Author Allen Frederick

“I Surrender All… or Did I?”

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Allen Frederick
"Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, 
and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind, 
and with all thy strength." (Mark 12:30, KJV)

A Prophetic Op-Ed on Half-Hearted Worship

1. Opening Summary: The Worship Gap We Refuse to Name

We sing “I Surrender All” while clutching our idols. We declare “All to Jesus I freely give” while negotiating terms in secret. Worship has become so polished, so routine, that few pause to ask: “Do I mean this?”

We critique the theology of songs from Bethel, Hillsong, and Elevation, yet ignore the theology of our own hearts. We dissect lyrics for doctrinal purity but never examine the disconnect between our lips and our lives.

It’s the same pattern Scripture exposes again and again:

  • Israel sang and danced at Sinai, then built a golden calf.
  • They praised God for deliverance, then longed for Egypt’s leeks and melons.
  • They shouted “Hosanna!”, then cried “Crucify Him!” days later.
  • We sing “I Surrender All”, then live “I Surrender What’s Convenient.”

And still, the Spirit asks:

“Do you love Me?”
“Do you really love Me?”

This op-ed isn’t about worship styles—it’s about worship substance. It’s not a critique of music—it’s a confrontation of motive. It’s time to stop pretending and start repenting.

2. All to Jesus I surrender…

We sing it with trembling lips and lifted hands. But heaven hears the truth beneath the melody: “I surrender some.”

“You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.” (Mark 12:30)
“If anyone would come after Me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow Me.” (Luke 9:23)

All. Daily. No turning back. These are not poetic suggestions—they are the terms of discipleship.

3. All to Him I freely give…

Freely? Or conditionally?

“When you make a vow to God, do not delay to fulfill it… It is better not to vow than to make a vow and not fulfill it.” (Ecclesiastes 5:4–5)

Singing this hymn without intent to obey is not just emotional exaggeration—it’s spiritual dishonesty. It’s laying a gift at the altar with strings still tied to it.

4. Worldly pleasures all forsaken…

We say we’ve forsaken the world, but our appetites betray us.

“Do not love the world or the things in the world.” (1 John 2:15)
“We remember the fish we ate in Egypt… the cucumbers, the melons, the leeks, the onions, and the garlic.” (Numbers 11:5)

Israel was free, but their cravings were still enslaved. Lot’s wife looked back and was frozen in judgment (Genesis 19:26). The Laodiceans were lukewarm, and Jesus said He would spit them out (Revelation 3:16).

“No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.” (Luke 9:62)

5. A Personal Warning

I recall a homeowner once asking me to dedicate their house to the Lord. Before I could speak the prayer, the Spirit prompted me to caution them: “Once something is dedicated to the Lord, it is no longer yours to do with as you please.”

I declined the dedication. I blessed the home and its occupants, but I would not consecrate what they were not prepared to surrender. That wasn’t fear—it was reverence.

It was the same Spirit who exposed Achan’s buried treasure (Joshua 7), Ananias and Sapphira’s partial offering (Acts 5), and Peter’s vow that crumbled under pressure (Matthew 26).

6. Make me, Savior, wholly Thine…

Wholly? Or just on Sundays?

“Present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship.” (Romans 12:1)
“You are not your own, for you were bought with a price.” (1 Corinthians 6:19–20)

An hour on Sunday is not surrender—it’s an Ananias-offering, a portion dressed up as the whole.

7. The Prophetic Punch

We dissect the lyrics of others while ignoring the lies in our own lungs. We sing “I surrender all” while clutching our idols. We dedicate homes, ministries, and relationships with ceremony but not consecration.

But the Spirit isn’t fooled by our chorus—He’s waiting for our cross.

“Simon, son of John, do you love Me?” (John 21:15)
“Do you really love Me?”

8. The Call to Return

This is not a call to sing louder. It’s a call to live surrendered.

  • Lay down the divided allegiances.
  • Stop negotiating with God.
  • Love Him with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength.
  • Take up your cross daily.
  • Stop pretending. Start repenting.

9. Closing Refrain

Lot’s wife looked back. Israel longed back. Peter fell back. Laodicea leaned back. But Christ calls us to press forward—cross in hand, eyes fixed on Him. Do you love Me? Do you really love Me?”

Watchman Report: Live from the Court of Public Spectacle

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Allen Frederick

Filed by: The Watchman

Last Saturday, cities across the nation echoed with the resolute voices of thousands gathered at the “No Kings” rallies. These protests, fueled by a deep dissatisfaction with the current government, marked a pivotal moment of public outcry and spiritual unrest. As the crowds marched and chanted, the air was thick with tension and anticipation, setting the stage for a drama that transcends politics and touches the very heart of our cultural and spiritual identity. Tonight, we begin our report by looking back at these rallies and the powerful message they sent across the land. This whole scene is reminiscent of a similar scene that took place more than 2000 years ago. The similarities are striking! Let’s take a trip down memory lane.

REPORTING LIVE FROM THE NO KINGS RALLY

Good evening, listeners. This is your anchor coming to you live with a special report unfolding at the crossroads of faith and culture. Tonight, we witness a drama as old as time itself—the Passion, replayed not on a distant stage, but in the very streets and courts of our world today. The crowd is restless, voices rise in fervor, and the stakes could not be higher. Stay tuned as we bring you the unfolding story, the key players, and the truth that refuses to be silenced.

Opening Broadcast

This is the Watchman, reporting live from the arena of ideological warfare.
The crowd is surging. The chants are coordinated. The signs are sharp.
But beneath the slogans and spectacle, the ancient drama unfolds again.

The Passion is replaying—not in Jerusalem, but in every city square.
The players are familiar. The tactics unchanged.
The target? Still Truth.
The verdict? Still pending.

First Quarter: The Stirring of the Crowd

The governing authorities have taken the field—not to calm, but to agitate.
They’ve deployed their playbook:

  • Stir unrest
  • Isolate the righteous
  • Judge-shop for friendly venues

The crowd responds on cue.
Chants erupt like drumlines:

“No kings!”
“Give us Barabbas!”
“Crucify conviction!”

The volume is deafening.
But the loudest voice doesn’t get the last word.

Second Quarter: The Royal Court of Righteousness Takes the Stand

Each ideological mascot steps forward, cloaked in moral certainty:

  • The Advocate of Accommodation demands tolerance—on his terms.
    He’s not here to listen. He’s here to legislate your repentance.
  • The Priest of Preference rejects divine order.
    He quotes Caesar, not Scripture.
    His altar is built on feelings, not truth.
  • The Protest Scribe unfurls his scroll.
    It’s long. It’s loud. It’s lawless.
    He wants justice—but only for his tribe.
  • The Judge of Identity declares, “I am who I say I am.”
    But Truth replies, “I Am who I Am—and you are not Me.”
  • The Herald of Hurt limps forward.
    Her wounds are real—but her weapon is resentment.
    She demands healing without surrender.

Halftime: The Judges Wash Their Hands

Just like Pilate, today’s judges are shopping for friendly courts.
They want rulings that affirm the crowd, not the Constitution.
They misapply the law to preserve their own peace.
They fear the mob more than they fear God.

“Shall I crucify your King?”
“We have no king but Caesar.”

Third Quarter: The Spectacle Builds

The crowd grows louder.
The costumes more theatrical.
The media amplifies the illusion of strength.

But the Watchman sees:

  • The spectacle is smoke.
  • The unity is Babel.
  • The power is borrowed.

They chant for chaos over peace.
They crown comfort over conviction.
They crucify Truth—and call it progress.

Fourth Quarter: The Rising

They think they’ve won.
They think the tomb is sealed.
They think the Lamb is silenced.

But Truth is not dead.
Truth is not buried.
Truth is rising.

“He was oppressed and afflicted, yet He did not open His mouth.” — Isaiah 53:7
“You will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.” — John 8:32
“Woe to those who call evil good and good evil.” — Isaiah 5:20

Final Call from the Booth

This is the Watchman, signing off.
Crowds chant.
Judges fold.
Scribes scribble.

But the Lamb still reigns!
And the final whistle belongs to Him.

“You have judged the Son of Man by your standards.
But He will judge you by His.”

FAITH HALL OF FAME

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"Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get it." — 1 Corinthians 9:24
Allen Frederick

It’s awards season again. It’s that time of year. Red carpets unfurl like modern-day scrolls of glory. The world pauses to crown its chosen ones. Grammys, Emmys, Doves, Nobels, AMAs, Bestseller lists, viral clicks, and algorithmic applause—each a golden carrot dangling before the hungry soul. The pursuit of recognition has become a full-time religion, and the altar is crowded.

But there’s another ceremony underway. Quieter. Older. Eternal. It’s not televised, but it’s recorded. Not in HD, but in heaven. Hebrews 11 calls it the Faith Hall of Fame. No tuxedos. No acceptance speeches. Just a roll call of the faithful—many unnamed, most uncelebrated, all remembered by God.

Hebrews 11 honors God’s award winners—the Hall of Faith. It names giants of faith who endured by trusting God’s promises despite unseen trials and worldly scorn. Here are some of those honored by God:

  • By faith Abel offered a better sacrifice than Cain, through which he was commended as righteous, God commending him by accepting his gifts. Though he died, he still speaks.
  • By faith Enoch was taken up so that he did not see death, “for before he was taken he was commended as having pleased God.”
  • By faith Noah, being warned by God about things not yet seen, in reverence prepared an ark to save his household.
  • By faith Abraham obeyed when he was called to go out to a place he would later receive as an inheritance.
  • By faith Sarah received power to conceive, even when she was past age, because she considered Him faithful who had promised.
  • By faith Isaac blessed Jacob and Esau concerning things to come.
  • By faith Jacob, when dying, blessed each of Joseph’s sons and worshiped, leaning on his staff.
  • By faith Joseph, at the end of his life, spoke about the exodus of the Israelites and gave instructions concerning his bones.
  • By faith Moses, when he was born, was hidden by his parents for three months because they saw he was no ordinary child.
  • By faith Moses, when grown, refused to be called the son of Pharaoh’s daughter, choosing to suffer with God’s people rather than enjoy sin’s fleeting pleasures.
  • By faith the Israelites passed through the Red Sea as on dry land, but the Egyptians who pursued them were drowned.
  • By faith the walls of Jericho fell after the Israelites marched around them for seven days.
  • By faith Rahab the prostitute did not perish with those who were disobedient because she welcomed the spies in peace.

These are the ones God honors, not for fame or fortune, but for faithfulness and obedience. Their lives stand in stark contrast to the fleeting applause of the world, reminding us that God’s commendation is the true prize.

Paul sharpened the metaphor: “Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get it… They do it to get a crown that will not last, but we do it to get a crown that will last forever.” (1 Corinthians 9:24–25)

They wandered, suffered, obeyed, endured. No medals. No statues. No trending hashtags. Yet they are listed in the Lamb’s Book of Life. Heaven’s registry of those who chose the praise of God over the praise of man.

The Question of True Value

So we must ask: what do we value most?

Is it the fleeting ovation of man or the eternal commendation of God?

The applause of man is loud but short-lived. It fades with the next scandal, the next trend, the next algorithm tweak. It’s a currency that devalues quickly. One moment you’re the darling of the crowd, the next you’re a cautionary tale.

But the praise of God? It’s quiet, often unnoticed, but it echoes forever. It’s the “Well done” whispered by the Creator to the faithful servant. It’s the reward that moth and rust cannot corrupt, that no critic can revoke.

Jesus warned: “How can you believe when you receive glory from one another and do not seek the glory that comes from the only God?” (John 5:44). He knew the gravitational pull of human praise. He felt the temptation to perform for the crowd. But He chose obedience over optics. Truth over trend.

In a world obsessed with being seen, the faithful are called to be hidden. In a culture addicted to applause, we are summoned to endure silence. In an age of curated personas, we are invited to authenticity.

The Lamb’s Hall of Fame is not for the popular—it’s for the obedient.

Yet, we cannot ignore that excellence is required to gain a trophy. But lately, many trophies have lost their sheen, resembling more participation awards than honors of true merit. Anyone can get TikTok likes with the right gimmick, but there is only one way to gain the crown of life.

This is clearly taught in passages James 1:12, which says, “Blessed is the one who perseveres under trial because, having stood the test, that person will receive the crown of life that the Lord has promised to those who love him.” It is not earned by worldly acclaim or fleeting achievements but by a steadfast, obedient faith that endures to the end.”

So run your race. Not for applause, but for allegiance. Not for likes, but for love. Not for fame, but for faith.

Because the only Hall of Fame that matters is the one built by nail-scarred hands.

Running the Race That Wins the Crown

Let us therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, lay aside every weight, and the sin which so easily ensnares us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us,

looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.

For consider Him who endured such hostility from sinners against Himself, lest you become weary and discouraged in your souls. (Hebrews 12:1-3)

Rebranding Revival into Idolatry

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Why Worship at the Feet of a Fallen Man When We Can Worship at the Feet of a Risen Lord?

In the weeks since Charlie Kirk’s assassination, the nation has seen a surge of energy. News reports describe stadiums filled with mourners who have become activists. “FREEDOM” tee-shirts are flying off shelves. Turning Point tattoos are being etched into skin. The movement is swelling with momentum. Some hail it as revival. Others see it as a political awakening.

But momentum is not the same as revival. And history—biblical history—warns us that what begins as a move of God can sour into a monument to man.

Gideon in the Winepress

When we first meet Gideon in Judges 6, he is threshing wheat in a winepress, hiding from Midianite raiders. Hardly a revolutionary. Yet God calls him “mighty warrior” and raises him up to deliver Israel.

But God made it clear: the victory would not belong to Gideon. He whittled Gideon’s army down to 300 men so that no one could boast, “My own hand has saved me” (Judges 7:2). The triumph over Midian was not Gideon’s brilliance, not the zeal of his men, but the power of God alone.

Charlie Kirk, in many ways, became a Gideon figure for this generation. He had unassuming beginnings and a small band of devoted followers. He achieved a victory that seemed impossible against the tide of cultural opposition. His courage inspired many. But just as in Gideon’s day, the danger comes after the battle.

Rebranding Revival into Idolatry

After his victory, Gideon asked for gold from the spoils of war and “made an ephod of it and put it in his city, in Ophrah. And all Israel prostituted themselves by worshiping it there, and it became a snare to Gideon and his family” (Judges 8:27).

Here’s the problem:

  • The ephod was a sacred priestly garment, commanded by God in Exodus 28 to be worn only by the high priest of Levi.
  • It bore the names of Israel’s tribes and was used with the Urim and Thummim to discern God’s will (Exodus 28:29–30).
  • Gideon was not a priest. He was from Manasseh (Judges 6:15). He had no authority to assume priestly garments.

By making an ephod, Gideon stepped outside his calling. And the people, instead of objecting, embraced it. They shifted their devotion from the God who delivered them to the symbol of victory. The ephod became a counterfeit center of worship.

And here is where the prophetic punch lands: Why worship at the feet of a fallen man when you can worship at the feet of a risen Lord?

Gold: Glory Turned to Graven

Gold was used to overlay the Ark of the Covenant, to adorn the tabernacle, and to craft the priestly garments. It symbolized God’s holiness and majesty. But when taken out of context—when melted down and molded by human hands—it became the golden calf (Exodus 32), a grotesque parody of divine worship.

Gideon’s ephod, fashioned from gold taken as spoils, echoes that same drift. What began as a symbol of victory became a snare. The people bowed not to God, but to the glitter of conquest.

Even Judas, in the shadow of the cross, traded the Son of God for thirty pieces of silver—precious metal once again used to betray glory.

Gold, when untethered from reverence, becomes the metal of misdirection.

Our Modern Ephods

Today, the parallels are sobering. Tee‑shirts, tattoos, slogans, and symbols are rising as rallying points. They are not evil in themselves. But they risk becoming ephods—objects of misplaced devotion that subtly shift the focus from the risen Christ to a fallen man, from the Deliverer to the movement.

The drift begins when no one raises the alarm. When the church accepts the symbol without questioning whether it has replaced the Savior. When we rally around the banner instead of the cross.

The Call Back to the Cross

Scripture is clear:

  • “And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself” (John 12:32).
  • “There is no other name under heaven given among men by which we must be saved” (Acts 4:12).
  • “He must increase, but I must decrease” (John 3:30).

It wasn’t Gideon. It wasn’t the 300. It wasn’t the ephod.
It was God.

And so it must be with us. Organizing for better government is not wrong. Honoring courage is not wrong. But rallying around a name other than Jesus Christ is always wrong.

Final Word

The ephod warns us: symbols can become snares.
The cross reminds us: salvation is not in the symbol but in the Savior.

So let us ditch the ephods of our age and cling to the risen Lord. For it was never Gideon, never Charlie, never Turning Point—it was, and always will be, God.


Why worship at the feet of a fallen man when you can worship at the feet of a risen Lord?

This has been “A VIEW FROM THE NEST.” And that is the way I see it. What say you?

Ministry vs. Marketplace: A Christian Artist’s Dilemma

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When Christian artist Forrest Frank announced he would no longer attend award shows, although being nominated for seven Dove Awards. He struck a nerve. His reasoning was simple: “I will not receive a trophy for something that is from Jesus and for Jesus. I already have the greatest award, my name written in the Book of Life.”

The post went viral, drawing both applause and critique. Some hailed it as a prophetic refusal to let the industry define worth. Others saw inconsistency: Frank still profits from concerts, streams, and $100 “Child of God” hoodies. Country star Jelly Roll quipped that if trophies are too worldly, why not apply the same logic to merchandise? Kings Kaleidoscope added a practical note: if you don’t want awards, don’t publish your music.

This debate is bigger than one artist. It exposes the uneasy marriage between ministry and marketplace.

Applause vs. Awards

Applause at a concert is spontaneous, relational, and fleeting. An award is institutional, formalized, and enduring. Both are forms of recognition, but one feels like shared worship while the other risks becoming a coronation. Frank is drawing his line at the latter.

The Workman and His Wages

Paul made tents. Peter fished. Farmers farmed. Carpenters built. Each earned a living from their craft. Paul even insisted, “The laborer is worthy of his wages.”

So why do we expect ministers and musicians to work for free? Why do we honor the baker for selling bread but shame the evangelist for selling books or shirts? As one who once sold Christian T-shirts to fund ministry, I know firsthand: people gave willingly, not under compulsion. Love offerings maybe light on offering but heavy on love; merchandise often carried the ministry further.

The Real Issue: Posture, Not Profit

The problem is not applause, awards, or income. The problem is when:

  • Applause becomes the aim instead of the overflow.
  • Awards become the altar instead of a testimony.
  • Income becomes the idol instead of provision.

Frank’s refusal of trophies is his way of guarding posture. Others draw the line differently. Romans 14 reminds us: “Each one should be fully convinced in his own mind.”

In Conclusion

The question isn’t whether Christian artists should profit or accept recognition. The question is:

  • Does my labor point people to Christ or to me?
  • Does my livelihood serve the gospel or overshadow it?
  • Does my recognition become a crown I wear—or one I cast at His feet?

Forrest Frank’s stand is not everyone’s stand. But it forces us to face a deeper tension. We must figure out how to live, work, and create in a world where ministry and marketplace collide.

Trophies tarnish. Applause fades. Hoodies wear out. But the crown of life endures. And that’s the only award worth fighting for.

This has been “A View From the Nest.” And that’s the way I see it. What say you?