship is not merely a future reality but profoundly present in this age, though not yet in its ultimate form.

Etymology and Linguistic Analysis

In Zechariah 14:9, “LORD” translates from the Hebrew YHWH (Strong’s H3068), often pronounced as “Yahweh” (YAH-way), symbolizing God’s eternal and self-existent nature. In the New Testament, this translates to Kyrios (Strong’s G2962) when referring to Jesus, affirming His divine identity and authority (Philippians 2:11). This linguistic connection underscores that the God of the Old Testament is the same as Jesus in the New Testament, highlighting continuity in divine sovereignty.

Theological Significance

The proclamation of YHWH as king over all the earth in Zechariah signifies not only a future hope but also a present reality through Jesus Christ. His lordship is active in this age, influencing the lives of believers through the Holy Spirit and the Church’s mission. This dual aspect of Christ’s reign – present and future – is central to Christian theology, where He is already reigning in the hearts of His followers, even as we await the full manifestation of His kingdom.

Christological Fulfillment

Jesus, recognized as Kyrios, embodies this kingship in both His earthly ministry and His ongoing spiritual presence. Scriptures like Matthew 28:18, where Jesus declares, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me,” affirm His current lordship. His life, death, and resurrection are seen as the inauguration of God’s kingdom on earth, a kingdom that continues to grow and exert influence through the Church.

Implications for Understanding the Kingdom of God

This understanding of Christ’s lordship reveals:

Immediate Applicability: The kingdom’s principles are to be lived out now; justice, love, and peace are to be enacted in the present through His followers individually and corporately as the Church.

Divine Attributes: Christ’s current reign showcases His attributes like wisdom, power, and mercy, which believers are to emulate.

Redemption: His lordship in this age is part of the ongoing redemptive work, transforming individuals and societies.

Transformative Power for Believers

For believers, recognizing Jesus’ lordship in the present:

Guides Daily Living: It shapes ethical decisions, community life, and personal holiness, reflecting the kingdom’s values.

Inspires Mission: The Church is called to proclaim this lordship, making disciples and extending Christ’s reign through love and service.

Provides Hope: Even as we await the ultimate fulfillment, the current reality of Christ’s lordship offers comfort and direction.

Conclusion

The rule and reign of God is manifested through the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit throughout all ages and is past, present, and future (Although not fully exhibited until the end). The lordship of Jesus Christ, as prophesied in Zechariah 14:9, is both a future expectation and a present reality. Through His resurrection, Jesus has already begun His reign, offering a foretaste of the kingdom to come. This dual reality – present yet not fully consummated – informs Christian life, worship, and mission, urging believers to live under His lordship now while anticipating its full revelation in the age to come. Thus, Christ’s kingship bridges the temporal with the eternal, grounding our faith in both the now and the not yet.

Disciple-maker’s Short Story

Flight of Faith

Anne stared out the plane window, the clouds beneath them like a vast canvas being painted by the setting sun. The half-empty cabin hummed with white noise as passengers dozed or worked quietly on laptops.

“I can’t stop thinking about that conversation on our last flight,” Anne said, turning to her mother Mary beside her.

Mary looked up from her Bible. “With the engineering student? James, was it?”

“Yes.” Anne’s voice carried both conviction and concern. “I shared my testimony, told him about God’s love, but I feel like I missed something essential.”

Mary studied her daughter’s troubled expression. “What do you think you missed?”

“I talked about how Jesus loves us and died for us,” Anne said, her fingers tracing the outline of her own Bible in her lap. “But I never clearly explained what the gospel actually demands of us.”

The plane hit a patch of turbulence, causing a momentary tremor through the cabin. The pilot’s calm voice announced they’d be experiencing some “light chop” for the next few minutes.

“You know,” Mary said thoughtfully, “Jesus began His entire ministry with specific words: ‘Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.’ He didn’t start with ‘God loves you and has a wonderful plan for your life.'”

Anne nodded slowly. “Repentance. I didn’t really emphasize that part.”

“It’s become unfashionable,” Mary said. “We want to present a Jesus who only comforts and never confronts. But that’s not the Jesus of Scripture.”

A flight attendant passed by, offering drinks. Both women asked for tea.

“Paul said he declared the whole counsel of God,” Mary continued, turning pages in her Bible until she found Acts 20. “He proclaimed ‘repentance toward God and faith in our Lord Jesus Christ.’ Both elements are essential.”

Anne leaned back in her seat. “So the gospel isn’t just that Jesus died for our sins?”

“That’s central, absolutely. ‘Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures, was buried, and rose again the third day,'” Mary quoted from memory. “But the proper response to that message includes both receiving Him as Savior who forgives and submitting to Him as Lord who commands.”

Outside, the sky was darkening. Anne thought about the discipleship conference they were flying to attend, how much she still had to learn.

“I think I’ve been afraid,” she admitted quietly. “Afraid that if I tell people they need to repent—to turn from sin and submit to Christ as King—they’ll reject the message. It’s easier to just talk about God’s love.”

Mary reached for her daughter’s hand. “The message we’re called to proclaim isn’t primarily about making people comfortable. It’s about calling them to a completely new life under a new King.”

The cabin lights dimmed as several passengers prepared for sleep. In the subtle glow, Anne opened her own Bible to Matthew’s gospel.

“‘From that time Jesus began to preach, saying, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand,”‘” she read aloud softly. “Kingdom. Lordship. Not just forgiveness, but a whole new allegiance.”

Mary smiled. “That’s why Jesus told us to make disciples, not just converts. He calls people to ‘deny themselves, take up their cross daily, and follow Me.’ The gospel is an announcement that the rightful King has come and calls all people everywhere to surrender to His rule.”

Anne sat quietly for a moment, conviction growing. “I need to be clearer next time. The gospel isn’t just that Jesus died for our sins—though He did, praise God. It’s that through His death and resurrection, He’s established His kingdom and calls everyone to turn from sin and self-rule to follow Him as Lord.”

“That’s right,” Mary affirmed. “And that message requires words—clear, bold proclamation. Our kindness might adorn the gospel, but it can never replace speaking the actual message.”

As the plane continued through the night sky, Anne felt a renewed sense of purpose. The conference awaiting them wasn’t just about strategy or technique—it was about faithfulness to the King’s commission. Next time she had an opportunity to share her faith, she would speak of both the grace of the Savior and the claims of the Lord, calling for the repentance Jesus Himself demanded.

The gospel was good news, but it was also royal news—the announcement of a Kingdom that would never end, under a King who deserved nothing less than complete allegiance.

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