The world feels upside down, like something out of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland or through the looking glass, where right is called wrong and wrong is celebrated as right. We are told murder is evil, unless it happens in the womb or is renamed compassion. We are told to honour our father and mother, unless culture decides they are “toxic” and disposable. We are told free speech matters, unless someone disagrees with what is being said. We are told truth is important, unless the truth becomes uncomfortable. We are told identity is self defined, even when it denies the very reality of how we were created. The world calls this enlightenment. The Bible calls it confusion. Somewhere along the way society removed God, removed moral boundaries, and removed the very foundation that once held things together. Now we live in a culture where feelings often matter more than truth, personal happiness matters more than holiness, and self has become the highest authority. But freedom without truth does not lead to peace. It leads to chaos. When there are no boundaries, everything eventually collapses into confusion because humanity was never meant to govern itself apart from God. We were created to live anchored to truth. Faith is not bondage. God’s ways are not restrictions designed to harm us. They are foundations that keep a society from destroying itself. The further we drift from God, the more unstable the world becomes because removing the Creator from creation never produces life. We do not need more self-expression. We do not need more moral compromise disguised as progress. We do not need a world where everyone creates their own truth. We need Jesus. Not religion without relationship. Not empty tradition. But a return to truth, repentance, wisdom, grace, and the God who gives humanity a foundation strong enough to stand on. Before society pushed God to the margins, the world still had problems because humanity has always struggled with sin. But there was still an understanding that truth existed, that good and evil were real, and that morality mattered.

Many of the most deeply anointed people are often overlooked because they have not spent their lives polishing the outside, promoting their gift, or building an image around themselves. Instead, they have been crushed in the secret place. It is in that hidden place of surrender, prayer, obedience, suffering, and intimacy with God that the “oil” is produced, the kind that carries true spiritual weight. A gift may open a door, but only the anointing can sustain what the gift begins. Gifting and charisma can move emotions, gather crowds, and create a feel good atmosphere. They may impress the mind, entertain people, or draw attention to personality and skill, but they do not always bring lasting transformation. The anointing is different. The oil shifts atmospheres. It breaks burdens. It carries the weight of heaven. Isaiah speaks of this when he says: Isaiah 10:27 The anointing destroys the yoke because it carries the presence and power of God, not merely human ability. An anointed word lands differently. It carries conviction, healing, deliverance, and breakthrough. Long after the moment has passed, its weight still remains in the heart. Gifting often draws attention to the person. People admire the talent, the confidence, the presentation, or the personality behind it. Because of this, identity can easily become tied to performance, recognition, or public affirmation. But true anointing always redirects the glory back to God. Those who carry genuine oil are often unpretentious, humble, and hidden. There is usually an “excellent spirit” about them that speaks louder than outward appearance ever could. They may not always look impressive outwardly, but inwardly they carry something heaven recognises. Gifting can be developed through coaching, practice, discipline, and natural ability. A person can remain highly gifted while privately living a compromised life. But the anointing cannot be manufactured. It is cultivated in the secret place through intimacy with God, prayer, surrender, obedience, and refining. It is formed through crushing. Through dying to self. Through allowing God to deal with the hidden places of the heart.

Unity has always seemed to create a dwelling place for the manifest presence of God throughout Scripture. In 2 Chronicles 5:13–14, when the Temple was dedicated, the worshippers, musicians, singers, and priests were “as one.” Their voices rose together in worship: “For He is good, for His mercy endures forever.” Then the glory cloud filled the Temple so powerfully that the priests could not even stand to minister. What is striking is that the glory came in an atmosphere of unified worship, unified hearts, and unified focus on God. Yet later in Israel’s history, the prophets describe the glory departing from the Temple. In Ezekiel 10, the presence of God leaves because the people had turned to idolatry, corruption, pride, injustice, and divided hearts. The Temple still stood physically, but the hearts of the people had drifted far from God. The issue was never that God lost power. The issue was that the people lost unity in Him. The New Testament continues this same pattern. We are now the Temple of the Holy Spirit 1 Corinthians 3:16, and before Pentecost the disciples were gathered together “with one accord” Acts 2:1. They were praying together, waiting together, seeking God together. Then suddenly the Holy Spirit came in power. Throughout Scripture, unity is repeatedly connected with the blessing and presence of God. Psalm 133 says: “How good and pleasant it is when brothers dwell together in unity for there the Lord commanded the blessing.” It does make you wonder whether much of the weakness in the modern church is not because God has changed, but because His people have become divided by pride, competition, denominations, offence, preferences, and arguments over secondary things. We pray for revival. We pray for power. We pray for healing and restoration. But perhaps revival begins when the people of God humble themselves, forgive one another, and become united again around Jesus instead of around personal agendas. Unity does not mean we agree on every small doctrine or expression.

Some modern thought suggests that God never intended to call the Gentiles, and that this idea only appeared later through the writings of Paul the Apostle. But when you read Scripture carefully, the inclusion of the nations was part of God’s plan from the very beginning. In Genesis 12:3, God tells Abraham: “All peoples on earth will be blessed through you.” Israel was never chosen so the rest of the world would be excluded. They were chosen to become the vessel through which God would reveal Himself to the nations. Even under the Law, provision was made for the “stranger” or foreigner living among Israel. Exodus 12:48–49 and Numbers 15:14–16 show that Gentiles who sought the Lord could participate and stand under the same law as the native-born. Then in 1 Kings 8:41–43, during the dedication of the Temple, King Solomon prays: “Moreover concerning a stranger, that is not of thy people Israel, but cometh out of a far country for thy name’s sake…” Solomon asks God to hear the prayers of foreigners who come seeking Him. Think about that. The Temple itself was intended to be a place where the nations could come and know the God of Israel. The prophets continue this theme. In Isaiah 49:6, God says it is “too small a thing” for His Servant to only restore Israel, but that He would also be “a light to the Gentiles.” Isaiah 56:7 declares: “My house shall be called a house of prayer for all nations.” And when Jesus Christ cleansed the Temple in Matthew 21:13 and Mark 11:17, He quoted this very passage, reaffirming God’s heart for the nations. Even before Paul’s ministry became central, God was already revealing this truth. In Acts 10, Peter receives a vision from God and declares: “God shows no partiality.” From Genesis to the Prophets, from the Temple to the teachings of Jesus, Scripture consistently reveals the same truth: God’s desire was never limited to one nation alone. Israel was chosen uniquely, but the invitation of salvation was always meant to reach the whole world.

As a child, I learnt that you could never let them see the you that you were meant to be. As I grew, I learnt to hide the real me deep inside. Lost in a place I could not see was the me I was meant to be. As I grew older, the masks I used to hide became so skilful no one could look inside. The pain I carried was so real, yet from everyone I could conceal. When I met You, I could no longer hide the me that I had kept deep inside. The masks I wore were many in their array. They helped me live the role I played. Mother. Daughter. Sister. Wife. Each one crafted from the pain I hid inside. Your light broke through and cracked the masks. They were no longer roles to play. You saw me as I truly was, and still You loved me just because. You gave Your all on a broken tree to help me find my real identity. At times still, I may get lost, but You always bring me back to the cross. The masks are broken, my life renewed, and now I can be what You called me to. I no longer need to hide because You are living on my inside. The pain and the hurt are barely there, because Your Spirit now resides. I no longer need to hide. I can be who I truly am. Your love has set me free to be who it is I am called to be.