In Ezekiel’s calling, there is a moment that feels unusual, even symbolic in a way that is difficult to miss.
He is told to eat something.
“Son of man, eat whatever you find here.
Eat this scroll, and go, speak
to the house of Israel” (Ezekiel 3:1).
The instruction is direct.
Not to read it.
Not to carry it.
To eat it.
That raises the question.
Why would a prophet be told
to consume the message
he was meant to deliver?
The scroll itself is described.
“When I looked, behold,
a hand was stretched out to me,
and behold, a scroll of a book was in it.
And he spread it before me.
And it had writing on the
front and on the back,
and there were written on it
words of lamentation and mourning
and woe” (Ezekiel 2:9–10).
The content is not light.
It is not encouragement
in the usual sense.
It is judgment.
Lamentation.
Mourning.
Woe.
This is what Ezekiel is being given.
And this is what he is told to eat.
That is where the detail begins to press further.
The act is not about information.
Ezekiel is not being prepared
to repeat words he has heard.
He is being drawn into them.
“To eat” is to take something in.
To receive it
not only at the level of speech,
but at the level of being.
The message is not external.
It becomes internal.
It is no longer something
he carries in his hand.
It is something
he carries within.
The text then adds something unexpected.
“So I opened my mouth,
and he gave me this scroll to eat.
And he said to me,
‘Son of man, feed your
belly with this scroll…’
Then I ate it,
and it was in my mouth
as sweet as honey”
(Ezekiel 3:2–3).
The content was heavy.
But the taste was sweet.
That contrast matters.
What Ezekiel received
was not pleasant in message,
but it was right in source.
It came from God.
And what comes from God,
even when it carries judgment,
is not empty.
It is true.
It is fitting.
That is what Ezekiel tastes.
Not the weight of the message alone,
but the goodness of the One
who gave it.
After this,
he is told to go and speak.
But now,
he does not speak
as someone repeating a message.
He speaks as someone
who has received it.
Who has taken it in.
Who has been shaped by it.
Reading the passage carefully,
the command to eat the scroll
is not an isolated act.
It defines the kind of prophet Ezekiel will be.
He will not stand at a distance
from the word he speaks.
He will embody it.
Carry it.
Feel its weight.
Theologically, the moment shows
that God’s word
is not meant to remain external.
It is not only to be delivered.
It is to be received.
To the point
that it becomes part
of the one who speaks it.
And that is where the passage
quietly points forward.
Because later,
the Word of God
would not only be written
on a scroll.
It would take on flesh.
Not consumed by a prophet,
but dwelling among people.
And those who would follow Him
would not be told
to eat a scroll,
but they would still be called
to receive His word
in a way that goes beyond hearing.
Not just spoken.
Not just known.
But taken in.
So that what is spoken
is no longer separate
from the one who speaks it.
And in that way,
Ezekiel’s act did not stand alone.
It revealed something
about how God’s word works.
Not around a person.
But within them.
~Undaunted Disciple
He is told to eat something.
“Son of man, eat whatever you find here.
Eat this scroll, and go, speak
to the house of Israel” (Ezekiel 3:1).
The instruction is direct.
Not to read it.
Not to carry it.
To eat it.
That raises the question.
Why would a prophet be told
to consume the message
he was meant to deliver?
The scroll itself is described.
“When I looked, behold,
a hand was stretched out to me,
and behold, a scroll of a book was in it.
And he spread it before me.
And it had writing on the
front and on the back,
and there were written on it
words of lamentation and mourning
and woe” (Ezekiel 2:9–10).
The content is not light.
It is not encouragement
in the usual sense.
It is judgment.
Lamentation.
Mourning.
Woe.
This is what Ezekiel is being given.
And this is what he is told to eat.
That is where the detail begins to press further.
The act is not about information.
Ezekiel is not being prepared
to repeat words he has heard.
He is being drawn into them.
“To eat” is to take something in.
To receive it
not only at the level of speech,
but at the level of being.
The message is not external.
It becomes internal.
It is no longer something
he carries in his hand.
It is something
he carries within.
The text then adds something unexpected.
“So I opened my mouth,
and he gave me this scroll to eat.
And he said to me,
‘Son of man, feed your
belly with this scroll…’
Then I ate it,
and it was in my mouth
as sweet as honey”
(Ezekiel 3:2–3).
The content was heavy.
But the taste was sweet.
That contrast matters.
What Ezekiel received
was not pleasant in message,
but it was right in source.
It came from God.
And what comes from God,
even when it carries judgment,
is not empty.
It is true.
It is fitting.
That is what Ezekiel tastes.
Not the weight of the message alone,
but the goodness of the One
who gave it.
After this,
he is told to go and speak.
But now,
he does not speak
as someone repeating a message.
He speaks as someone
who has received it.
Who has taken it in.
Who has been shaped by it.
Reading the passage carefully,
the command to eat the scroll
is not an isolated act.
It defines the kind of prophet Ezekiel will be.
He will not stand at a distance
from the word he speaks.
He will embody it.
Carry it.
Feel its weight.
Theologically, the moment shows
that God’s word
is not meant to remain external.
It is not only to be delivered.
It is to be received.
To the point
that it becomes part
of the one who speaks it.
And that is where the passage
quietly points forward.
Because later,
the Word of God
would not only be written
on a scroll.
It would take on flesh.
Not consumed by a prophet,
but dwelling among people.
And those who would follow Him
would not be told
to eat a scroll,
but they would still be called
to receive His word
in a way that goes beyond hearing.
Not just spoken.
Not just known.
But taken in.
So that what is spoken
is no longer separate
from the one who speaks it.
And in that way,
Ezekiel’s act did not stand alone.
It revealed something
about how God’s word works.
Not around a person.
But within them.
~Undaunted Disciple
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“Bring quickly the best robe, and put it on him, and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet” (Luke 15:22).
Three things were given.
A robe.
A ring.
Sandals.
At first, they could be read
as random simple gestures of welcome.
But the detail was not random.
Each item carried meaning
within that setting.
The robe came first.
And not just any robe.
“The best robe.”
In a household,
this would not have belonged
to a servant, it represented honor.
To clothe the son in it
was not merely to cover him.
It was to restore dignity.
He had returned
planning to be treated
as hired help, but before
he could complete that request,
he was clothed as a son again.
The robe answered his condition.
Not with negotiation,
but with restoration.
Then came the ring.
In that context, a ring
was not only decorative.
It often functioned as a sign of authority.
In their time, it serves as a family seal.
Something that could represent the household.
So to place a ring on his hand
was to give him back
a place within the family.
Not at the edge.
Not under probation.
But within the structure
of belonging.
The son who had taken his inheritance
and left was not reintroduced
as a servant, he was reinstated.
And the ring marked that.
Then the sandals.
This detail is easy to pass over.
But in that setting, servants
often went barefoot.
Sons did not, so to put sandals
on his feet was to draw a visible distinction.
He would not stand in the house
as one who labored under it.
He would stand in it
as one who belonged to it.
So the sequence mattered.
The son returned
with a reduced identity.
He spoke in terms of unworthiness.
He expected distance.
But the father responded
with visible restoration.
Robe.
Ring.
Sandals.
Each one answered
what the son believed
he had lost.
Reading the passage carefully,
these were not rewards
for repentance.
They were expressions
of relationship.
They were given
before anything was proven.
Before time had passed.
Before change could be demonstrated.
The father did not rebuild
the son’s place gradually.
He restored it immediately.
Theologically, the moment
did not merely describe
how a son earns his way back.
It showed how the father received him.
Not by lowering the standard,
but by reestablishing the relationship.
And that is where the passage
quietly pointed forward.
Because later, restoration
would again be given
not in parts, but as a whole.
Not earned over time,
but granted through grace.
What the son received outwardly,
covering, belonging, standing,
would later be spoken of
in terms that went deeper.
Clothed.
Received.
Brought near.
So the details remained.
Not as decoration.
But as explanation.
The robe did not only cover him.
The ring did not only adorn him.
The sandals did not only prepare him.
They reminded him of who he was.
Not based on where he had been,
but based on whose he was.
And that was what the father
restored before anything else.
Because more than the precious wealth he lost in the faraway country because of lavish and sinful living, there was something far more precious that he lost grip of, his identity as his father's son.
~Undaunted Disciple
Three things were given.
A robe.
A ring.
Sandals.
At first, they could be read
as random simple gestures of welcome.
But the detail was not random.
Each item carried meaning
within that setting.
The robe came first.
And not just any robe.
“The best robe.”
In a household,
this would not have belonged
to a servant, it represented honor.
To clothe the son in it
was not merely to cover him.
It was to restore dignity.
He had returned
planning to be treated
as hired help, but before
he could complete that request,
he was clothed as a son again.
The robe answered his condition.
Not with negotiation,
but with restoration.
Then came the ring.
In that context, a ring
was not only decorative.
It often functioned as a sign of authority.
In their time, it serves as a family seal.
Something that could represent the household.
So to place a ring on his hand
was to give him back
a place within the family.
Not at the edge.
Not under probation.
But within the structure
of belonging.
The son who had taken his inheritance
and left was not reintroduced
as a servant, he was reinstated.
And the ring marked that.
Then the sandals.
This detail is easy to pass over.
But in that setting, servants
often went barefoot.
Sons did not, so to put sandals
on his feet was to draw a visible distinction.
He would not stand in the house
as one who labored under it.
He would stand in it
as one who belonged to it.
So the sequence mattered.
The son returned
with a reduced identity.
He spoke in terms of unworthiness.
He expected distance.
But the father responded
with visible restoration.
Robe.
Ring.
Sandals.
Each one answered
what the son believed
he had lost.
Reading the passage carefully,
these were not rewards
for repentance.
They were expressions
of relationship.
They were given
before anything was proven.
Before time had passed.
Before change could be demonstrated.
The father did not rebuild
the son’s place gradually.
He restored it immediately.
Theologically, the moment
did not merely describe
how a son earns his way back.
It showed how the father received him.
Not by lowering the standard,
but by reestablishing the relationship.
And that is where the passage
quietly pointed forward.
Because later, restoration
would again be given
not in parts, but as a whole.
Not earned over time,
but granted through grace.
What the son received outwardly,
covering, belonging, standing,
would later be spoken of
in terms that went deeper.
Clothed.
Received.
Brought near.
So the details remained.
Not as decoration.
But as explanation.
The robe did not only cover him.
The ring did not only adorn him.
The sandals did not only prepare him.
They reminded him of who he was.
Not based on where he had been,
but based on whose he was.
And that was what the father
restored before anything else.
Because more than the precious wealth he lost in the faraway country because of lavish and sinful living, there was something far more precious that he lost grip of, his identity as his father's son.
~Undaunted Disciple
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Hey friends! Reply to this message with any music requests. I am interested to see what your favorites are. I will try to find them and post them! ❤️
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“And said, By myself have I sworn, saith the LORD, for because thou hast done this thing, and hast not withheld thy son, thine only son: That in blessing I will bless thee, and in multiplying I will multiply thy seed as the stars of the heaven, and as the sand which is upon the sea shore; and thy seed shall possess the gate of his enemies; And in thy seed shall all the nations of the earth be blessed; because thou hast obeyed my voice.”
Genesis 22:16-18 KJV
Genesis 22:16-18 KJV
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Hank Williams, The Drifting Cowboys - Jesus Remembered Me
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Forwarded from The Narrow Gate
C. H. Spurgeon's
Evening Reading
(April 12th)
"The king's garden." — Nehemiah 3:15
Mention of the king's garden by Nehemiah brings to mind the paradise which the King of kings prepared for Adam. Sin has utterly ruined that fair abode of all delights, and driven forth the children of men to till the ground, which yields thorns and briers unto them. My soul, remember the fall, for it was thy fall. Weep much because the Lord of love was so shamefully ill-treated by the head of the human race, of which thou art a member, as undeserving as any. Behold how dragons and demons dwell on this fair earth, which once was a garden of delights.
See yonder another King's garden, which the King waters with His bloody sweat-Gethsemane, whose bitter herbs are sweeter far to renewed souls than even Eden's luscious fruits. There the mischief of the serpent in the first garden was undone: there the curse was lifted from earth, and borne by the woman's promised seed. My soul, bethink thee much of the agony and the passion; resort to the garden of the olive-press, and view thy great Redeemer rescuing thee from thy lost estate. This is the garden of gardens indeed, wherein the soul may see the guilt of sin and the power of love, two sights which surpass all others.
Is there no other King's garden? Yes, my heart, thou art, or shouldst be such. How do the flowers flourish? Do any choice fruits appear? Does the King walk within, and rest in the bowers of my spirit? Let me see that the plants are trimmed and watered, and the mischievous foxes hunted out. Come, Lord, and let the heavenly wind blow at Thy coming, that the spices of Thy garden may flow abroad. Nor must I forget the King's garden of the church. O Lord, send prosperity unto it. Rebuild her walls, nourish her plants, ripen her fruits, and from the huge wilderness, reclaim the barren waste, and make thereof "a King's garden."
Evening Reading
(April 12th)
"The king's garden." — Nehemiah 3:15
Mention of the king's garden by Nehemiah brings to mind the paradise which the King of kings prepared for Adam. Sin has utterly ruined that fair abode of all delights, and driven forth the children of men to till the ground, which yields thorns and briers unto them. My soul, remember the fall, for it was thy fall. Weep much because the Lord of love was so shamefully ill-treated by the head of the human race, of which thou art a member, as undeserving as any. Behold how dragons and demons dwell on this fair earth, which once was a garden of delights.
See yonder another King's garden, which the King waters with His bloody sweat-Gethsemane, whose bitter herbs are sweeter far to renewed souls than even Eden's luscious fruits. There the mischief of the serpent in the first garden was undone: there the curse was lifted from earth, and borne by the woman's promised seed. My soul, bethink thee much of the agony and the passion; resort to the garden of the olive-press, and view thy great Redeemer rescuing thee from thy lost estate. This is the garden of gardens indeed, wherein the soul may see the guilt of sin and the power of love, two sights which surpass all others.
Is there no other King's garden? Yes, my heart, thou art, or shouldst be such. How do the flowers flourish? Do any choice fruits appear? Does the King walk within, and rest in the bowers of my spirit? Let me see that the plants are trimmed and watered, and the mischievous foxes hunted out. Come, Lord, and let the heavenly wind blow at Thy coming, that the spices of Thy garden may flow abroad. Nor must I forget the King's garden of the church. O Lord, send prosperity unto it. Rebuild her walls, nourish her plants, ripen her fruits, and from the huge wilderness, reclaim the barren waste, and make thereof "a King's garden."
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Forwarded from Winning the Lost (Nikki Larsen)
YouTube
All Our Anxieties - Part 1 – Dr. Charles Stanley
The things we want in life can take possession of us if we're not careful. If that happens, anxiety will enter our lives in the form of fear, worry or other paralyzing emotions. Dr. Stanley teaches how to find the relief you need from anxiety.
For more messages…
For more messages…
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"But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness,
goodness, faith,Meekness, temperance: against such there is no law.
And they that are Christ's have crucified the flesh with the affections
and lusts. If we live in the Spirit, let us also walk in the Spirit.
Let us not be desirous of vain glory, provoking one another,
envying one another.”
Galatians 5:22-26 KJV
goodness, faith,Meekness, temperance: against such there is no law.
And they that are Christ's have crucified the flesh with the affections
and lusts. If we live in the Spirit, let us also walk in the Spirit.
Let us not be desirous of vain glory, provoking one another,
envying one another.”
Galatians 5:22-26 KJV
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Forwarded from Be Ready For The Rapture
👇Lord, help me see my life through Your perspective, not just my own. Teach my heart to value what truly lasts.👇👇
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